As they lay there, time seemed to freeze.
Aarav's elbow lingered a second too long, pressing against her. It took him a moment to realize it, but by then, the damage was done. If anyone had walked in at that moment, there would have been no explaining the situation. To an outsider, it would've looked bad.
The girl's already flustered expression deepened into a shade of crimson. Then—
SMACK!
Aarav barely registered the sting on his cheek before she scrambled to her feet in a panic, her glasses forgotten on the floor. Without looking back, she bolted out of the restroom as if running for her life.
He remained on the cold tiles, stunned.
What the hell just happened?
His mind struggled to catch up.
Am I being set up?
Paranoia crept in. Is someone trying to make my life worse?
As if his life wasn't already a mess—
First, there was the dog.
Aarav clenched his fists as the memory surfaced, unbidden. The blood, the sound of bones snapping, the way its body twitched one last time before going still. He hadn't meant to. It was an accident.
But now—now he was a pervert too?
An image flashed in his mind: His elbow, her chest, the shocked look on her face, and then—the slap.
He groaned.
Great. Just great.
In his head, the scenario escalated into absurdity.
He saw himself running through the streets, cops on his tail, the girl's cries echoing—"Pervert! Someone stop him!"
A laugh bubbled up in his throat. It was humorless, almost deranged.
"How much worse is this going to get?! You already took everything from me—now you're framing me as a pervert too?!"
He laughed again, but it felt more like suffocating.
As he stood up, a sharp jolt of pain shot through his foot, twisting his expression.
"Oh right!"
His mind caught up with his body's condition.
"I can't even fucking run!"
A dry, humorless chuckle escaped his lips.
"Dammit!"
He limped out of the restroom, grabbing his bags—a school bag stuffed with books and another gym bag carrying his gear.
For a brief moment, he thought about calling his mother, letting her know he'd be late. His fingers hovered over the dial.
Then he lowered his hand.
"Doesn't matter. I'll go no matter what."
Descending the stairs, he almost didn't notice Gheya until their eyes met.
Gheya was one of the few people Aarav talked to—not quite a close friend, but someone he trusted more than most. They were opposites. Gheya was an inch taller, had an average build, pretty eyes, and a well-kept beard—something that made Aarav just a little envious. He was sociable, well-liked, and had a way of making people comfortable around him.
"Hey, what's up, man?" Gheya greeted him with a grin.
Aarav responded with noticeably lower energy, "I'm good… Didn't you go home yet? It's late."
"Had some prep to do for tomorrow," Gheya shrugged. Then his eyes flicked to Aarav's bruised face and limping leg, concern creeping into his tone. "What happened to you, man? You look like hell."
Aarav forced a weak smile. "Nothing, just fell. You know me—clumsy as always."
Gheya raised an eyebrow. He wasn't convinced, but he didn't push. "By the way, tomorrow—"
Aarav's tired brain barely processed the words.
"Tomorrow?"
Gheya clapped his hands together. "Oh, holy shit! I almost forgot. I was looking for you all afternoon. Tomorrow's your presentation."
Aarav blinked. "…Presentation?"
"Yeah, they decided to do something in class. I don't know the details, but they told me to hand out topics. You were sleeping like a baby, so I figured I'd let you rest and give it to you later. But then I couldn't find you anywhere."
He finally noticed Aarav's blank, lifeless stare. "Dude… you sure you're okay?"
Gheya had never seen Aarav like this.
Aarav—who was always loud, grinning, laughing like an idiot, pulling his stupid pranks. But now?
It was as if that version of him had been wiped away.
Something broke today.
And then it happened.
Aarav's knees hit the floor.
A shiver ran down Gheya's spine as Aarav mumbled to himself, low and unhinged.
Then—he laughed.
It wasn't his usual laugh.
It was hollow.
It was broken.
"Why? How much more? Who the hell is screwing with me?!"
Gheya patted Aarav's shoulder with a reassuring smile.
"Fear not, man. I remember—you're not good with the stage. But trust me, it'll be fine. All you have to do is read from a paper."
Aarav blinked. "From a paper? That's it? That's simple."
"Yeah, it's just a formality, dude. You're strong—I know that."
For a moment, Aarav just stood there. Then, without warning, he pulled Gheya into a brief hug.
