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दिन को रात कहेगी तो मैं रात कहूंतेरा दिल दुखा दे जो ऐसी न बात करूंएक शिकन भी माथे पे न आये मेरी जांले लूंगा तेरी सारी बलाएं मेरी जां
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Finally, the most controversial moment of every family trip arrived Car Allocation War. The battlefield? The Singhaniya residence driveway. The mood? Pure panic, poorly disguised as fake smiles. The strategy? Escape the elders, secure the ‘youngsters only’ freedom ride at any cost. The villain of this chaos? Amit , clearly holding onto his patience by a single, dying molecule.
Amit pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression screaming defeat. “Aakhri baar bol raha hoon… kaun chalega hamari wali gaadi mein?”
Predictable silence. A crow cawed dramatically in the distance. Someone coughed. The wind whispered ‘bacha lo humein’ in the background.
Amit sighed like a man forced to attend his own funeral. He spun around with fatherly authority “Theek hai… jisko chalna hai hamare saath… aage aa jao. Nahi toh fir main apni marzi se le jaunga.”
And that’s when it happened. Mission Save Yourselves initiated.
Priya, Shagun, Aditi, Aman, Prateek, and Samaira – pure coordination, pure evil. Without a single word, like agents trained by RAW itself, they all smoothly stepped backwards, disappearing behind the fortress of travel bags, leaving three poor, oblivious souls exposed in no man’s land
Ansh. Ruhaan. Vivaan.
Ruhaan? Busy adjusting his sunglasses like he was at Cannes.
Vivaan? Popping gum like his jaw was auditioning for a music video.
Ansh? Standing dead centre like he’d just been nominated as tribute for the Hunger Games – confused, frozen, and completely betrayed by his IQ.
Before his Head Boy brain could compute an escape route, a hand grabbed his t-shirt – Aditi, cool as ice, expression blank, yanked him backwards into safety.
He stumbled, blinking like his brain short-circuited, as Aditi whispered low “Shhh… chup rahiye. Yahin khade rehna… kuch bhi mat boliyega.”
he barely managed, still in processing mode. But Aditi’s side-eye? Sharper than exam board notices. His sentence? Aborted mid-air. His brain? Respectfully disconnected.
Meanwhile, Amit turned, expecting volunteers – and saw only Ruhaan and Vivaan standing awkwardly like lost parcels at a courier office.
The duo blinked at each other.
Ruhaan, squinting”Bro… sab peeche kahaan gayab ho gaye?”
Vivaan, mid-gum-pop, utterly clueless”Shaayad… gaadi check karne gaye hain?”
Wrong.
Behind them, the gang enjoyed front-row seats to the comedy. Kiran , proud, hands on hips, beamed like her kids just won Nobel Prizes”Dekha? Samajhdaar ho gaye dono. Khud aa gaye.”
Ruhaan’s jaw dropped, betrayal hitting harder than Delhi summers”Oye… sab peeche hat gaye kya?!”
Vivaan, realisation dawning, eyes narrowed at the squad”Tum logo ne phir se humein fansa diya!”
Shagun, unbothered queen, casually clicked a photo”Scrapbook ke liye – ‘First Trip, Pehli Beizzati’ edition.”
Ruhaan groaned dramatically, hands flailing”Yeh accha nahi kiya tum logon ne… ab main Shagun ke saath kaise baithunga?!”
Shagun, sweet smile, delivered the fatal blow”Gaadi mein chalo bhai… warna window seat bhi nahi milegi.”
“Bhai…? BHAAAI?” Ruhaan gasped like she stabbed him with that word, staggering back like a Bollywood hero after an emotional monologue. He fake sobbed, looking skyward”Maaammmyyyyyy… !”
Meanwhile, Priya smirked, nudging Aditi with knowing eyes”Par tu sirf Ansh bhaiya ko hi peeche kheech ke laayi… hmm… kuch toh chal raha hai na?”
Aditi, trying to look serious but her ears already turning pink”Shut up, pagal… kuch bhi mat socha kar.”
But the faint blush betrayed her, her steps quickening as she stormed off toward the car, leaving Priya and Shagun behind – exchanging evil grins like they just unlocked a new conspiracy level.
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The dark highway stretched endlessly ahead, framed by silhouettes of trees, broken streetlights, and faint hills under the faint moonlight. The car rumbled steadily over the smooth road, Sanjay Uncle at the wheel, humming an old Kishore Kumar song under his breath to stay awake.
