Chapter 1: A New Beginning, and an Unexpected Encounter
I stood at the edge of the college road, my fist raised to the sky in a defiant, almost theatrical gesture, channeling the bold protagonists of the light novels I'd devoured in my teenage years. The morning breeze swept across my skin, cool and invigorating, tugging playfully at my hair as if urging me to take that first step into the unknown. It carried the faint, earthy scent of dew-kissed grass and the sweet, intoxicating whisper of blooming jasmine, weaving a tapestry of freshness that seemed to hum with possibility. The world around me felt alive—vibrant and expectant—as if it, too, knew this was no ordinary day.
"This is it," I whispered, my voice soft, trembling just slightly, a fragile thread of sound against the vastness of the moment. "I'm done being a background character."
The words slipped out like a secret promise, a vow to myself that echoed in the rapid thump of my heart—half from nerves, half from a wild, unshakable hope. I could feel it: the weight of the past lifting, the future unfurling before me like the pages of a book waiting to be written.
The breeze swept through the trees lining the quiet street, their leaves rustling in a gentle chorus, tousling my hair and tugging at the edges of my blazer like a tender cheerleader spurring me onward. The air was alive with subtle sounds—the distant chirping of birds, the soft murmur of early morning life—while sunlight spilled through the branches, painting the pavement with fleeting golden patches that danced with every gust. It was a scene so serene, so perfect, that it felt like the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting for me to step forward.
Today wasn't just any day. Today, I would leave behind every cringeworthy moment of my awkward junior college days—those stinging memories of stumbling words and sidelong glances that still prickled at my pride. This was my fresh start, the dawn of something new, something extraordinary. It was the prologue of my own story, and I could feel the ink drying on the page as I stood there, poised to become the heroine I'd always dreamed of being.
No more glasses fogging up during group presentations, my vision blurring with embarrassment as classmates snickered. No more being the shy girl people forgot existed, a shadow slipping through life unnoticed. I, Nisha Bedage, had fought for this moment—months of late-night study sessions, caffeine-fueled meltdowns, and quiet triumphs had led me here. I had officially entered Raikar Government College, the crown jewel of institutions in my hometown, its name a beacon of prestige that shimmered in my mind. This institution, with its ivy-clad buildings that whispered tales of ambition and its reputation for molding brilliant minds, was my hard-won prize. I'd clawed my way here, not just to prove myself academically, but to rewrite my story. No longer would I be the shy, bespectacled girl who faded into the background. Today, I was stepping into the spotlight, ready to claim my place as the heroine of my own life.
And my goal?
Simple, yet daring:
To find a boyfriend.
Not just any boyfriend, mind you, but a breathtakingly handsome one. I'd wasted enough years waiting for my own love story to begin, gazing wistfully as others found their spark while I lingered in the margins. This time, I was writing it myself—seizing the pen and crafting a tale where I was the star, not the spectator.
I wanted my life to feel like a romantic movie, complete with heart-fluttering moments and serendipitous encounters that made my pulse race. There would be blushes traded in stolen glances, accidental hand touches that sent shivers down my spine, maybe even stolen kisses under the rain as the world melted away. I didn't want to just pass through college, collecting fleeting moments like pressed flowers; I wanted to feel everything—the dizzying highs, the aching lows, the full spectrum of a heart awakened. I wanted to fall in love, to let it sweep me up like a melody I couldn't resist.
I stood at the edge of the main road, my shoes crunching softly on the gravel, a faint, grounding sound beneath the symphony of the morning. Early sunlight filtered through a row of tall gulmohar trees, their fiery red blooms blazing against the endless blue sky, casting a warm glow that felt like a quiet blessing. A few students passed by, their voices hushed and sleepy, their laughter weaving seamlessly with the chirping of birds and the distant, melodic chime of bicycle bells. Ahead, the massive gates of the college campus loomed—sleek and modern, framed by manicured hedges that stood in perfect symmetry, guarded by stern security personnel whose presence only heightened the air of exclusivity. It was a sight that stirred both awe and anticipation, a threshold between the life I'd known and the one I longed to claim.
I inhaled slowly, letting the crisp morning air calm the flurry in my chest, a storm of nerves and dreams swirling just beneath my ribs. This was my moment, my beginning—
But then, a voice shattered the tranquility.
"Excuse me, sir… Excuse me…"
A boy's voice, hesitant but polite, drifted toward me, slicing through the stillness like a sudden note in a quiet song.
