Author pov:🪴🪴🪴________________

Aarav’s 16th Birthday :🍁🍁🍁_________________________

It was a sultry summer evening steeped in glamour and gold. The Oberoi mansion shimmered like a dream. Chandeliers glistened from tall gazebos, fairy lights spilled like liquid stars across the lawn, and laughter floated in the air like perfume.

It was Aarav Oberoi’s 17th birthday—and the world had come to celebrate.

Every teenager from Delhi’s elite circles had shown up. The lawn was flooded with designer dresses, tailored suits, iPhones flashing selfies, and the scent of imported cologne.

Meera stood at the edge of it all.

She wore a simple faded salwar-kameez that clung uncomfortably to her skin in the humid air. A silver tray balanced on her trembling hands, filled with sparkling drinks she’d never tasted.

To them, she was invisible.

Until she wasn’t.

Across the crowd, her eyes found him.

Aarav.

He looked every bit the prince tonight—tall, charming, dressed in a midnight blue tuxedo that made the other boys fade beside him. His laughter was louder than the music, his smile magnetic, and his arm was draped around none other than Aanya Sharma,the minister’s daughter—elegant, smug, perfectly aware that all eyes were on them.

And then Aarav saw her.

Their gazes met. For a flicker of a second, something passed between them. Recognition. Memory.

Then… mockery.

He leaned toward his friends, whispering.

They laughed.

He called out, loud enough to pierce the music, “Meera! Hey, you! Maid girl!”

She stiffened. Heads turned. Conversations paused.

Slowly, she walked over, praying her hands wouldn’t shake. “Yes… Aarav sir?”

He plucked a glass from her tray, took a sip, and made a face. “Ugh. Is this warm? Are you trying to poison me?”

The crowd chuckled. Aanya smirked.

“No, sir, I—”

“Shh. Don’t argue,” he said mockingly. “You’re not here to talk. You’re here to serve.”

She bit her lip and nodded.

“Actually, you know what?” Aarav turned to the crowd, now enjoying the spectacle. “Let’s make this night even more fun. Do you guys wanna hear a fun fact?”

Some laughed. Others leaned in.

“This girl,” he said, pointing at her like an object, “used to follow me around like a lost puppy when we were kids. Always wanted to play. Couldn’t take a hint.”

More laughter.

“And once,” he added with a crooked smile, “she cried because I left her during hide-and-seek. Can you believe it?”

“Aww,” someone mocked.

“She was like, what, ten?” Aanya asked, rolling her eyes.

“No. Fourteen,” Aarav said. “Still pathetic.”

The laughter grew louder. Meera’s eyes stung, but she said nothing.

“Oh, and remember that time,” Aarav continued cruelly, “you tried to give me a birthday card? Handmade. With crayons. What was it—‘You are my bestest friend forever, Aarav’?” He mimicked a child’s voice.

Someone snorted, “Seriously? That's embarrassing.”

“I threw it away,” Aarav added, eyes locked on her. “It smelled like kerosene and sadness.”

Meera’s throat closed up.

He looked down at her. “You still think you're part of this world, Meera?”

But Aarav wasn’t done.

He walked up to her, still grinning, but his eyes glittered with something unreadable. “Tell me, Meera,” he said loudly, “do you enjoy watching these parties you’re not part of?”

Meera opened her mouth to reply—she didn’t know what she’d say—but before she could speak, he stepped closer.

Too close.

And then, with no warning—

He shoved her.

A stunned silence fell over the garden as she stumbled backward, flailing.

SPLASH.

The pool swallowed her whole.

Gasps. Laughter. A few cell phones lifted to record.

When Meera surfaced, sputtering, her soaked form clung desperately to the edge. Her braid was plastered against her face. Her clothes transparent. The cold cut through her bones, but the shame cut deeper.

Someone shouted, “Looks like the entertainment arrived!”

Another boy laughed, “She’s just cooling down the party!”

“Does the maid know how to swim?” a girl mocked.

Aarav stood at the edge, sipping his drink, smirking.

“Next time,” he said, voice sharp and biting, “try not to embarrass yourself in front of actual humans.”

She tried to pull herself up, but slipped once, then again.

A servant stepped forward instinctively, but Aarav raised a hand. “Let her climb out herself. Or stay there. Maybe the chlorine will clean her up.”

Aanya whispered loudly, “This is why some people should stay in the kitchen.”

The laughter was merciless.

And still—Meera said nothing. her clothes weighing her down, every inch of her soaked in humiliation.

But her eyes…

Her eyes weren’t broken.

They burned.

She didn’t come up.

Meera sank like stone, the water closing over her. She struggled beneath the surface, panic clawing at her throat. Her lungs screamed.

She couldn’t swim.

She never learned.

The crowd leaned forward, uncertain. A few gasped. A few phones came out.

She didn’t surface.

She couldn’t swim.

Underneath the water, panic took over. Her limbs flailed. Her eyes burned. The silk of her soaked kurta tangled around her legs. She tried to scream, but only bubbles escaped.