"Thanks, man. Thanks for the support. I'll do it!"
Determination flickered in his eyes. But Gheya noticed something else, something missing from his face.
"Tell me, is everything alright? You heading home?"
Aarav shook his head. "No, I'm going to the gym."
"That's more like you. I just need to drop some things off in the staff room. Let's walk together—you can tell me what's going on."
They walked side by side, discussing random things—trends, ideas, nonsense.
Then, out of nowhere, Aarav spoke. "My cat died this morning."
His voice was hollow.
Gheya glanced at him. "Wait, what? How?"
Aarav exhaled. "A dog tore it in two."
Gheya froze for a second, then softened. "Shit… I'm really sorry, man."
Before he could say more, a small, slum kid ran up to them, eyes wide, clutching a bundle of socks in his tiny hands.
"Big brother, do you want to buy socks?"
Aarav barely glanced at him. "No, I already have a pair."
The kid hesitated, then tugged lightly at the hem of Aarav's jacket. "Please… can you give me something to eat?"
For a second, there was silence.
Then—
"Stay back, rat! Keep your filthy hands off my jacket! Fuck off!"
Gheya's head snapped toward him in shock.
"What the hell, dude?! That was so damm rude ! —"
Aarav laughed.
It wasn't his usual laugh.
It was dark.
It was wrong.
Gheya's stomach twisted as Aarav grinned.
"You're right, Gheya. Life is hard for them—a lot harder than for us. That's why… they shouldn't have been born in the first place."
A chill ran down Gheya's spine.
"It's their parents' fault," Aarav continued, his voice disturbingly calm. "Breeding like parasites, spreading them like worms, knowing they can't even feed them. No education, no future. Just leeches sucking on society."
He turned to Gheya, eyes sharp—too sharp.
"Life is already hard for people like us. We're not poor, but we're not rich either. We live paycheck to paycheck, wondering if we'll get that promotion, that contract, that tender. So tell me… who the fuck gave them the right to breed like that?"
Gheya felt… uneasy.
No—disturbed.
This wasn't Aarav.
Not the Aarav he had known for three years.
Not the idiot who laughed too much, talked too loud, pulled dumb pranks.
For a moment, Gheya forced a weak smile, masking his discomfort.
"Y-yeah… you could be right, but still…"
He paused.
Then, in a quiet, almost broken tone, he muttered,
"I guess I'll go now. I need to hurry."
And just like that—he walked away.
"A bad day… just a bad day… All it takes is one to show you who you really are. And I just found out… I'm the worst piece of shit anyone could ever meet."
Aarav's thoughts echoed in his mind, dark and relentless. A metaphorical image flashed before him—his mask shattering into pieces, the illusion of himself breaking apart.
His own words played back in his head, laced with venom. "Stay back, rat! Keep your filthy hands off my jacket! Fuck off!"
That wasn't him.
That wasn't him.
He stopped limping. His fists clenched. His breath hitched.
Slowly, hesitantly, he turned back.
The kid was still there, standing alone, eyes wary, feet bare against the cold pavement.
Aarav limped toward him and—without a word—patted his head.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice cracked. "I'm so sorry… but I don't have much."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a chocolate bar.
The kid's face lit up. His eyes sparkled. He grinned—a smile so pure, so simple.
And just like that—Aarav felt something shift inside him.
A revelation.
"I'm here. And so is he. We both eat. We both feel hunger. We both feel pain, joy, sadness."
"No matter how high or low, rich or poor—an existence is an existence."
He exhaled.
His path was clear now.
He didn't go to the gym.
He went home.
As Aarav walked home, his mind churned with thoughts, each one cutting deeper than the last.
"What kind of ungrateful loser am I?"
His mother—his mother.
She had sacrificed everything for him and his sister. After his father's death, she worked tirelessly, never once letting them go hungry. She provided, she endured, she never asked for anything in return.
And him?
He had spent his life seeking validation. Doing the right thing—not because he truly wanted to, but because he wanted others to notice. To acknowledge him. To give him the warmth he had lacked.
"Pathetic!"
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.
"How weak of a person I was…"
He had told himself he didn't care. That he didn't need anyone. That people's opinions meant nothing.
But deep down?
He wanted them to care.