Everyone… lost in dreams.
Aman sat in the front passenger seat, face turned toward the window, eyes closed-but not asleep. Not even close. His jaw clenched every few minutes, brows furrowed slightly, like his brain was waging a war he couldn’t shut down.
Because it was.
Her face. Her words. That slap. That look in her eyes-the hurt buried behind the anger. It looped in his head on repeat, driving him mad.
He had told himself pushing Samaira away was the right thing. He wasn’t meant to be cared for. His life? A mess. His emotions? Worse. He didn’t need attachments-he couldn’t afford them. Not after everything.
But… Why was it that the more he avoided her… the more she refused to leave his head?
Her stupid nicknames. That irritating-but-weirdly-charming grin. The way she’d lean into his space without permission and somehow make him feel seen in ways that terrified him. Now, all of it… missing. And his chest? Heavier than ever.
Meanwhile, right behind him, hidden from his view, sat Samaira.
Her knees hugged to her chest, and her face tilted away from Aman. She hadn’t looked at him all trip-not once. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. Not after what he had said… after how brutally he had shattered her trust.
But something wasn’t adding up.
The words he spoke on the terrace… sure, they stung. But the way his voice cracked beneath the bitterness? The storm in his eyes? It wasn’t just anger. It was pain. Fear.
She heard whispers back in college too-things Aman never said but others did.
“sab to yhii bolte hain iski wajah se hi iske parents ka accident hua tha”
“Aman is a bad luck.everyone say it.”
“no parents… mental health… usne sabse contact kam kar diya hai… Samaira bhi baat nahi karti usse maybe he has done something with her as well”
She never believed rumors. But the dots… were connecting.
Her anger simmered beneath the surface. But her guilt? It clawed in quietly. The slap. The harsh words. Maybe she hadn’t seen his breaking point as clearly as she thought.
Maybe… she didn’t hate him as much as she convinced herself.
But for now, pride wrapped around her like a shield. So she stayed hidden behind him, both of them inches apart, yet galaxies away in their hearts, each silently fighting their own guilt, confusion… and the complicated ache neither could explain yet.
The car hummed steadily along the highway, headlights slicing through the soft veil of night, but for Aditi? It felt like she was stuck inside a full-blown Bollywood slow-motion scene… of her own making.
Curled by the window, arms folded, head resting against the cool glass, her brain buzzed with every chaotic thought possible. “What if it’s true…? What if he actually… likes me?” The teasing words from Priya and Shagun looped like a badly downloaded ringtone, stubborn and glitchy, impossible to ignore.
“No, no, pagal mat ban… bas coincidence hoga sab,” she told herself, gnawing at the inside of her cheek.
But curiosity? That was deadlier than logic. Fighting every ounce of overthinking, she cautiously, super discreetly turned her head toward the last row.
And there he was.
Ansh-the Head Boy, Mr. ‘Discipline is my personality’, the boy who looked like he could draft the school rule book and model for a fashion magazine in the same hour-completely passed out.
And what a sight.
His usual sharp, calculating expression was gone. His jaw relaxed, the faintest pout playing on his lips, his hair slightly messy and tumbling over his forehead. His cheeks puffed softly with every steady breath, lashes fanning against his skin, and the slight scrunch of his brows remained-stubbornly carrying the ‘I’m responsible even in sleep’ energy.
Aditi’s lips twitched, the beginnings of a mischievous smile creeping in. ” yeh itne cute lag saktein hai sote hue,” she thought, trying not to laugh.
The devil on her shoulder? Whispered one glorious, stupid idea.
“Ek photo toh banti hai…”
Quick as lightning, she lifted her phone, tapped the camera, adjusted the frame… click.
FLASH.
“Oh. Shit.”
The inside of the car lit up like Diwali for half a second-more than enough to expose her entire crime.
Her heart plummeted. Pure panic smashed into her ribs. “ho gaya kand”
She flung her phone onto the seat beside her like it had betrayed her, curled against the window, and clamped her eyes shut, faking the most Oscar-worthy sleeping pose ever invented.
But it was too late. Ansh stirred. Brows furrowing, lashes fluttering open, eyes scanning the slightly illuminated car interior.
Sanjay ? Still humming old songs at the wheel.
Priya? Drooling on Shagun’s shoulder, lost to the world.
Prateek? Snoring like a foghorn.
Aman? Looking like he’d rather wrestle a tiger than deal with existing.
