Aarav stepped into the auditorium, unaware of the thick silence that settled the moment he arrived. Every gaze turned toward him, and he frowned slightly, confused by the sudden attention.
"You're just in time, Aarav," the drama teacher said, her voice laced with expectation. "We have a tie for the role of Cinderella. Your vote will decide the winner."
His eyes flickered to the two girls at the center of the stage—Anaya and Misha.
Anaya's heart pounded against her ribs.
This was it.
She could feel her pulse in her fingertips, her breath caught somewhere between hope and fear. She had worked so hard for this role, not just because she wanted it, but because it meant something. A chance to stand beside Aarav on that stage. A chance to be close to him again.
Aarav hesitated, his expression unreadable.
The weight of the moment pressed on him, heavier than it should have been.
If he voted for Anaya, it would feel like an invitation—like a step toward something he wasn't sure he wanted. He knew she was trying to rebuild what they had, but he wasn't sure if he could pretend nothing had changed.
His fingers tightened around the pen.
He glanced at Anaya. Her hopeful eyes locked onto his, silently pleading.
Then, he looked away.
A moment later, he scribbled a name, folded the paper, and handed it over.
Anaya's breath hitched.
The teacher unfolded the slip, smiling slightly. "The role of Cinderella goes to… Misha!"
For a moment, everything around Anaya blurred.
The cheers, the claps, Misha's excited squeal—it all faded into a dull hum. She felt her chest tighten, an unfamiliar sting behind her eyes.
She forced a smile. She refused to let it show, refused to let anyone see how much it hurt.
Aarav hadn't even looked at her.
He had made his choice.
And with that, something inside her shattered.
That night, Anaya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The glow of her bedside lamp cast soft shadows on the walls, but the darkness in her heart felt heavier than the night outside.
She had told herself not to expect anything, that Aarav would do what he wanted, that she wouldn't let it hurt her. But when he chose Misha, something inside her cracked.
Maybe she had been holding onto false hope all along.
She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket tighter around her, as memories of them flooded her mind—midnight calls, shared secrets, uncontrollable laughter over the smallest things. How easily he had been a part of her world. And how easily he had walked away.
She had spent so long trying to hold onto him. Trying to fix what was broken.
But maybe… maybe some things weren't meant to be fixed.
Her fingers curled into the sheets.
She had given him too much of herself—her time, her thoughts, her feelings. And what had she gotten in return? Silence. Distance. An aching heart.
No more.
For the first time, she didn't feel like crying. She felt exhausted. Exhausted from chasing someone who didn't want to be caught.
She wasn't going to beg for his friendship anymore. She wasn't going to follow him like a shadow, hoping he'd turn around.
From now on, she would live for herself.
Aarav had chosen his path.
And now, she was choosing hers.