Bade Sapne

◇ Part 1 ◇

A/N: I usually hate the stories where they tell you to listen to music while u read, but the song Bekhyali here would be absolutely PERFECT while you read. Enjoy ;)

Vira’s POV

I’d left the apartment before Priya even realized I was gone. She was with Abhi, and after everything that had happened, I needed some time alone. Time to clear my head, to get away from the endless cycle of accusations, rumors, and misunderstandings. But now, walking down this crowded street, I wondered if leaving was a mistake.

The air was heavy with humidity, the kind that made you feel like you were constantly suffocating. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt lower over my face, trying to stay invisible, unnoticed. But it wasn’t working. I could feel the eyes on me, the whispers starting as people began to recognize who I was.

I should’ve known better than to go out in public, especially after that interview, the rumors, and all the talk about me and Shubman. The media had painted me as some manipulative villain, the cause of every wrong turn in his life. And I had no way to fight back. No way to defend myself. Anything I said would only make it worse.

I turned a corner, hoping the quieter street would give me some peace, but it didn’t. The whispers followed me, growing louder, more persistent.

“Woh dekho, woh Vira hai na?”

“Wahi, jo Shubman ka career barbaad kar rahi hai…”

I kept walking, my heart pounding in my chest, the weight of their words pressing down on me. It felt like everywhere I went, I couldn’t escape it—the judgment, the assumptions, the lies. It was suffocating.

Why didn’t I just stay home?

I shoved my hands deeper into the pockets of my hoodie and quickened my pace, but the whispers weren’t just whispers anymore. They were louder now, harsher.

“Is she seriously showing her face in public?”

“Kis muh se aayi hai yahan?”

A group of people standing by a tea stall stared at me as I passed. I tried not to meet their eyes, but I could feel their gaze piercing through me, dissecting me. The judgment was almost palpable.

Just keep walking. Don’t stop. Don’t react.

But it wasn’t that simple. One by one, more people started noticing me. I could hear them muttering, their eyes following my every step.

“Match-fixer ke saath thi, right?”

“Haan, wohi. Dekho zara.”

The accusations felt like daggers, each word cutting deeper than the last. My pulse quickened, and my throat tightened. I didn’t deserve this. None of it was true. But no one cared about the truth. All they cared about was the headline, the drama, the scandal.

I took a sharp turn down another street, hoping to lose them, but it didn’t work. A few of them started following me, murmuring louder now.

“Why’s she hiding? What’s she so afraid of?”

“Maybe she’s guilty after all.”

My footsteps faltered for a second, the weight of their words almost too much to bear. I could feel my chest tightening, my breath becoming shallow. No, not now. Don’t break down now.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing more people gathering, their eyes glued to me like I was some kind of spectacle. Keep moving.

But with every step I took, they grew bolder. Closer. Someone laughed behind me, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t a kind laugh; it was mocking, taunting.

Suddenly, someone in the crowd shouted, “Hey, Vira! What do you have to say about ruining Shubman’s career?”

I froze for a split second, my heart slamming against my ribs. The world around me seemed to slow down, the noise blurring into a constant hum. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even breathe.

Before I could react, another voice chimed in, “Tell us! Did you make him throw the match? You’re the reason he’s in this mess, right?”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure, but my body was betraying me. My legs felt weak, my throat tight. The air was thick with tension, and I felt trapped, like a caged animal surrounded by predators waiting to pounce.

I quickened my pace, my breath coming in shallow gasps as the crowd grew more restless, more hostile. The shouts became louder, the accusations harsher. I could feel the panic rising in my chest, clawing at my insides.

Just as I was about to turn another corner, someone stepped into my path, blocking my way.

“Where do you think you’re going? You owe us an explanation!” he snarled, his face contorted with anger.

I backed away, my mind racing, heart pounding in my ears. I didn’t have an explanation. I didn’t have anything to say. I just needed to get away. Away from the stares, the whispers, the accusations.

Before I could find my way out, the crowd started closing in. My breath caught in my throat, and I knew—I had to get out of here.

But how? Hare Ram... mujhe bachao...
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A/N:

This chapter was low-key kinda hard to write, because I can imagine just how terrified Vira must have felt in this moment...

BUT HOPEFULLY YOU GUYS LIKED IT ❤️

Tell me what you thought ;)

Stay tuned ;)