Samaira? Untouched by drama, asleep with crossed arms like a mafia queen.
And then… Aditi.
Sleeping? Supposedly. Her face half-hidden by her hair, features peaceful, breathing suspiciously controlled.
His gaze lingered. Way longer than necessary.
The glow from distant streetlights painted soft shadows on her face-the delicate slope of her nose, the faintest frown line between her brows, the way her lips pressed into a faint pout like she was battling inner chaos even in sleep.
Something in his chest squeezed-warm, unfamiliar, and ridiculous. But just as he softened, her eyes cracked open.Half a peek.
Boom.
Their eyes locked. Aditi’s pupils dilated in sheer horror.Ansh’s heart? Gone. Absolutely gone.
The tension skyrocketed, heavy, crackling, awkwardly fascinating.
Aditi’s brain screamed in panic”He saw… he saw everything…ab to tu gyii aditi…”
Ansh’s brain equally betrayed him”she again caught me starring at her…kitna cheap samjhegi ab ye mujhe.”
His brows lifted, faint amusement peeking through the fog of exhaustion.
Aditi froze. Lips parted. Breath jammed somewhere between shock and embarrassment.
Just as the world threatened to combust, a sleepy, disoriented mumble cut through the charged silence:
“Soo jao dono… aur sone do…”Priya, dead asleep, still somehow managing to interrupt their melodrama like clockwork.
Aditi practically dove into the window, turning away, cheeks burning hotter than the car’s AC vents. “Mar gayi… gayii tu aaj”
Ansh, startled, cleared his throat, forcing his face neutral, eyes sliding shut, but internally? Full chaos.
Neither moved for a good five minutes. Aditi, pretending to be in the deepest REM cycle of her life. Ansh, stealing glances every time he thought she wasn’t looking. Both painfully aware of each other’s presence, the air thick with unspoken awkwardness.
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It was nearing midnight. The highway, slick with rain, stretched endlessly ahead – a dark, shimmering ribbon under the flickering glow of passing streetlights. Trees swayed violently against the howling wind, the car’s headlights slicing through sheets of water pouring from the sky.
Inside the car, the soft hum of tyres gliding across the drenched road had lulled everyone into a drowsy silence.
At first, the raindrops were gentle a comforting rhythm, nature’s lullaby. But then, in a blink the sky cracked open.
The soft taps turned into a battering storm. The sound of the rain intensified, like a thousand fists pounding against the windshield. Thunder rolled, heavy and cruel. A flash of lightning painted the world in a moment of white.
Aditi stirred first, rubbing her eyes as she curled near the window.
“Yeh mausam bhi na… bas neend badhata hai,” Priya mumbled, stretching, clearly not fully awake.
Shagun blinked blearily and adjusted her scarf. “Perfect time to start regretting our timing.”
But at the front seat… Aman wasn’t blinking.He wasn’t moving.Because this wasn’t now anymore.
This was then.
The storm outside didn’t sound like rain to him. It sounded like that night.The wind became sirens.The raindrops became glass.The thunder was metal screeching and a mother’s scream that never left his bones.
He couldn’t breathe.Not properly.Not now.
His chest tightened like it had been crushed in a vice. His nails dug into his palms. A tremor began in his shoulder and traveled through his arm. The light in his eyes faded not with sleep, but fear.
He was trapped again.In that car.That scream.That loss.
Sanjay, who had glanced at Aman just seconds ago, immediately noticed the change. His voice came out low and urgent. “Aman? Beta? Are you okay?”
But Aman couldn’t respond. His ears were ringing. His world spinning.The others were beginning to notice now, the way his body had stiffened, the sweat on his brow despite the cold, the panic overtaking his face.
“Isse kya hua?!” Samaira demanded, her voice cutting through the rising concern.
Ansh fumbled in his bag behind her, panic beginning to flicker in his own eyes. “He-He gets panic attacks… from rain. He can’t handle thunder.”
He couldn’t even finish the sentence.But Samaira didn’t need him to.She understood.And in a heartbeat, she acted.
Without hesitating, without speaking another word she threw her door open and ran into the merciless rain, the cold instantly soaking her from head to toe. The thunder roared again but her feet didn’t falter.Her hair clung to her face. Her scarf flew like a banner behind her.
She yanked open Aman’s door and what she saw hit her like a gut-punch.
