"This story is going to be a hit, Tara!"
Her manager's voice filled the cabin with a confidence that felt almost overwhelming. The script landed firmly on the desk, as if the decision had already been made and there was no space left for doubt.
"A modern love story with a flavour of slice of life, a touch of philosophy… it works beautifully," she continued, spinning lightly in her chair. "But what about the ending? You've written only half the storyline till now."
Tara looked at her, slightly taken aback by the sudden intensity. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, ma'am… the story is far from being completed. So, it would be good if we don't rush our way through it."
"No," her manager replied immediately, shaking her head with firm certainty. "I want this story to be finished in the next three weeks. We have to start looking for a perfect casting too. Come on now, you are one of the best writers here. You can finish it."
"Hmm."
That was all Tara said.
She didn't argue further. She simply stood up, walked back to her cabin, and closed the door behind her. The moment she sat down on her chair, she bent forward and rested her forehead against the desk with a dull thud.
"How can I complete it in three weeks?" she whispered to herself.
Her gaze slowly shifted toward her laptop screen, then to her phone lying beside it.
"I wrote everything related to the trip with so much clarity… so much enthusiasm… but what after the trip?" she murmured. "Everything has gone back to normal. I've not met him after that music concert. There is absolutely no contact…"
Her fingers hovered near her phone.
"No… no… how can I message him just for my content? That would be too selfish."
She leaned back in her chair, frustration building steadily inside her.
"What's wrong with me?" she said, running her fingers through her hair. "I started imagining things after meeting him briefly again. This is going to do no good."
For the first time in her life, Tara felt emotionally unsettled in a way she couldn't control. It was new, uncomfortable, and strangely consuming. She had always been composed, always aware of her boundaries, always able to detach when needed.
But this time, something had slipped.
And she knew something else too.
This connection had no future.
They were poles apart.
"Hey Tara! Wanna come to a party today?" one of her colleagues called from outside the cabin.
She looked up, slightly annoyed. "What kind of party are you guys celebrating now?"
"Arre, just weekend fun! Come na, we'll have a good time."
"No, I want to finish my storyline tonight."
"You think you're going to complete it overnight? Come on now, don't give excuses. Anyways, you're infamous for not socializing with your own team!"
Tara sighed.
"Ahh… okay fine! I'll come."
---
At 9 PM, the Sugar Factory club was alive with energy.
Her team sat around a table, laughing loudly as someone mimicked their CEO's strange habits. Plates clinked, conversations overlapped, and the entire space buzzed with noise.
Music from downstairs drifted upward. First Tamil party songs filled the air, loud and vibrant, and then slowly, the playlist shifted into softer Bollywood melodies.
"Jadu hai nasha hai…" echoed faintly.
"Why are they playing these kinds of songs…" Tara whispered under her breath.
She looked around the table again. The same jokes. The same conversations. The same patterns she never quite fit into.
Quietly, she stood up, leaving her half-finished pasta behind, and walked toward the other side of the restaurant.
She needed a break.
Something quieter.
Something that didn't demand effort.
And then she heard it.
"One Khichdi!"
She stopped mid-step.
Khichdi?
Inside a pub?
And then came the voice.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
"Not again…" she muttered, closing her eyes briefly.
"Hey Tara!!"
She opened her eyes.
There he was.
"Hi Dhruv…" she said softly.
"Come here, you wanna have some khichdi?"
"I've never seen anyone ordering khichdi in a fucking pub…"
"Language please."
"Sorry."
"Yeah so, I believe that no restaurant can mess up with dal khichdi. If they mess up this food, then don't even expect any other item on their menu to be of good taste."
"I've never thought in that way…"
"See, be with me and you'll learn the most valuable life lessons!"
Tara laughed quietly, shaking her head.
Pretentious as usual.
Full of himself.
"So, why are you sitting alone here?" she asked.
"What do you think guys come to the pub for?"
"To dance? Drink?" she replied innocently.
Dhruv laughed.
"Tara… you're forgetting the rules of nature…"
"What rules?"
"Why do you think these pubs have free entry for girls?"
"Why?"
"So that the guys will get attracted to the pub with more girls."
He said it so casually, so directly, that it left her stunned.
"You're impossible."
"I'm just stating facts."
"Everything can't just come down to attraction."
"Why? If I'm not attracted to great girls… for example… girls like you… then I should go check myself from a doctor."
Tara stared at him in disbelief.
And then she laughed.
Because it was ridiculous.
