Author's POV :
"Why did you come to my house, Preeti?" she asked, finally breaking the silence. "I thought you had plans with your family tonight."
Preeti looked at her, her eyes filled with understanding. "I heard what happened," she said softly. "And I knew you'd need a friend."
Ahana's eyes widened in surprise. "How?" she whispered.
Preeti gave her a sad smile. "Walls have ears, especially in a college town," she said. "And apparently, so do your neighbors."
Ahana felt a flicker of anger. "They've been spying on me?" she said, her voice low.
Preeti squeezed her hand. "Not just you," she said. "Everyone. You're the talk of the town after what happened at the concert."
Ahana felt a blush creep up her neck. "I didn't mean for it to become such a big deal," she said, her voice small.
Preeti squeezed her hand. "It's okay," she said. "But you know what? Sometimes, it's good for things to come out in the open."
Ahana nodded, feeling the truth of her friend's words. Maybe it was time for her to stand up for herself, to show her family that she was more than just a girl with a crush. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Preeti leaned in, giving her a quick hug. "You'd be fine," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "But I'm here, so you don't have to find out."
Meanwhile, Adhwik's penthouse suite was a hive of activity. He paced back and forth, his phone glued to his ear as he barked orders to his manager, trying to control the spreading gossip about Ahana's backstage escapade. His heart raced with anxiety, not just for her reputation but for the depth of feelings he had realized he had for her. He had never felt this protective or concerned about a fan before. It was something more profound, and he didn't quite know how to process it.
"Look," he said into the phone, his voice tight with tension, "I don't care what it takes. I need you to handle this discretely. No tabloids, no paparazzi. Just make it go away."
On the other end of the line, his manager's voice was calm and reassuring. "I understand, Adhwik. I'm on it. But you know how these things can spiral out of control."
Adhwik's grip on the phone tightened. "Just do what you can," he said, his voice strained. "I can't have her go through this."
As he hung up, his father, Mr. Sharma, entered the suite, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "What's going on?" he asked, his eyes taking in his son's disheveled state.
Adhwik turned to face him, his heart racing. "It's about Ahana," he said, the words feeling heavy on his tongue. "Someone took a picture of us backstage, and it's going around like wildfire."
Mr. Sharma's expression grew serious. "What kind of picture?" he asked, his eyes searching his son's face.
Adhwik's shoulders slumped. "It's just us talking," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "But you know how people can twist things."
Mr. Sharma's gaze softened. "I know you care for her," he said, his voice gentle. "But is it more than that? Do you truly have feelings for this girl?"
Adhwik felt his throat tighten. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice ragged. "But I can't stand the thought of her being hurt because of me."
Mr. Sharma's gaze searched his son's face, understanding dawned. "You love her," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and concern.
Adhwik ran a hand through his hair, his eyes avoiding his father's. "I don't know," he murmured. "But I can't just sit here and do nothing while she's out there, dealing with this mess."