Aman stoic, distant, calculated Aman – was shaking. His shoulders were hunched as if the world had caved in on him. His eyes were wide and unfocused, lips parted but no words coming. His chest rose and fell in broken, choking gasps.
She didn’t call his name. She didn’t waste time asking him what was wrong.She simply reached up with rain-soaked fingers and slipped her headphones over his ears.
The music flowed in: soft, low, calming. No rain. No thunder. Just rhythm. Just grounding.And then, she cupped his face with both hands – her palms freezing, but steady – and leaned close until her forehead nearly touched his.
“Look at me,” she said softly, but with that unshakeable command only she could wield.His frantic, blurred gaze slowly shifted toward her, blinking as if dragging himself out of a nightmare.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she whispered, her thumbs gently brushing the cold sweat from his temples.”Not while we are here. You’re not alone, Aman.”
And it worked.His breathing began to ease.The tremble in his fingers lessened.He blinked again – and this time, he saw her. Drenched, defiant, furious at the rain – and yet, not leaving.
She didn’t care about her clothes, or the stares, or the silence that had existed between them for weeks.All she cared about… was him.
His heartbeat slowed – not out of peace, but because it was suddenly echoing her presence.Why? he thought.Why her? Why now?Why does she always come back when I push her away?
Why does she still care when he gave her every reason not to? Sanjay opened the door behind them, umbrella forgotten in hand.
“Samaira beta… main peeche baith jaata hoon. Tum drive kar lo, theek hai?” he said gently, seeing the way Aman was finally, finally breathing.She nodded, her fingers still adjusting the headphones to make sure the thunder remained distant for him.
As she stepped around the car to take the driver’s seat, Prateek leaned forward nervously, trying to lighten the mood.
“Didi…aap pakka zinda pohcha dogi na?” he half-whispered, half-joked, but his eyes still flicked to Aman’s fragile form.”Shut up, Prateek,” Samaira muttered not with anger, but distraction.
Because for the first time in weeks maybe ever she wasn’t angry at Aman.She was scared for him.
The highway stretched endlessly ahead, shimmering under the receding rain as the car cruised along. Inside, the faint sound of music filled the space the storm outside muted, but the chaos inside? Very much alive.
Samaira sat at the wheel, eyes sharp on the road, droplets still trailing down from her damp hair onto her jacket. Despite the soaked clothes and the exhaustion, her grip on the steering remained firm, gaze steady… yet her mind? Wandering dangerously toward the boy seated beside her.
Aman stared blankly out the windshield, headphones still on, music drowning the world, but his heart… nowhere close to calm. His chest ached with unfamiliar weight-not from panic now-but from the realization that even after all his mistakes, she stayed. That storm outside wasn’t his biggest fear anymore. Losing this chaos was.
Meanwhile, the real circus had already begun in the backseat.
Priya, crouched between Aditi and Shagun, leaned in dramatically, whispering like she was dropping some major breaking news,”Inka toh cold war chal raha tha na? “
Aditi, still half-processing the rain scene, nodded hesitantly,”Haan… kaafi dinon se baat nahi kar rahe the dono….”
Prateek, beside them, nodded in agreement, still wide-eyed from watching Samaira pull Aman back from that breakdown like a pro.
Shagun smirked, arms crossed, clearly piecing the puzzle together,”Hmmm…, pakka kuch to chal raha hai in dono ke beech.”
Ansh, who had been quietly observing the chaos, frowned slightly, genuinely confused,
“Jaise ki?”
“Jaise ki… Bhaiya… something-something types,” Priya chimed in dramatically, twiddling her fingers together exactly like that iconic scene from Ramaiya Vastavaiya, her face oozing pure mischief.
“Something-something?”
“Something-something?”
Both Aditi and Ansh echoed at the exact same moment, their voices overlapping like perfectly synced music notes, confusion painting identical expressions on their faces.
The group paused.
Aditi’s eyes met Ansh’s startled wide orbs, both processing the coincidental unison – and then, just as quickly, they both awkwardly looked away, pretending that moment did not just happen.
“Haan haan… aise hi something-something,” Shagun chimed in, grinning wickedly, her eyes flickering between the two ‘accidental lovebirds,’ fully enjoying their growing awkwardness.
Before the teasing could escalate, Samaira’s voice cut through like a loudspeaker from the front seat,”Itna dimaag chalane ki zarurat nahi hai tum sabko… kyunki hai hi nahi tumhare paas.”