He always had.
He scoffed at the very idea—at the weakness of such a desire. But wasn't he the biggest hypocrite?
The images flashed through his mind—
—his hand gently petting the kitten the night before, hoping it would stay with him.
—his arms wrapped around Gheya, seeking comfort in a simple embrace.
"Weak and pathetic…"
A shadow of a smile ghosted his lips.
"That's what I am."
Shame. A Shame.
The word pounded in his skull, over and over, like a merciless hammer.
Aarav had always thought of himself as a man. Strong, independent, untouchable. But now? Now, he wasn't so sure.
His belief system—shattered.
All this time, he had been lying to himself. Convincing himself that if he just did this or that, he would finally be worthy. That he would finally become the person he was supposed to be.
But now?
Now, he saw it. The bitter, hateful being he had become. The monster that had always lurked within him, finally showing its true face.
He sank into the bus seat, exhausted. His fingers unconsciously moved to his bag, unzipping it just enough to reveal the glint of a pair of glasses wrapped in a towel.
Her glasses.
He stared at them, expression unreadable.
"Okay… it's okay…"
Would he find her again? Would the cops find him first?
He sighed, shoving the thought away.
The bus ride blurred past him, the city lights flickering outside the window like distant ghosts. By the time he reached home, the familiar sight of the main gate and the large front door loomed before him.
He took a deep breath.
And walked inside.
No matter how many times Aarav looked at this house, a strange sense of pride welled up in him.
The only good thing his father had left behind.
A home—big by most standards. A spacious hall, soft sofa set, a glass table in the middle, and a massive TV, almost as big as him. The dining area connected seamlessly, leading to the stairs that wound their way up to another floor.
Nine rooms. One hall. A kitchen. A bathroom.
And then there were the relatives.
Prickly. Overbearing. Claiming everything as their own.
If it were up to Aarav, he would have kicked out every single one of them. But he couldn't.
Not yet.
Aarav's room was on the ground floor, but it had a special entry—one that let him come and go without passing through the main house. It was technically connected to the house, yet he barely used it.
His entire world was inside that room. He came, he left, and he sneaked in late at night, only to find leftovers in the fridge because he hated sitting at the dining table with unwanted guests and freeloaders.
But today was different.
Today, he walked through the front door, past the people he usually avoided. He didn't care about them—not tonight.
Tonight, he had one thing on his mind.
He needed to apologize to his mother.
A fat man of little stature waddled past him, letting out a loud burp.
Aarav's face twisted in disgust.
"Disgusting pig... Why is he still here? He's not even connected to us. This isn't a home—it's a goddamn wildlife sanctuary!"
His jaw clenched as the man scratched his belly and yawned, completely unaware of Aarav's burning gaze.
The fat man stumbled back, his face twisted with a mix of fear and outrage.
"E-Excuse me?! Who the hell are you to look at me like that? What are you doing here?" he barked, trying to act tough, as if he was the one who owned the place.
Aarav's aura turned murderous.
He had come home only to apologize to his mother. He had no business with anyone else. Yet.
But today wasn't a regular day—his nerves were already on edge. The world had been pushing him all day, and now this?
He lifted his hair, revealing his face—his eyes red, his expression hollow, and a trail of dried blood staining his cheek.
"Remember this face, asshole."
The fat man's face drained of color. He wasn't looking at the same Aarav he had known. This was different.
Aarav stood tall and broad, a muscular build that towered over the man. He wasn't some scrawny teenager anymore—he had the kind of presence that sent shivers down spines.
Then, from the corner of his eye, another presence approached.
His uncle.
A man in his mid-30s, with a skinny frame, long black hair, and dark circles under his eyes. He had a charisma about him, the kind that let him charm people easily. But to Aarav, he was disgusting. If there was one person he despised most, it was this man.
For years, this uncle had mocked him, hit him, treated him like a toy. He never did much himself—just leeched off the catering business and acted important.
Now, the man placed a hand on Aarav's shoulder, gripping it hard, as if trying to reassert dominance.
"Hey, kid… are you working out or something?"
BOOM!
A punch straight to his face.
Aarav didn't even think—his fist moved on its own.
The uncle stumbled back, clutching his face, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
Aarav's voice roared through the house—
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!"