And yet, strangely honest.
"I know I'm degrading my own image in your eyes, but it is what it is."
She smiled, shaking her head.
"Okay, I'll take my leave… my team will be leaving now."
"You really wanna go back home with those boring people?"
"What other option do I have?"
"Your option is sitting in front of you."
"What's the plan?"
"The plan is that… there's no plan… We can just roam around and go to my room and listen to the music and chill out."
"Uhhh… No… That won't be possible…"
"Why?"
"I've some limits, Dhruv…"
"I also know my limits, Tara…"
That was the problem.
She knew this offer wasn't special.
If it wasn't her, it would've been someone else.
"Tara!! Let's go, we're leaving!!"
She looked at him one last time.
He was smiling.
Calm.
Unbothered.
"I'll leave."
"Your wish.", he shrugged, "But we could've had fun."
---
Outside, the night felt heavier.
Her team gathered near the road, booking cabs.
Tara walked with them, but her mind refused to follow.
Should I go back?
What happens if I go?
It won't be more than a casual encounter…
But I want to go back…
She reached the cab.
Held the door.
"Tara, you're coming?" her colleague asked.
She paused.
Her heart answered before her mind could.
"No… I've something to do…"
She shut the door.
And ran.
Back toward the pub.
Fast.
Her thoughts crashed into each other.
Would he still be there?
What if he's gone?
What if he's not alone?
What am I even doing?
She saw him from a distance, bringing his bike out.
Relief washed over her instantly.
"Dhruv!!!! Wait!!"
He turned.
Smiled.
"Why were you running!! Breathe first!"
"Because you would've left!"
"Are we living in the 1920's or what? Don't you have my number to call and stop me?"
She realized.
Embarrassment crept in.
"Yeah… but my first instinct after looking at you leaving was… to run towards you…"
"Do you ever hold back your emotions? Or you just go splurting out whatever comes to your mind"
"I used to, before meeting you. Now, I'm only following my heart."
"Writer… I feel like you're following me just for your content…"
"And what happens if I do that?"
"I want royalty."
Tara laughed loudly.
"Hey, don't laugh!! I'm serious!"
"Okay, uncle…"
"Sit now, We'll have fun tonight."
She sat.
Without thinking.
And the moment she did—
The bike shot forward at full speed.
---
The sudden acceleration pulled her forward, and instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him tightly. The road stretched endlessly ahead, almost empty, glowing under scattered streetlights.
The wind rushed against her face, sharp and freeing at the same time.
Her thoughts tried to keep up.
Why did I come back?
What am I doing?
Where is this going?
But the speed didn't let her hold onto them.
Her grip tightened.
Her eyes slowly closed.
And for the first time in days—
She stopped thinking.
Completely.
The city blurred around her. The noise faded. The doubts dissolved.
There was only the moment.
Only the feeling.
Only the rush.
Tears gathered slowly in her eyes before she even realized it.
Not loud, not overwhelming.
Just quiet.
Like something within her had softened without asking for permission.
It wasn't sadness.
It wasn't fear either.
It was the strange, unfamiliar feeling of letting go of control.
For the first time, she wasn't trying to understand what she was feeling.
She wasn't trying to name it, fix it, or push it away.
She was simply… there.
Living it.
Feeling every second as it passed, without questioning where it would lead.
And somewhere in that moment, she stopped being the writer of her story.
She became a part of it.
---
As the bike gradually slowed down, the world began to return in fragments.
The wind lost its sharpness.
The roads came back into focus.
The noise of the city slipped in quietly, as if nothing had happened at all.
Her hands loosened their grip.
Her breathing steadied.
Her eyes opened.
And with that stillness came a different kind of clarity.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just… certain.
Avoiding him had never really been about him.
It had always been about herself.
About not wanting to feel too much.
About staying in control.
About choosing comfort over uncertainty.
But some people don't let you stay comfortable.
They don't force anything.
They just… exist in a way that changes how you see yourself.
And no amount of distance can undo that.
---
When the bike finally came to a stop, Tara didn't move immediately.
She sat there for a second longer than needed.
Because something had shifted.
Not the situation.
Not him.
But her.
She didn't feel like running anymore.
Not toward him.
Not away from him.
Just… steady.
And for the first time, she realized something simple, yet difficult to accept.
Some people are not meant to be avoided.
They are meant to be experienced.
Fully.
Honestly.
Without shortcuts.
And whatever comes after that—
You deal with it then.