Above, gasps turned to uneasy murmurs.

“She’s not coming up…”

“Wait, does she not know how to—?”

“Oh my God—”

Before Aarav go to save her ,A boy who is his friend . His name is Rudra. He moved.

He was already running, throwing off his shoes mid-stride. Without hesitation, he dived clean into the water.

A splash followed—a different one. Swift. Purposeful.

Underwater, through the blur of panic, Meera saw him.

Him.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist as Rudra pulled her up to the surface.

She burst out, coughing violently, hair clinging to her face, her body trembling.

“It’s okay,” Rudra said firmly, holding her steady. “I’ve got you.”

Rudra swam her to the shallow end and lifted her, carrying her bridal style, water cascading from both of them.

The crowd parted in stunned silence.

Her body was limp.

Her braid hung like a noose down his arm.

The first thing she saw was him.

Rudra.

Holding her. Saving her.

“Breathe,” he whispered, gripping her hand.

And somewhere behind them—Aarav watched it all.

His jaw was locked, fingers curled into fists at his side.

He felt something rise in his chest—rage, betrayal, and something ugly he couldn’t name.

Jealousy. Deep. Raw. Violent.

She looked so fragile in Rudra’s arms. And he hated that it wasn’t him she reached for.

She was holding onto Rudra.

Letting him help her.

Letting him be the one to rescue her.

The way she looked at him. Grateful. Trusting.

It made Aarav's jaw clench.

She had never looked at Aarav like that. Not since they were kids. Not since she used to believe every stupid promise he made under the mango tree.

Why did it bother him so much?

Why did it twist in his chest like jealousy?

A sharp, hot sting shot through Aarav’s chest, deep and unfamiliar.

Jealousy.

Rudra hoisted her up gently onto the side of the pool, lifting her by the waist like she weighed nothing. Then climbed out himself, water cascading off his soaked shirt.

The crowd parted slightly as they stood together—Rudra shielding Meera with his body as she coughed, humiliated, drenched, freezing.

He immediately pulled off his blazer, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“You alright?” he whispered, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face.

Meera nodded weakly, clutching the fabric.

That was when Aarav stepped forward, slow, deliberate. His face was unreadable—but his eyes? They burned.

“Well, that was dramatic,” he said, voice sharp and loud. “Was that your plan, Meera? Steal my party by drowning?”

“Shut up, Aarav,” Rudra snapped, turning to face him.

Aarav smirked. “What? I’m just asking. Everyone’s here for me, and suddenly the maid’s making a scene. Classic timing.”

“She could’ve died,” Rudra growled.

“But she didn’t.” Aarav's voice was cool, cutting. “Thanks to you, knight in soaking armor.”

He stepped closer, eyes locked on Meera now. “Tell me, Meera… Was that your way of getting attention? You always did like playing the victim.”

Meera flinched.

Rudra stood between them. “You need to back off.”

Aarav laughed, the sound hollow. “Funny. She never let me put my arms around her like that.”

That struck deep.

Meera’s cheeks flamed, this time not from the cold.

“Come,” Rudra said to her gently, “let’s get you dry.”

He led her away, a protective arm still around her shoulders.

He stepped forward.

“Wow,” he said loudly, voice thick with sarcasm. “Guess the maid wanted a fairytale. Could’ve just asked for a dress, not a rescue scene.”

The guests chuckled nervously.

Meera tried to sit up. Her face was pale, lips trembling. She clutched Rudra’s coat around her body like armor.

“Let’s get you inside,” Rudra murmured.

But Aarav took a step closer.

“She doesn’t belong inside,” he snapped. “This is my party. Not a charity function.”

“Aarav!” Rudra’s voice cut through the air.

But Aarav didn’t stop. He was unraveling.

“She should be grateful,” he said, eyes locked on Meera now. “She got the best seat in the house. Front row in my pool. Wearing my attention like it’s her size.”

Meera stared at him—wounded, dripping, silent.

He hated the way her eyes still searched him like she wanted to understand. Like she still remembered who he used to be.

And he hated even more that Rudra was the one beside her now.

Aarav’s fingers curled into fists.

He didn’t even know what he was feeling anymore.

Anger?

Possession?

Guilt?

It didn't matter.

All he knew was that he hated seeing her like that with someone else. Especially Rudra.

The party had ended :🪷🪷🪷_________________________

The laughter, the lights, the champagne—they were all gone. All that remained was silence. Heavy, bruising silence.

Meera sat on the edge of her cot in the servants' quarters, a towel wrapped around her damp body and she clutching Rudra’s blazer tightly around her.

Her soaked clothes hung from a wire above, dripping into a tin bucket below.

She hadn’t spoken a word since Rudra left.

Her fingers still clutched the edge of his coat, folded beside her like it had protected her from more than just the cold.

She stared ahead blankly, the humiliation of the evening playing again and again in her mind like a cruel movie reel.

“She’s not a guest.”

“She wanted a fairytale.”

“Wearing my attention like it’s her size.”

Each word hit like a slap.