I turned, my eyes scanning for the source, curiosity prickling at the edges of my calm. There he was—his back to me, clad in the same uniform as mine. His grey blazer hung lazily over one shoulder, a casual defiance in the way it draped, while his white shirt bore faint wrinkles, as though he'd rushed through the morning. His black hair was just the right amount of messy, catching the morning light in soft glints that made it shimmer like silk. He stood there, a figure both ordinary and striking, and something about him made my breath hitch—a strange twist of familiarity curling in my stomach, faint yet insistent.
Do I know him? The thought flickered through my mind, a fleeting spark I quickly brushed aside. No, that couldn't be right. I was the only one from my junior college who'd made it into this elite institution—or so I'd believed. I'd poured everything into earning my spot here—every sleepless night, every tear shed over textbooks, every quiet victory. There was no way someone from my past—
My eyes lingered on him, drawn despite myself. His shoulders were slumped, his posture heavy with an almost palpable gloom, as if an unseen burden pressed down on him, dimming the light he seemed to carry. My heart gave a reluctant twinge, a pang of empathy I hadn't expected. Is he lost? I bit my lip, torn between walking away and stepping in. This was supposed to be my grand new beginning—a clean slate, a fresh canvas. Did I really want to start it by getting tangled up with a stranger?
But then, a spark of resolve flared within me, bright and unyielding. No. I couldn't launch my college life by ignoring someone who might need help—not if I wanted to be the heroine I'd promised myself I'd become, someone brave and kind, not cold and distant.
Taking a deep breath, I started toward him, my sneakers scuffing softly against the pavement, a faint echo swallowed by the rustling leaves overhead. "Hey," I called gently, my voice barely carrying over the natural symphony around us, tentative yet sincere. He didn't turn, so I tried again, a nervous edge creeping into my tone. "You seem like you might be in a bit of trouble. Can I help you with something? Maybe you're lost or—"
He turned, and the world stopped.
My breath hitched, my feet rooting to the ground as if the earth itself had anchored me in place. His face—pale, almost ethereal skin that glowed faintly in the morning light, deep brown eyes that held a galaxy of unspoken stories, and sharp, sculpted features that belonged on a movie poster—was achingly familiar. His black hair, slightly tousled, fell across his forehead in a way that was infuriatingly perfect, framing a visage that seemed crafted by an artist's hand. He was tall, lean, and devastatingly handsome, like a character ripped from the pages of a romance novel I'd once lost myself in. But it wasn't just his looks that hit me like a tidal wave—it was the recognition, sharp and searing, of a past I'd tried to bury, a wound I thought had healed.
"Nisha?" His voice, smooth and warm like honeyed tea, sent a shiver racing down my spine, stirring memories I'd locked away in the deepest corners of my heart.
"Dev?!" My voice came out sharper than I intended, his name a near-shout, laced with disbelief and a spark of frustration that flared like a struck match. Why him? Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be Dev Jaiswal? My heart sank, memories flooding back like a storm I couldn't outrun—vivid, relentless, and edged with pain. We'd gone to the same junior college, where he'd been the infamous problem child—brilliant grades that came effortlessly, a devil-may-care attitude that drew people in like moths to a flame, and a charm that could melt glaciers. And me? I'd been the fool who'd fallen for him, hard and fast, my heart a fragile thing he'd crushed in the most humiliating way possible. He'd left me to pick up the pieces of my pride, vowing to erase him from my life forever. Yet here he was, standing before me, as real as the ache in my chest.
"Um, could you maybe show me the way to the college building?" he asked, his tone light but tinged with a faux innocence that didn't quite reach his eyes. A faint smirk played at the corner of his lips, and I hated how it made my stomach flip, a traitor to the resolve I'd built.
"Huh?" I blinked, his words pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts, the past and present colliding in a dizzying whirl.
"Can't you?" he pressed, tilting his head and widening his eyes into that infuriating puppy-dog look I remembered all too well. Those eyes—deep and soulful, framed by lashes that had no right to be so long—had once been my weakness, disarming me with a single glance. Not anymore, I told myself, steeling my heart against the pull of memory.
No. I am not falling for this again. I clenched my jaw, willing my heart to stay steady, to ignore the echo of old feelings. But that hint of gloom I'd noticed earlier—the way his shoulders sagged, the quiet vulnerability in his posture—tugged at something deep inside me, a thread of compassion I couldn't sever, despite my better judgment.
"I'm only helping because you look pathetic," I muttered under my breath, barely audible, a concession to my own reluctant kindness. Louder, I sighed, "Fine. I'll show you the way." The words were clipped, but beneath them lay a tangle of emotions—resentment, wariness, and a flicker of something softer I refused to name.
His face lit up with a grin that was far too bright, far too disarming, like sunlight breaking through a clouded sky. "Thank you so much! You're a lifesaver, Nisha!" he exclaimed, falling into step beside me as if we were old friends picking up where we'd left off, not two souls bound by a fractured past.