Her no-nonsense tone instantly snapped everyone to attention – backs straight, eyes forward, expressions guilty as if they’d been caught smuggling secrets across the border.
“Nahi nahi Didi… hum toh kuch bhi nahi kar rahe the!” Aditi blurted out, the panic on her face comically obvious as she scrambled to change the topic.
“Haan Didi… bas dress decide kar rahe the, kaunsi pehnenge trip ke liye,” Shagun immediately backed her up, like a perfectly coordinated teammate.
“Haan haan wohi… bas dresses ki baat ho rahi thi,” Priya added, struggling to keep a straight face as laughter bubbled beneath the surface.
Samaira’s eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror, her sharp gaze settling on the two boys sitting awkwardly in the back,”Aur tum dono bhi dress pehnne wale ho kya?”
Both boys froze like statues faces turning crimson, eyes wide as saucers.
“Nahi nahi… hum kyu pehnenge dress?” Prateek sputtered, his voice cracking mid-sentence, earning a round of snickers from the girls.
Ansh, clearly trying to salvage his Head Boy dignity, added quickly,
“Woh toh bas hum… suggest kar rahe the… in logon ko kaunsi pehnni chahiye.”
“Oh I see… toh suggest karo zara… kis pe kaunsa colour suit karega?” Samaira’s smirk widened, her tone dripping with playful challenge.
“Huh? Main?” Ansh’s eyes nearly doubled in size, panic flashing across his usually composed face.
Samaira, unfazed, turned her attention to her younger brother,”Prateek… tu bata, Priya pe kaunsa colour suit karega?”
Priya’s breath hitched. Her eyes darted nervously, cheeks flushing pink as she stole a glance at Prateek.
Prateek, visibly flustered but trying to play it cool, cleared his throat,”Umm… I guess… yellow?”
The car erupted in giggles as Priya hid her face behind her hands, the crimson on her cheeks impossible to hide.
Samaira grinned wider,”Accha… ab Ansh… tu bata Shagun pe kaunsa colour jayega?”
Before Ansh could combust from stress, Shagun leaned in, whispering softly,”Bhaiya… green bol do… mast lagta hai.”
Relieved beyond measure, Ansh nodded quickly,”Ahh… green… definitely green.”
The group hummed in approval, eyes twinkling with amusement. But Samaira wasn’t done yet.
“Aur Aditi pe?” Her words sliced through the atmosphere like a slow-moving bomb, the entire car falling eerily silent.
Ansh? Became a fused bulb – frozen, sparks of awkwardness flying internally.
Aditi, meanwhile, had shrunk half into the car door, mentally begging the seat to swallow her whole, her heartbeat louder than the car engine. Her cheeks blossomed into the softest shade of pink as she avoided Ansh’s gaze like it was radioactive.
“Bataa…” Samaira pushed again, her eyes laser-focused.
Ansh’s eyes, helplessly drawn to Aditi, finally met hers that fleeting moment, where every sound faded, and the world paused.
And before logic could filter his mouth, the words tumbled out – soft, genuine, almost reverent:
“Red.”
It wasn’t rehearsed. It wasn’t forced. It was as if he’d seen her, really seen her, and the only word his brain could register was red – fiery, bold, beautiful.
Aditi’s breath caught entirely, her blush deepening, flustered beyond saving.
And then – trust Prateek to ruin the cinematic tension – he clapped his hands together, laughing,”Hahaha… yeh toh traffic light ban gayi – red, yellow, green!”
“Haan haan… bilkul… traffic signal!” Ansh jumped in nervously, desperate to mask his accidental confession, his ears still burning red.
Everyone burst out laughing, the moment spiraling back into goofy chaos, but Priya and Shagun? Their sly glances exchanged in silent understanding, the ‘something-something’ theory practically confirmed now.
Meanwhile, Aditi turned to stare out the window, hiding her face, her heart thudding so loud she was sure the whole car could hear.
And Ansh?
Still smiling awkwardly, still flustered, but unable to shake off the vision of Aditi in red – the colour never looked more dangerous.
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That’s all for this chapter, Bubbles! ✨
I truly hope you enjoyed it and more than anything, I really hope it made you feel something.
If any scene touched your heart, made you smile, or even gave you tiny butterflies…Don’t forget to vote and drop your thoughts in the comments
See you in the next chapter!
Till then, be healthy, stay safe, keep smiling, and always keep reading.
With love,
Prachi 💌
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I’D – pixiee_wrts
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