Memories

3

Shivani

I pace back and forth across the college garden, the hem of my kurta swishing against my legs as the evening breeze carries faint laughter from the hostel blocks. Normally, the garden is my comfort zone, a place to breathe. Tonight, though, I can't sit still. My chest feels tight, my thoughts knotted.

He's late. Again.

But that isn't what makes my stomach twist in anxious circles. No, the real reason is far worse: the committee has invited him—Karthik Veer Singha, Bollywood's chocolate boy, my secret boyfriend—and his director to be the chief guests at our upcoming youth festival.

Just thinking about it makes me want to bang my head against the nearest tree.

This was never supposed to happen. I never even wanted to be part of the festival committee in the first place, but Anjali—with her "it'll be fun, Shivani!" pep talk—dragged me into it. Now I'm stuck. And worse, I'll have to see my boyfriend treated like a celebrity on my campus while I pretend, he's just another star. The thought alone makes me want to scream.

Before I can spiral further, two familiar arms slip around my waist. Warm. Steady. His.

I jerk his hands off instantly. "You're late," I snap without turning around.

"I'm sorry, baby," he says, his voice laced with guilt and that boyish charm I can never resist. "The shoot ran longer than expected. Please don't be mad."

I spin around, glaring. His face is tired, yet he's still smiling at me as though just being here with me erases his exhaustion. My irritation softens, but not completely. "It's not about you."

He frowns. "Then what's wrong?"

I cross my arms, biting back a sigh. "You know our youth festival is coming up, right? Guess who the chief guests are."

"Who?"

"You and your director."

His eyes widen, then crinkle with amusement. "That's a good thing, isn't it? At least I'll get to spend time with you."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Spend time? With you? Don't make me laugh. I'll be running around the entire time. And Maria—the coordinator—will make sure of it. She's already daydreaming about meeting you. So, tell me, how exactly do you think I'll be free?"

He chuckles softly and reaches for my hand. His thumb brushes over my knuckles in that soothing way that always makes my heart stumble. "Shivani, relax. We'll figure it out. Forget Maria. Forget the committee. Just think about us. We'll steal our moments, like we always do. And this is your last youth festival—you should make it unforgettable."

His voice is steady, grounding me in ways I didn't know I needed. I breathe out, my shoulders dropping. Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm overthinking.

"Fine," I murmur, half-smiling. "But if Maria faints at your feet, don't say I didn't warn you."

He laughs, pulling me close until my forehead rests against his chest. "As long as you're the one standing beside me, I don't care about anyone else."

For a second, everything feels right again. Later that night, Anjali's voice shatters the peace. "Shivani! Come here, hurry!"

I groan, throwing my notebook aside. "What now?"

"Karthik's new interview is out! Google's Most Searched Questions with Karthik! Quick, let's watch!"

My pulse spikes. This can't be good.

Karthik

The studio lights are blinding, but I keep my smile in place. This is part of the job, after all.

"Okay, Karthik," the host announces, holding up a stack of cards. "We've collected the most searched questions about you on Google. All you have to do is peel them off and answer. Ready?"

"Yeah, let's do it," I reply, masking my nerves.

The first few questions are harmless. "Does Karthik know Hindi? " Of course."

"Does Karthik have a phobia? " Not that I know of."

Then comes the one that makes my chest tighten. "Does Karthik have any tattoos?"

I grin, rolling up my sleeve. "Yes, three. One's a mantra on my right wrist—Om Namah Shivaniaya. Another's an infinity sign on my ankle. And the last one..." I pause for a beat, pride swelling before caution can stop me, "...is a couple tattoo I got with my girlfriend."

Gasps ripple around. The cameras zoom in. Too late to take it back now.

The next card makes my throat go dry. "Does Karthik have a girlfriend?"

My smile stiffens. "Yes. I won't reveal her name, but she's in her final year of law school."

The words hang in the air like a dropped bomb. I know it the second I say it: Shivani's going to kill me.

The rest blur together. Birthday—June 24th. New movie release—tomorrow. Favourite colour—blue. Full name—Karthik Verma. Lucky number—four.

Then comes the final nail. "Is Karthik's girlfriend an actor?"

I exhale slowly. "No. She's a law student. She'll be finishing this year."

The interview ends with polite goodbyes, but my brain is a whirlwind. For years, Shivani and I have guarded our relationship like treasure, hiding it from the chaos of the world I live in. And in one careless interview, I've handed the media all the clues they need to find her.

As the cameras shut off, one thought pounds in my head: I'm dead. Shivani's going to kill me. And maybe, just maybe... I've put us both in danger