Her heart cracked silently. Not just from the insults. But because the boy she’d once adored—the boy who used to hold her hand when thunder frightened her—was gone.

She stared at the tiny diya flickering in front of her.

“Didn’t your mother teach you how to stand properly?”

The words stabbed again and again.

She remembered her mother’s hands braiding her hair. Her soft lullabies.

“You are no less, Meera,” her mother had once whispered. “No less than anyone in this world.”

But tonight… Meera felt smaller than ever.

She buried her face in her hands. Hot tears soaked her palms.

But inside the tears was something else. A beginning.

A tiny flicker of something dangerous.

Resolve.

He had broken her.

And then—the door slammed open.

She jumped.

Aarav stood there, still in his party suit, hair a mess, breath shallow. His eyes were wild.

He stood in the doorway, breath heavy, anger radiating off him like heat.

She scrambled to sit straighter. “Aarav—sir—”

“Don’t call me sir,” he growled, stepping inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

He stared at her—dripping hair, red eyes, wrapped in Rudra’s blazer.

Something inside him snapped.

“You looked pathetic tonight,” he spat. “Crawling out of the pool like a beggar.”

She flinched.

"You made a scene. You ruined my party.”

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, and now Rudra’s your savior?” Aarav cut her off, pacing like a storm. “What was that? You looked at him like he was some… some hero.”

Meera blinked, confused. “He helped me. That’s all.”

“And you just let him? Let him touch you? Wrap his blazer around you like you were—”

“Like I was cold!” she cried, standing suddenly. “Because I was! Because you pushed me into a pool and made the whole world laugh!”

He stared at her, breathing fast.

“You had no right,” she whispered. “No right to humiliate me like that.”

“You don’t belong in my world!” he shouted.

Silence.

His fists clenched at his sides. His jaw twitched.

“I… I didn’t mean to push you that hard,” he mumbled after a long pause. “But you—You make me…”

“Make you what?” she asked bitterly. “Feel something?”

He didn’t answer. He saw the jacket and snapped “Take that off. You look pathetic in someone else’s clothes.”

She blinked. “What—?”

“I said take it off!” he barked. “Do you even realize how disgusting it is to wear another guy’s jacket like you’re—like you’re someone?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you care?”

“Because you don’t belong to him!” he shouted.

Silence thundered between them.

Meera stepped closer, her voice trembling but sharp. “But I don’t belong to you either, do I?”

His lips parted, stunned.

She went on, fire in her chest.

“You think he cares about you?” Aarav hissed. “He’s just playing the nice guy. He’ll leave. They all do.”

“Then let him,” she said. “At least he didn’t throw me into a pool to entertain his friends.”

He stepped closer, too close. “Don’t act like you're innocent. You loved the attention. You always do.”

Her voice cracked. “I loved you, once.”

That made him freeze.

Meera’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You were kind, once. You smiled at me like I mattered. Now you just… destroy me every chance you get.”

e before he became… this.”

Silence.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” he barked.“You just had to make a scene, didn’t you , there ?” stepping closer. “And what did you do? You let him touch you. Let him carry you like some damsel.”

“I was drowning, Aarav,” she said, voice shaking. “I couldn’t breathe.”

“And now you’re breathing just fine with Rudra, huh?” His voice was acidic.

Her eyes widened. “Are you… jealous?”

He laughed. Bitter. Hollow. “Jealous? Of you? Of him? Don’t flatter yourself.”

He walked up so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body, his jaw clenched.

“You’ve always been good at this, haven’t you?” he whispered. “Looking helpless. Earning pity. Making everyone think you're fragile and pure.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” she whispered.

“But you didn’t stop it either!” he shouted. “You looked at him like he was your savior. You wore his jacket like it belonged to you.”

“Because I had nothing else!” she snapped, rising from the bed, voice trembling with pain. “You pushed me. You laughed when I was drowning. And now you’re angry because someone else pulled me out?”

Aarav’s mouth opened. But no words came.

He looked… stunned.

“You humiliated me,” she said. “In front of everyone. You enjoyed it.”

He turned away, his breathing uneven.

“I didn’t mean to…” he muttered.

She blinked. “What?”

“I said I didn’t mean to—” He turned around, fists shaking. “I didn’t want to… it just… when I saw him with you, it made me—”

He stopped himself.

His voice softened, just for a second.

“I didn’t like it.”

The confession dropped like a stone in the room.

Meera’s lips parted, unsure what to say.

He looked at her like she was a storm and he didn’t know whether he wanted to run or drown in it.

But the moment passed.

And the walls went up again.

“You know what?” he said coldly, stepping back. “Forget it. You’re not worth the mess.”

He turned to leave.

“You’re the one who’s drowning, Aarav,” she said quietly.

He paused.

“You just don’t know it yet.”

And then—he was gone.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Leaving her alone. Shivering.

___________🌿🌿🌿_________

Please give this chapter like..your one like and comment motivate me to write more.if you don't want to like at last comment and let me know what do you feel about this story and this chapter...