𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
What happens when
𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀 - the girl who mastered the art of being unseen,
stitched together with silence and scar tissue,
haunted by the ruins of love and friendsh...
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Saying yes to supervising an event was one thing.
Actually doing it? A whole other monster.
At first, I couldn't understand why they'd picked me. Then our mentor personally sought me out, commending my management skills during the last plantation assessment.
Apparently, he'd been impressed. Shockingly so.
If it had been up to me entirely, I would've declined. No hesitation. I hate the spotlight—hate the pressure, the eyes, the inevitable anxiety that follows.
But of course, Eve had other plans. She flashed me one of her sneaky say yes or I'll end you signals from behind our mentor, and next thing I knew, I was nodding like an obedient little puppet, thanking him as if I hadn't just been ambushed.
And now comes the hardest part: action. We packed all our belongings yesterday, ready to leave at dawn tomorrow.
Tonight is our final night in Sorhem, Himachal Pradesh.
It's also showcase night—the one that decides everything.
The judges will be watching.
The points will be counted.
The Best Branch Award will be claimed.
According to Eve's dangerously precise calculations, if we successfully pull off the Environment Event, that's mine and the Art Event, that's Naya's, there's a 99% chance we'll take the crown.
So yes, no pressure at all.
Right now, I'm doing everything I can to protect our branch's reputation, help everyone where I can, and pray I don't trip in this saree.
Because yes, I'm also dressed up.
Lavender saree. The same one I wore on Desi Disco night—recycled but reinvented by Evaana and Prii.
They'd added a statement belt and curled my hair. Eve had gone rogue with the makeup, insisting on her "moodboard vision." It felt intense, maybe even a little too bold—but I had an event to supervise. I didn't have the energy to argue.
"You look so beautiful, Myra!" Isha beamed, cornering me like a caffeinated paparazzo. Her phone flashed three times before I could even blink.
"Thanks, Isha. I love you, but I really need to go," I said, half-laughing, trying to duck away.
"No, you need to eat," she countered, shoving a kathi roll into my hand with that deadly glare that meant resistance was futile. Her lingering irritation from this morning was clearly still there.
Because this morning had been... awkward.
Lidhya Roy Kapoor happened.
A modelesque, half-British girl who looked like she stepped straight off the cover of Vogue. Kiaan's friend. Evaana's alleged "model twin." And for reasons only the universe understood, she'd chosen to refer to Evyaan as her "high school darling" in front of the entire breakfast table. Flirted with him.
