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Aaravika
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The lecture hall was suffocating, the air thick with the hum of the professor's monotonous voice. Words about renal physiology floated in the air, but I couldn't grasp a single one. My mind was elsewhere-on the viva and results that would be announced today. Looks like professors are taking their anger on us or else who keep both at the same time. Ugh! I tried to calm myself, but the anxiety was relentless.

I glanced at the clock. Fifteen more minutes of this torture. My pen tapped furiously against my notebook as I tried to steady my nerves. You've worked hard. You've prepared. What more could you have done? But the truth was, preparation didn't matter if I didn't meet expectations. My father's expectations, to be precise. I was consoling myself that the viva would go easy.

By the time the lecture ended, I was practically vibrating with unease. I shoved my things into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and bolted out of the classroom. The corridor buzzed with chatter, but I barely registered it. My earpods were my refuge; music filled my ears as I walked, trying to drown out the intrusive thoughts.

Fourth place isn't good enough, Aaravika.
What will people think if you don't come first?

I shook my head, forcing the voice out of my mind. The viva was easy. I'd nailed it. That wasn't the problem. The problem was whether my "best" would be enough for a man who only saw value in winning.

My earpods were in, music blasting in my ears as I walked through the alley toward the hospital. The world around me seemed to blur, each step carrying me closer to something I couldn't control.

I was too lost in thought to notice the man until it was too late.

We collided-hard.

The impact knocked me off balance, sending me stumbling back. My earpods flew out of my ears, crashing to the ground with a sickening snap.

I bent down, heart hammering in my chest, hoping to salvage them, but before I could even reach them, I heard the unmistakable sound of something hard crushing beneath a boot.

I froze.

When I looked up, my gaze was met with the coldest, most imposing figure I'd ever seen.

He stood at least 6 feet 7 inches, towering over me like a wall of ice. His dark eyes were unreadable-no warmth, no sympathy, just a chilling indifference. His jawline was sharp, his posture perfect, like a man who never had to bend to anyone or anything. He looked like a dangerous predator, the kind who didn't waste time on trivial things.

And yet, here I was, standing in front of him, my earpods shattered beneath his boot.

My anger surged. "You broke them!" I shouted, the frustration in my voice clear.

He didn't move. Didn't react. He just looked down at me, his gaze as cold as ice, as though I were a fleeting inconvenience he could easily ignore.

"Toh kya?" (So what?) he replied in a low voice, his words dismissive, almost mocking. "Buy new ones."

My jaw clenched. "Are you seriously just going to walk away without apologizing?"

His lips barely twitched in what might have been the start of a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He was a man who didn't apologize because he didn't need to. He didn't care about the small, insignificant things-certainly not a pair of broken earpods or some woman's feelings.

"Apologize?" He scoffed, his voice hard and cold. "Why waste my time on that? You were careless, not me."

The audacity of this man. "I wasn't careless, you jerk," I shot back, voice rising with irritation. "You came barreling around the corner like a bull in a china shop!"

He didn't flinch, didn't blink, just regarded me with that same detached, almost calculating look. "It's not my problem if you can't watch where you're going," he said, his tone flat, completely devoid of any empathy.

My blood boiled. I was fuming. Who the hell does this guy think he is?

But then, he did something that froze me in place. He leaned down, his towering form blocking out the sun as he looked me directly in the eye.

"You talk a lot for someone who doesn't matter," he said quietly, voice low but filled with an underlying venom that sent a chill down my spine. "I don't have time for your drama. So keep walking, or I'll make you regret it."

I stood there, frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. His words hung in the air like an unspoken threat. The coldness radiating off him was suffocating.

Was he serious?

"Bacchi," (Kid) he added, his eyes hard, his voice dripping with disdain. "Go back to your little world before I lose my patience."

Bacchi?

That word-so simple, so dismissive. It felt like a slap to my face. I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. He wasn't like anyone I had ever encountered. He wasn't someone who played games. He was a man who made his own rules and expected everyone else to follow them.

With one final glance, he turned and walked away, his long legs carrying him effortlessly as though I didn't even exist.

I stood there, staring after him, my thoughts a jumbled mess. His indifference had caught me off guard. This man didn't care about my broken earphones, didn't care about my anger, and definitely didn't care about me. Then, I scoffed how cruel he was but then, I realized I lost one of my jhumka but I didn't search it thinking due to my clumsiness I lost it.

But he was cold. Dangerous. A man who only cared about one thing-himself.

And yet... I couldn't shake the image of him-the towering figure, the cold gaze, the words that had sliced through me like a blade.

Why was I so... affected?

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

The viva went smoothly, but the knot in my stomach only tightened as I waited for the results. When they were finally announced, my heart sank. Fourth. I'd ranked fourth again.

The seminar hall buzzed with muted celebrations, but I couldn't bring myself to join. My hands trembled as I clutched my phone, staring at the number as though willing it to change. I'd worked so hard. Sleepless nights, endless revisions-was this all I was worth?

My father's voice played on a loop in my head. "Do you think anyone remembers who comes in fourth? They only remember the best."

I left the hall in a daze, unable to face anyone.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The Iskcon temple was quieter than usual, the scent of incense hanging heavy in the air. I sat in a corner, staring up at the idols of Radha and Krishna. Their serene expressions did little to calm the storm raging inside me.

"I tried, Savariya," I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks. "I gave it everything I had. Was it not enough?"

The temple's tranquility offered a temporary reprieve, but the weight of my father's expectations clung to me like a second skin.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

When I finally returned home, the storm broke.

The moment I stepped inside, my father's cold, calculating gaze pinned me in place. My aunt, always eager to fan the flames, smirked from her seat.

"Fourth place?" my father said, his voice eerily calm.

"Dad, I-"

The slap came out of nowhere, sharp and stinging.

"Do you even understand the humiliation you've caused me?" he roared. "Do you think I work this hard for you to come in fourth? What will people say when they find out?"

"I-I tried my best," I choked out, tears spilling over.

"Your best isn't good enough!" he shouted. "You're a disappointment. A waste of my money."

He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. "If you can't be first, don't bother showing your face in this house again."

I nodded numbly, too broken to argue.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

That night, Shruti called, her cheerful voice a welcome distraction.

"Abey, padaaku keeda," she teased. "How's it feel to be number one?"

"Fourth," I said flatly.

"What?!" she exclaimed. "What did your dad say?"

I laughed bitterly. "What do you think?"

She sighed. "Forget him. He's wrong, Aaravika. You worked hard, and that's what matters."

I told her about the Burj Khalifa who had ruined my earpods and my day.

"Sounds like a total jerk," she said, laughing. "Next time you see him, tell him, 'Burj Khalifa, andhe ho kya? Tumhare jaise log ke liye binoculars ka invention hona chahiye.'"

I laughed, her humor lifting my spirits. But later, lying in bed, I couldn't shake the image of him-those cold eyes, that infuriating smirk.

He's just a stranger, I told myself. He doesn't matter.

But deep down, I knew I was lying.

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Hi! It's me Shabnam😸, and I hope you liked the story 😉 Don't forget to like and follow me!
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