This is not how my college life was supposed to start. I groaned inwardly, my shoulders slumping as I led the way down the tree-lined path, the weight of his presence settling over me like an unwelcome shadow. The breeze danced through the leaves overhead, carrying the sweet, heady scent of blooming flowers that lined the way. Sunlight filtered through the branches, painting the ground with golden patches that shifted with every gust, a fleeting beauty that felt at odds with the turmoil in my heart. It was a morning made for new beginnings, yet Dev's nearness threatened to drag me back into the chapters I'd closed.
"What's with that sigh?" he asked, casting me a sidelong glance, his lips curving into a teasing smile that was all too familiar, stirring embers I thought had long gone cold. I hated how it made my cheeks warm, how it slipped past my defenses.
"It's nothing," I snapped, a little too quickly, crossing my arms as we walked, a shield against the vulnerability I refused to show.
"You're like an angel sent to rescue me," he said dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like some swooning hero from a cheesy romance flick. "My knight in shining armor." His voice dripped with mock sincerity, a playful lilt that danced on the edge of sincerity.
"Oh, please," I scoffed, rolling my eyes to hide the flush creeping up my neck, a heat I couldn't fully suppress. "Don't get carried away," I added, though a faint flicker of amusement tugged at me, unbidden.
He laughed—a rich, melodic sound that was annoyingly pleasant, like a song I couldn't help but hum along to despite myself. "I'm not mocking you… okay, maybe just a little," he admitted, his grin turning mischievous, a spark of playfulness lighting his eyes.
I shot him a glare, but it only made his smile widen, as if my irritation fueled his delight. We continued down the path, the college's grand architecture emerging before us—sleek buildings of glass and stone, their modern lines softened by climbing vines that wove through them like nature's embrace. Manicured lawns stretched out, vibrant and inviting, while the distant chatter of students grew louder, a lively hum that spoke of a world far bigger than the one I'd left behind.
Dev kept talking, his voice a constant stream of commentary—marveling at the campus's sprawling layout, grumbling about the confusing map, tossing in random remarks about the weather and the students passing by. I responded with half-hearted murmurs—"yeah," "right," "really"—my mind too tangled in the surreal reality of his presence to fully engage, each word a thread pulling me deeper into the past I'd fled.
Then, out of nowhere, he said something that made me stop in my tracks.
"I didn't know you got into the same college as me, Nisha."
His voice was softer now, almost thoughtful, drifting from just behind me as if he'd slowed to gauge my reaction. It was a quiet observation, yet it struck me like a chord, resonating with a mix of irritation and something I refused to name.
"Yeah… I guess so," I replied quietly, keeping my eyes fixed on the path ahead, unwilling to let him see the storm within. My voice was steady, but inside, emotions churned—shock at his presence, frustration at our shared history, and a tiny, unwelcome flicker of curiosity about what he'd been up to since we'd last spoken.
He quickened his pace to catch up, a light hum escaping his lips as he fell back into step beside me. "You know," he said, his tone light but laced with something deeper, "watch us end up in the same class too. Wouldn't that be something?" There was a hint of challenge in his words, a playful dare that made my stomach twist.
I forced a tight smile, but internally, I was screaming. That would be a disaster. The last thing I needed was Dev Jaiswal haunting my every lecture, his stupidly charming grin threatening to unravel the new life I was trying to build, a life I'd fought so hard to claim.
As we neared the college gate—a sleek, modern archway that stood as a gateway to my future, flanked by security personnel whose stern gazes only heightened its grandeur—I slowed my pace. "Let's walk separately from here," I said, my voice firm as I avoided his gaze, a boundary I needed to draw.
"Oh… okay," he replied, a trace of disappointment flickering in his tone, a shadow across the brightness he'd carried. His eyes lingered on me for a moment, searching, but I didn't meet them, couldn't risk the pull I might find there.
Without another word, we parted ways. I veered onto the side lane leading to the entrance, my steps deliberate, each one a quiet declaration of my intent to move forward. Pausing before the gate, I took a deep breath, letting the moment settle over me like a gentle tide. The structure loomed ahead, majestic and modern, a portal to a new world—prestigious, brimming with possibility, a canvas for the story I would write.
My heart steadied, a quiet confidence blooming within me, warm and sure. I wasn't that girl from junior college anymore—the one who'd faltered, who'd hurt. This was my story, my chapter, and I would shape it with my own hands.
"Here I come, new life," I whispered, a small smile tugging at my lips as I stepped forward, blissfully unaware of the tangled web of emotions, joys, heartbreaks, and surprises waiting just beyond the gate. But whatever lay ahead, I was ready—ready to embrace it all, to live the tale I'd always longed to tell.