The night of the screening had bled into dawn.Applause still echoed in their ears; the sound refused to fade, clinging like stardust.
Rhea woke first. The dorm room was painted in gold, sunlight filtering through half-drawn curtains. Her phone blinked with messages — "You guys killed it!", "Best short film ever!", "Aarav's direction, wow!"
She smiled, half-asleep, half-dreaming. Her body ached from sleepless nights of editing, but her heart—her heart felt weightless. She turned her camera on out of habit, recording the golden light spilling across the sheets. "Morning after success," she whispered into the lens. "Still feels unreal."
Breakfast with a Buzz
The cafeteria buzzed like a beehive. Everyone wanted a piece of them — compliments, questions, interviews for the campus magazine.
Aarav stood at the center of it all, charming, confident, radiant. His laugh carried across the room, magnetic as ever.
Kabir watched from a corner table, fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He wasn't jealous—at least that's what he told himself. Aarav deserved it. He'd worked like fire, pulling their film to life from scraps and chaos.
Still, when he saw Rhea walk in, camera slung over her shoulder, his heart did that quiet, traitorous twist again.
She spotted him first, waving. "You're hiding here?"
He smiled softly. "Just giving the star some space."
She laughed, sliding into the seat across from him. "You mean Aarav?"
He nodded. "Who else?"
Rhea followed his gaze. Aarav was surrounded, gesturing animatedly, his voice carrying over the crowd. He looked alive — maybe too alive.
"He's already talking about the next film," Kabir said. "Something bigger. Something real-world."
Rhea tilted her head. "That's good, isn't it?"
Kabir smiled faintly. "It is. Just… I hope he remembers where this started."
Her hand brushed his, briefly, unintentionally. "He will," she said, though her voice carried the slightest tremor of doubt.
Dreams Begin to Stretch
Later, they gathered in the editing room again — their little creative sanctuary. Empty coffee cups, film reels, and laughter from yesterday lingered in the air.
Aarav was already sketching storyboards on the whiteboard. "Listen to this — a story about a lost photographer who captures truth instead of faces. I can already see it!"
Rhea leaned against the desk, amused. "You're not even taking a break?"
He shot her a grin. "You rest when the world stops watching. Not now."
Kabir joined quietly, arms crossed. "We just had our first win. Maybe breathe a little before chasing the next."
Aarav turned, half-joking, half-serious. "That's the difference between us, Kabir. I don't chase — I build."
The words weren't meant to sting, but they did. Kabir swallowed the silence.
Rhea sensed the shift in air — ambition had started humming louder than friendship.
She changed the subject quickly. "Let's take a group photo before we start fighting about who's more artistic."
That drew a laugh from both of them. Aarav threw an arm around their shoulders, pulling them close. The camera clicked — capturing another fragile balance before the cracks would show.
Between Applause and Ache
By afternoon, the buzz had spread beyond campus. Aarav's name was being whispered among visiting filmmakers, his DMs flooded with messages from small production houses.
Rhea watched from the sidelines, half-proud, half-lost. She had thought this victory would feel like theirs — but the world had a way of spotlighting one name at a time.
She found Kabir again near the terrace, gazing at the city skyline.
"Hey," she said softly.
He turned, smiling that same quiet smile. "You looked a little overwhelmed down there."
She exhaled. "Maybe I am. I wanted to celebrate, but it feels like… we're already drifting."
Kabir nodded. "He's chasing something bigger. You can't fault him for that."
Rhea looked at him. "And you? What are you chasing?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "Maybe something I shouldn't."
Her breath caught, but before she could ask, Aarav's voice echoed from below. "Rhea! Kabir! Come down — we got shortlisted for the regional film fest!"
They both turned, smiles blooming despite the heaviness between them.
"Guess the universe doesn't want us to overthink yet," she said.
Kabir chuckled softly. "Maybe not today."
Golden Hour Promises
That evening, they stood once more at their favorite terrace — the same one where they'd made their vow under the stars.
Aarav was already talking about lighting, sponsorships, camera upgrades. Rhea filmed him, her lens framing the man who never stopped dreaming.
Kabir stood a few feet away, his eyes not on the horizon but on the two of them — the light, the laughter, the quiet pull between ambition and affection.
When Aarav finally turned, grinning, "We're going places, you know that?" — Rhea smiled, but her heart whispered something else: And what if those places pull us apart?
The Unspoken Note
As the sun sank, Kabir packed up the tripod. Rhea lingered, adjusting her settings even though there was nothing left to film.
Aarav caught her hand. "Hey," he said, his voice gentler now. "You believe we can do this, right?"
She nodded. "Of course I do."
Kabir's hand stilled mid-motion. The moment was small — a shared glance, a quiet promise between them — but it hit him like thunder.
He turned away, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's get going. It's getting dark."
Neither of them noticed how tightly he was gripping the camera bag.