The night air was crisp, the city lights twinkling in the distance. Aryan and Meera sat on the rooftop of the school, their legs dangling over the edge. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was heavy, filled with things left unsaid.
Meera exhaled sharply, hugging her knees to her chest. "I don't even know why I'm here."
Aryan glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Because you needed to talk."
She scoffed. "What if I didn't?"
"Then you wouldn't have come up here," he said simply.
Meera sighed, leaning her head back against the cool surface of the roof. "Everyone's talking about us. About me and Aarohi. I can hear it in the hallways. The whispers, the stares. It's like they're waiting to see who breaks first."
Aryan was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "Do you miss her?"
Meera stiffened. She wasn't sure how to answer. Did she miss Aarohi? Of course she did. But the jealousy, the frustration—it all still burned inside her.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe I miss what we used to be. Before everything got so complicated."
Aryan nodded, as if he understood. "It doesn't have to stay this way, you know."
Meera turned to face him. "How? She won't even look at me, Aryan. And I don't know if I even deserve for her to."
Aryan studied her for a moment before shaking his head. "You think too much. You're caught up in what happened instead of what could happen. If you want things to change, you have to do something about it."
Meera let out a dry laugh. "That easy, huh? Just fix everything with a few words?"
"Not easy," Aryan admitted. "But worth it."
She sighed, looking out at the city beyond them. "And what about you? You're the reason this all started. Do you regret it?"
Aryan hesitated. "Regret? No. But I hate that it hurt you both. I never wanted that."
Meera shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. "Well, it happened. And now, here we are."
Aryan leaned back on his hands, gazing at the stars. "Yeah. But where do you want to be?"
Meera didn't answer. Because for the first time, she wasn't sure she knew.
After a long pause, she took a deep breath. "Aryan, do you know why I was her friend? How I became her friend?"
Aryan turned to her, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
Meera's eyes softened, lost in a memory. "She wasn't always like this. Aarohi was different before. She was calm, cheerful, someone who laughed easily. She used to be someone who carried warmth with her, not this weight of the world."
Aryan frowned slightly. "So what changed?"
Meera swallowed hard. "Her father. He changed everything."
Aryan raised an eyebrow. "Her father? But isn't he—"
"Rich? Powerful? Someone who could give her anything she wanted?" Meera interrupted, her voice laced with something unreadable. "Yeah, he is. Super rich. More than you can even imagine. Cars, mansions, businesses in foreign countries—Aarohi could have anything with just a snap of her fingers."
Aryan was quiet, waiting for her to continue.
Meera sighed, her gaze distant. "But she's also his only daughter. His legacy. And that's why he started training her. It wasn't just about giving her everything—he wanted her to be perfect. He wanted her to be strong, unstoppable. He didn't raise her like a daughter, Aryan. He raised her like an heir."
Aryan's eyes darkened. "That's why she's so... guarded?"
Meera nodded. "She had to be. She wasn't allowed to be weak. If she cried, she was told to toughen up. If she failed, she was reminded that failure wasn't an option. Every step she took, every move she made—it was all part of his grand plan for her. And slowly, bit by bit, she changed. The girl who used to laugh so easily, who used to believe in people... she disappeared. And in her place was someone who couldn't afford to trust, couldn't afford to lose."
Aryan clenched his jaw. "That's why she always acts like she has to prove something."
Meera nodded again, her voice quieter. "I stayed by her side because I saw both versions of her. I saw the girl she was and the one she was forced to become. And maybe... maybe I just wanted to remind her that she didn't have to be what her father wanted. That she could still be Aarohi."
Aryan looked down at his hands, processing everything. "And do you think she still can?"
Meera let out a shaky breath. "I don't know. Maybe I'm part of the reason she doesn't believe in people anymore. Maybe I made it worse."
Aryan's voice was steady. "Or maybe you were the only one trying to remind her that she's more than what he made her."
Meera didn't respond. Because deep down, she feared that it might already be too late.
After a few moments, she looked down at her hands and whispered, "She was never supposed to be like this, Aryan. And I don't know if she even remembers who she was before all of this."
Aryan's gaze was firm. "Then maybe it's time someone else"