Riva entered the contestant hall, silver pass in hand, glowing and grinning like she had just won the world. A few contestants noticed her at the entrance, eyes trailing her as she slowly walked toward the center of the hall like she was in a trance—each step drawing more attention.
Then, with a gleam in her eyes, she raised the pass above her head like a trophy and joyfully shouted—
"Selected!"
The announcement echoed through the hall, instantly grabbing everyone's attention. Most contestants clapped—some out of genuine joy, others just out of politeness. A few exchanged looks that silently said, "Okay, you're not the only one who got selected."
But none of that mattered. Because at the center table, four contestants erupted with loud cheers, whistles, and excited yells. In a flash, they jumped up and rushed toward the Pahadi singer like a bunch of kids spotting free ice cream.
Riva was immediately pulled into a tight hug by her elder cousin, Mamta Chandiyal.
Dressed in a neat sky-blue salwar suit, a simple bindi on her forehead, and her hair tied in a sleek bun, Mamta looked like the epitome of calm and discipline. Her classical singer aura was unmistakable.
"I knew it! You were meant for this. Congratulations, baby sister," she said, hugging Riva warmly and gently patting her back with pride.
They separated, and Riva gave her sister a big, heartfelt smile.
"It's all because of you, Di! Thank you so much!" she beamed, eyes sparkling with gratitude.
Mamta, who herself was a classically trained singer and already had a silver pass of her own, felt even more proud seeing her little sister's achievement. She returned a big, warm smile to Riva, her eyes twinkling with pride.
"This is exactly why I used to scold you during riyaaz," she said with a soft laugh, nudging Riva's arm. "Now it really feels like it was worth it."
Their emotional moment was interrupted by a dramatic voice from behind them.
"Okay okay, emotional sisters move aside! Now our Riva Madam needs to give us a proper party!"
Tara stepped forward, dressed in a trendy black off-shoulder top with ripped jeans and silver hoops in her ears, she looked like she had just stepped off a music video shoot, with her usual sassy smirk, pulling Riva into a hug. Her kohl-lined eyes sparkled with her signature mischief.
"Congratulations, My pahadi bana!" she added with a wink.
Riva laughed and flicked Tara's nose playfully.
"Thanks, my drama queen! To Remind you also got selected, But don't worry, snacks and selfies are on me tonight!"
Before Tara could throw back a comeback, Mamta stepped in, looking mildly alarmed.
"Guys, this isn't party time! We have to practice for the next round. And Kabir still hasn't even gone for his audition!" she said, glancing at the quiet boy standing behind them.
Kabir Mehta, with his shy smile, slightly tousled hair, and simple t-shirt-and-jeans look, took a step forward as all eyes turned to him. He offered Riva a quick, polite side hug.
"Congratulations, Didi," he said softly.
Riva ruffled his hair affectionately.
"Thank you, chhota packet! Now go rock that audition!"
Before anyone could respond, a tall, broad-shouldered guy beside Kabir stepped forward with a smug grin. With his dusky skin and bouncer-like presence, he looked intimidating—until he spoke.
Pratham Singh, in his maroon bomber jacket, white tee, and black cargos, looked like he could crush the mic—or someone's ego.
"Congrats, Chandiyal," he said, offering her a firm handshake. "Just hope you didn't charm the judges more than I did."
Riva narrowed her eyes at him with mock suspicion.
"Oh please, Pratham! You didn't charm the judges—you traumatized them with your screaming! They probably gave you the pass just to make you leave the room!"
The group burst into laughter. Kabir chuckled quietly, Tara clapped like she'd heard the joke of the year, and even Mamta couldn't hide her smile.
Then Tara spun toward Mamta dramatically.
"See, Miss Serious Chandiyal? Four out of five of us are already through! And we know Kabir will slay his audition."
She nudged Kabir teasingly.
"Right, chocolate boy?"
Kabir turned beet red, his ears giving him away as he looked down shyly. Riva smirked at him knowingly, but then turned to Mamta.
"Tara's right, Di. We're all here now, and I'm 100% sure Kabir will join us too. After this, the rounds will only get tougher. Who knows who'll make it or go home. So let's enjoy this moment while we have it."
Mamta let out a long sigh before finally raising her hand in surrender.
"Fine. But only one hour. And just light snacks!"
"Party!" Tara cheered, throwing her hands up.
"Riva's treat!" Pratham added, already dreaming of the menu.
---
After some time, Kabir gave his audition—and as expected, he got selected too.
Later, the gang sat around a circular table, snacks in the middle, still buzzing from Riva's earlier performance.
Riva grinned, clapping her hands. "Okay, we're going to The Groove Factory! It's Mumbai's best club—I've always wanted to go there. And guess what? Megha Sinha loves that place too! I read it in an article."
Tara raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Megha. I don't think she loves anything. Have you seen her face? It's like a stone."
Riva pouted. "Hey! That's not true. She smiled at me during my audition after giving a really detailed comment. She said my voice texture is quite common, but it has a kind of pureness. And when I asked for a selfie, she smiled a second time! A little one, but it counts."
Tara looked unconvinced. "Megha? Smile? Nah. She didn't even look at me properly."
Mamta added softly, "Same here. She just nodded at me."
Riva grinned. "Maybe I'm special?"
Tara rolled her eyes and leaned back. "Whatever. I don't like her. That lady walks like she owns the whole country. I wish there were some other judge instead of her."
Riva pouted. "She does not! She's just confident. And stylish. And talented. And—"
Kabir chuckled. "And totally your crush."
Mamta giggled quietly, while Pratham shook his head with a smile.
Tara smirked. "You'd probably polish her shoes if she asked."
Riva gave a dreamy smile. "Gladly. With rose water."
Everyone burst into laughter, and just like that, the plan was sealed.