Not in the Script: An Ahaan & Aneet Collection

Start Of Something New

The lines rolled out like silk. Soft, sincere, real. She wasn't thinking about where her hands were, or whether she was hitting the right emotion, because she felt it.

When she said the final line, she didn't rush it. She let it hang. And this time, the silence after was alive. Buzzing. Hopeful.

Mohit leaned back in his chair. "Better," he said while smiling. "Much Better."

Her heart exploded. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling like a maniac.

She looked over, just briefly, toward Ahaan.

He was at the back of the room, one hand on the doorframe.

Not smug. Not teasing. Just wide and unguarded, like he'd known all along this would happen.

----

But even good auditions can't quiet a chaotic mind.

What if Mohit still didn't choose her? What if "better" wasn't enough to erase yesterday's disaster?

She was spiralling again. Ahaan noticed. 

"Come with me," he said, out of nowhere.

She blinked. "Where?"

But he was already walking, tossing her a look over his shoulder. Something about his stride made it impossible not to follow.

Twenty minutes later, she stood at the steps of Mount Mary Church. The night was hushed around them, air cool and salt-tinged from the sea below.

Aneet stared. "Why... here?"

He shrugged. "Whenever something feels out of my hands, I come here. Helps me breathe."

They climbed the steps in comfortable silence.

Inside, the church was cool and quiet. Candles lined the altar in neat rows, flickering softly.

He handed her one.

"Go on," he said. She looked at him. "What do I even say?"

"Doesn't matter. Just... speak it. Whatever's inside."

She lit the candle. Watched the flame catch.

And quietly whispered, "Please. Please let this be it."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The glow of dozens of candles painted his profile gold, softened the sharpness of his jaw. He looked almost unguarded, like this wasn't just for her but for him too.

----

They sat in his car for a while after, windows down, breeze soft against their faces.

The city was just out of reach, like background noise. She toyed with the ring on her index finger. "What did you wish for?"

"You don't have to tell me," She added quickly, trying to sound casual. "I know that's, like, sacred or whatever."

"Sacred?" He chuckled. "I lit a candle and prayed Aneet. I'm not joining monkhood."

She laughed, the first real one today.

Then he looked at her again, different this time. Slower. Warmer.

Then added, more softly, "Let's just say I wished for something that feels right."

She couldn't help it—she smiled again, tugged straight out of her chest. Silence stretched once more, but softer this time. Not heavy. Almost... charged.

She turned toward the window, heart thudding, wondering what he had really wished for.

----

One week later. Her phone rang.

Shanoo.

She almost cracked her phone with the speed she picked it up.

"Shanoo?" She answered, words tumbling in her head before she even spoke.

Shanoo chucked on the other side. Her heart hammered.

"Congratulations, Vaani Batra", she teased.

The room spun. Her vision blurred. She pressed a hand over her mouth, laughter breaking through the sob that wanted to come out.And then, without thinking, she dialed another number.

It rang once. Twice. Then—

"Hello?"

She was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. "Ahaan! I—oh my God, I got it. I got the role!"

He laughed, loud and warm and completely unfiltered.

"You remember what you asked me that day?"

She blinked through tears. "What?"

"What I wished for."

Her breath caught.

"Of course I wished you'd get it," he said. "How could I not?"

And somehow, it wasn't just the role that felt like the beginning.

It was this. Whatever this was.

Still unspoken. Still delicate.

But real.

And it already felt like fate.

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Hi everyone!

Okay, full disclosure: this might not be my finest literary moment...
You know when something sounds amazing in your head at 2 a.m., and then you write it, and it's like... "Wait, who let me cook?" Yeah. That.

Trying to write about a real event (that we only half-know) is HARD, okay? So yes, this chapter came out a little emotionally scrambled. A little overcooked. But we move. 

That said, I might rewrite this chapter someday when I'm feeling less dramatic and more competent. No promises, though.

Up next will be a KrishVaani fic inspired by a tweet I saw recently. 

Suggestions are always welcome.

Until next time!

Love and mild panic,

Author