The Classy Thirteen

Disney Fantasy

Prerna’s POV

I don’t know what hit me first. The sting in my chest or the numbness that followed it. Maybe both came together, like two waves colliding inside me, drowning me before I could even gasp for air. One moment, I was standing backstage, still glowing from the applause, the cheers, the sound of “Ramayan!” echoing in the auditorium. The next, I was standing frozen, my eyes refusing to believe what they’d just seen.Vivaan and Rakshita, too close for comfort, too close for reason.

It wasn’t just proximity. It was intimacy. The kind you can’t explain away. The kind that burns your insides before you even cry.

For a second, I thought no, no, maybe it’s something else. Maybe she tripped, maybe he was helping, maybe... But the tears betrayed me before logic could defend him. They fell, warm, relentless, unstoppable.

And that’s when Reyan’s voice pierced through the silence.
“Prerna, tune dekha na? Aakarsh told you yeh banda sahi nahi hai. Matlab stage ke peeche bhi flirt karne gaya tha!”

Aakarsh followed, his tone calmer but his words sharper. “Prerna, I’m telling you, he’s not worth it. I’ve been saying this from day one. You deserve better.”

I didn’t even look at them. I couldn’t. I was staring at the stage curtain, still swaying slightly from the last act, still carrying traces of laughter and claps — such a cruel contrast to what was happening inside me. My throat was dry, but somehow, the words escaped.
“Maybe… it was just a misunderstanding. Maybe I should at least listen to him once.”

Reyan scoffed. “Misunderstanding? Behan meri, woh baarish me long drive pe gaya tha uske saath. Apni car se ghar drop kiya usko. Apni jacket tak usko pehnayi hui thi.”

My eyes snapped up at that. “What do you mean long drive? Jacket?”

Aakarsh sighed. He reached into his pocket, unlocked his phone, and held it out. “Dekh le khud.”

The screen lit up - a short clip, recorded from a distance, clearly showing Vivaan’s car pulling up outside Mayank's place two days ago, I guess. The door opened, Rakshita stepped out, smiling for whatever reason, wearing his jacket. Vivaan followed, his hand brushing hers for a second before she walked towards the door.

The video lasted all of twenty seconds, but it was enough to destroy two months of love, of trust, of believing in “us.”

The world went silent. The chatter around blurred out, even Reyan’s next comment faded into nothing. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, loud and fast, and the sound of something fragile, maybe my heart breaking quietly inside me.

Aakarsh put a hand on my shoulder. “Prerna, I didn’t wanna show you this like this… but tu deserve karti hai sach janna.”

Saying nothing, I handed the phone back, my fingers trembling slightly. My breath came out uneven, as if my lungs didn’t want to cooperate with my heart anymore.

And then, it hit me, the realization that the one person I trusted to never make me feel small, had done exactly that, in the worst way possible.

---

I don’t remember how I got out of that backstage area. One minute I was standing there, the next I was walking fast. No, running down the corridor. My heels echoed against the marble floor, each step louder than the last, and my saree’s pallu flew behind me like some tragic trail of white silk and tears.

People were congratulating each other, laughing, clicking pictures — no one noticed me slipping away. Maybe that was for the best.

The girls’ dressing room was empty when I entered. I locked the door behind me, leaned against it, and finally let go.