Under The Bollywood Sky [ON HOLD]

The Performance and the Past

Raunak's POV

"Always," I replied, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

The lights dimmed, and the play began. This was it—our last chance to perfect everything before the big day. Every line, every movement, every emotion had to be flawless. As I stepped onto the stage, all the doubts, worries, and questions melted away. It was just me, the character, and the story we had all worked so hard to bring to life.

For the first time in months, I felt at peace. No more questions, no more blurred lines. Just the stage, the spotlight, and the art that had become my refuge.

A Day After the Last Rehearsal

A ray of light hit the inner walls of my eyes. As soon as I opened my eyelids and tried to understand what was happening around me, it felt like I was back home, where my mother used to wake me up for school every day.

Keeping the muscle memory alive, I was fully awake after a few minutes and shocked to witness something extraordinary and strange—at least for now.

Savash was tidying up my bedsheets and putting things in their places. I kept staring at him as if it was the last day of the universe or something, because—what made this guy wake up before me and start doing household chores?

I couldn't hold myself back any longer and asked him out of concern, "What happened, bro?"

"Nothing, kya kuch hona tha kya?"

"Are you fine, Savash?"

"Ahmm, yes yes, I am more than fine. Yahan pe agar koi bimar hai, toh woh shayad aap hi hain janab."

"What?" I exclaimed in confusion and started scratching my head.

I was absolutely fine—what was he talking about? I wasn't getting it.

"Arey baba, today is your performance day, no? Don't you want to perform well, or have you forgotten everything and gotten lost in memories of Navya, huh?"

He taunted me for the first time with her name.

"Did you take me for a fool or something, Raunak? I've noticed you both for a long time. What's going on?" he asked, continuing to make my bed while I sat on the chair with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

"Arey no bhai, she is just a good friend of mine, just like you. And as for that 'closeness' thing, even I feel awkward when she spends too much time with me or does anything just for me. I don't want to hurt her by not responding or giving dry reactions. That would be rude, no?"

"Accha, theek bhai, aapki zindagi, aapki marzi. Now go get ready for college. I'm going to make breakfast."

Saying this, he went to the kitchen, leaving me astonished. I just hoped he made something edible. Although, I'd never heard him say he could cook. Even after we came to Mumbai, he only made some sandwiches for us in the early days, which were quite nice.