𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐡

2. spotlight.

The morning light filtered through the studio windows, but it offered no warmth to my heart. I sat on the floor, surrounded by scattered sheets of music, the melodies that once brought me joy now feeling like distant echoes of a life I could no longer recognize.

Tears streamed down my face.

"Hey, it's okay," Riya said softly, kneeling beside me and pulling me into an embrace.

"I thought he loved me," I blurted between sobs, my voice trembling. "I gave him everything, and he just-he just threw it away!"

Riya held me tighter, whispering words of comfort, but I felt trapped in a whirlwind of emotions. "Why wasn't I enough for him? What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Riya replied firmly, her grip reassuring. "He's the one who messed up. You deserve so much better than this."

But my thoughts spiraled back to him, to Ashish and his lies. My heart ached, and I felt like a fool for believing his sweet words and charming smile. Riya continued to speak, but I was lost in my own torment, drowning in a sea of sadness.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally found the strength to pull myself together. "I need to get out of here," I mumbled, wiping my eyes. Riya nodded, standing to help me up.

As I stepped out of the studio, the world outside felt oddly quiet, but the moment I crossed the threshold, my heart dropped. A swarm of paparazzi filled the hallway, their cameras flashing like lightning, and there, in the midst of the chaos, was Ashish.

"Just a few questions, Aaravi!" one reporter shouted, but my eyes were locked onto Ashish's, and the anger surged within me again.

He broke away from the crowd and approached me, his expression desperate. "Aaravi, wait!" He grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer. "Please, just listen to me."

"Why?" I spat, my heart racing with indignation. "What could you possibly say that would make any of this okay?"

"Aaravi, I was wrong, but you weren't allowing me to use your body," he said, his voice laced with a twisted logic. "I'm a man of needs, and I did what I had to do."

This was it. And a tight slap echoed through the hallway. And my breath caught in my throat. "You think my body is all that matters to me?" I yelled, my voice rising above the noise of the cameras. "You sick pervert!"

The world around us blurred as I pulled my hand free, my face flushed with rage. "You don't get to come back and manipulate me after what you did! I was not a toy for you to use!"

"Aaravi, please! I'm sorry! It was a mistake!" he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Sorry doesn't cut it! You destroyed me!" I shouted, the weight of my emotions crashing down. In one swift motion, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face, the sound echoing in the chaos around us.

He stood there, stunned, a mixture of shock and anger flaring in his eyes. I could feel the eyes of the paparazzi burning into me, capturing this moment of vulnerability turned defiance.

"Get away from me!" I screamed, turning on my heel and storming away, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

I hurried to my car, heart racing as I slid into the passenger seat. "Drive, now!" I ordered the driver, my voice shaky but firm.

As the car pulled away from the scene, I let out a shaky breath, tears spilling over once more. The weight of humiliation, betrayal, and hurt crashed down on me, and I couldn't hold back the flood of emotions.

The sound of clicking cameras faded as we drove further away, but I knew that the moment would haunt me forever, replayed in the gossip columns and headlines. All I could do was cry, my heart breaking as the reality of my situation sank in.