Alya didn't say a word for the rest of the day.
Not to Cabir. Not to Dhruv.And definitely not to Manik.
But her silence wasn't passive. It was loaded. Intentional.
Fab 5 had seen her angry before. They'd never seen her this cold.
Fab 5 Rehearsal Room – The Next Day
The session was off.
Cabir could feel it in the way Manik played too hard, too fast. In the way Alya's keyboard was a beat too slow. In the way no one made eye contact.
Dhruv leaned back, muttering, "We good?"
No one answered.
Until Alya finally looked up.
"I want her out."
Cabir blinked. "Who?"
"Nandini. I don't want her around us. Around Manik. Around anything Fab 5."
Manik set his guitar down with a quiet thud.
"This isn't high school drama," he said.
Alya laughed. Sharp. Dry.
"Oh, I forgot. You're above drama now? Since when?"
Cabir stepped in. "Come on—"
"No," Alya cut him off. "You all saw it. She's not just playing music with him. She's getting under his skin."
Manik stared at her.
And when he finally spoke, his voice was calm. Too calm.
"I don't need permission to rehearse with who I want."
Alya's smile was venomous.
"You don't need permission. But don't expect silence either."
She grabbed her bag and walked out.
The door slammed harder than necessary.
Meanwhile – Nandini's Hostel Room
Nandini stared at her phone.
No messages.
No music.
No "M."
She told herself she was relieved.
She lied.
She hadn't stopped thinking about his hand brushing her cheek. About the way he looked at her like she wasn't just new, but necessary.
But she also hadn't forgotten Alya's face.
And she knew what it meant.
This wasn't just emotional anymore.
It was social.
She was stepping into a circle that would tear her apart the moment she became more than background noise.
So she did the only thing she could.
She avoided him.
Campus – Two Days Later
Manik leaned against the quad railing, jaw clenched.
He'd seen her.
Walk past him. Turn the other way. Pretend not to notice.
Again.
And again.
She wasn't just pulling back.
She was cutting him off.
And Manik Malhotra didn't do well with silence.
He pulled out his phone.
A voice note.
He recorded a single line.
"You play like you're fearless, but you run like you're scared. Which is it, Murthy?"
He sent it.
Then waited.
One hour.Two.
Nothing.
He stood.
He wasn't going to be ignored.
Not by her.
That Night – Nandini's Room
She found the message.
Listened.
And something in her cracked.
She didn't know what she felt more — anger at herself for feeling anything… or the heat curling under her skin at the sound of his voice.
So she responded.
Just one line.
"I'm not scared of you. I'm scared of me."
And the moment she hit send…
She knew something irreversible had just begun.