CHAPTER - 12 ANXIETY

The two of them exited the bus. As soon as they stepped off the bus, Dhruv stretched his arms and took a deep breath, feeling the air of his hometown after so many years. The ground beneath his feet felt both familiar and foreign, like an old song he had forgotten the lyrics to.

(NOTE : A Grandma inside that bus was kind enough to give them money for tickets) 

Gorgo, on the other hand, dusted off his clothes dramatically, as if he had just returned from war. He glanced at Dhruv and asked, "So, where to go next? You have a plan, right? You can't waste these 90 days the god gave you."

Dhruv stood there for a moment, hands in his pockets, looking at the sky as if waiting for divine inspiration. He exhaled through his nose and muttered, "...Yeah, about that."

Gorgo's expression immediately dropped. "Don't tell me—"

Dhruv shrugged. "I might have... not exactly planned anything yet."

Gorgo facepalmed so hard that the sound echoed in the open street. "You got a second chance at life, and you didn't even THINK of a plan?! What do you mean 'not exactly'?! Is it a yes or a no?!"

 Dhruv kicked a small pebble on the road, deep in thought. He actually did have a place to go—a wedding, to be precise. But the real question was… should he even go there?

Gorgo, still recovering from Dhruv's ridiculous lack of planning, noticed his sudden silence. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Oi, you're making that 'I'm thinking about something but won't say it out loud' face. Spill it."

Dhruv sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "There's… a wedding happening. Someone I know is getting married."

Dhruv hesitated for a moment before answering. "…It's a friend's wedding."

Gorgo raised an eyebrow. "That's it? You're making it sound like some life-or-death decision, but it's just a friend's wedding? What's the big deal?"

Dhruv shrugged. "And I don't know if I should go or not."

Gorgo's jaw dropped. "You literally have a destination, and you're debating whether to go or not?! Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

Dhruv kicked another pebble. "It's complicated."

Gorgo groaned dramatically. "Oh, of course. Everything with you humans is always 'complicated.' Either go or don't. What's so hard about that?"

Dhruv exhaled. "It's not that simple. It's been years since I saw them, and I don't know how they'll react. I mean… do I just show up like, 'Hey, surprise! I'm not dead!'?"

Gorgo smirked. "Honestly? That would be hilarious."

Dhruv shot him a glare. "Not helping."

Dhruv frowned, deep in thought. "I guess… I just don't know if I still belong there."

Gorgo rolled his eyes. "Ugh, you're overthinking again. You could be stuffing your face with wedding food right now, but instead, you're standing here acting like a lost puppy."

Dhruv cracked a small smile. "You just want the food, don't you?"

Gorgo shrugged. "Not gonna lie, yes. But also, you clearly want to go. So stop being dramatic and let's crash this wedding already."

Dhruv exhaled and finally nodded. "Alright… Let's go."

Gorgo excitedly asked Dhruv. "So how will we go to the wedding? I never been to a human wedding..Do you have a bike, a car, or anything?"

Dhruv hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "Well... hahah...."

*Silence*

Dhruv awkwardly laughed, a strong gust of wind blew past them, ruffling their clothes and dramatically swaying the trees around them, as if nature itself was mocking their situation.

A lonely plastic bag tumbled across the road like a tumbleweed in a Western movie. A distant crow let out the most judgmental caw ever, as if laughing at their struggle.

A rusty cycle bell rang somewhere in the background, perfectly timed with their silence. Even an auto driver passing by slowed down, took one look at them, and sped off like he knew they were broke.

Gorgo blinked. "...Bro, did you just laugh like you have a solution when you literally have NOTHING?"

Dhruv scratched the back of his head. "Well… technically, we have our feet."

Another gust of wind hit them, and this time, a torn wedding invitation from the ground slapped Gorgo right in the face. He peeled it off slowly, his expression blank.

"So... we're walking?" Gorgo asked, deadpan.

Dhruv sighed, shoulders dropping. "We're walking."

The wind blew again, this time making a dried-up tree branch snap off and fall right between them like a final insult.

As soon as they reached their destination, both of them practically collapsed onto a nearby bench. Their legs felt like jelly, their backs were drenched in sweat, and Dhruv was pretty sure his soul was about to leave his body for the second time.

Gorgo hunched over, hands on his knees, panting like he had just run a marathon in hell itself. "Man… that was freaking long… I should have taken my Hell Bike instead of walking…" he wheezed.

Dhruv, still trying to catch his breath, blinked in confusion. "What did you just say?"

Gorgo wiped the sweat off his forehead. "I said I'm tired."

"No, no, not that… after that! What did you just say!?" Dhruv's voice sharpened.

A moment of silence.

Gorgo froze. His brain clicked. He realized that he had fucked up.

Dhruv's tired eyes slowly widened in realization. His body might have been exhausted, but his rage? Oh, it had just been recharged to full capacity.

"WHY—" Dhruv inhaled deeply, barely holding in his anger. "WHY DID YOU JUST… WHY?! We could have used your freaking HELL BIKE to get here instead of walking for THREE HOURS!!!"

Gorgo, now fully aware of his blunder, tried to play it off. "I-It's not like I can just summon it or anything…" He avoided eye contact, suddenly very interested in the ground.

Dhruv's nostrils flared. His eye twitched. He clenched his fists.

"You. Are. A. Freaking. DEMON, YOU IDIOT!!" he screamed, grabbing Gorgo by the collar and shaking him violently.

A pigeon nearby took off in fear. The wind that had been mocking them all day? It stopped blowing, probably in shock. Even the trees seemed to lean back, as if distancing themselves from the absolute stupidity that had just unfolded.

Gorgo dusted off his shirt, trying to regain whatever dignity he had left. He let out an exaggerated sigh, stretching his arms. "Well, whatever, right?" he said, shrugging like he hadn't just committed the biggest betrayal of the century.

Dhruv's eye twitched again. His entire being rejected this level of nonchalance. Whatever? WHATEVER!?

The three hours of unnecessary walking flashed before his eyes. The scorching sun, the blistering foot pain, the thirst, the occasional angry cows chasing them, and worst of all—THE DAMN MOCKING WIND.

Dhruv inhaled sharply, hands on his hips, and looked up at the sky as if asking the gods above, Why do I suffer like this?

"You… absolute dumbass," he muttered under his breath.

Meanwhile, Gorgo had already moved on, stretching like he had just woken up from a good nap. "Anyway, where's the wedding?" he asked, looking around casually.

Dhruv clenched his fists. This demon was really testing his patience.

Dhruv calmed himself a bit and said, "Here is the wedding."

He pointed his finger towards an auditorium.

Gorgo asked, "You are coming with me, right?"

Dhruv said with a smile, "Yaya, I will come with you in a bit. You go."

Gorgo squinted at Dhruv suspiciously. "You sure?"

Dhruv kept up his innocent smile, but deep down, he was already plotting his escape. "Of course, bro. You go ahead, enjoy the food, flirt with some girls if you want. I'll be right behind you."

Gorgo stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "Alright, don't take too long." He turned around and confidently walked toward the auditorium.

The moment Gorgo's back was fully turned—Dhruv took a step backward. Then another. Then another.

And then—he ran like his life depended on it.

Dhruv stood frozen at the entrance of the auditorium, his hand hovering over the door handle. The buzz of voices and music inside seemed to intensify with every breath he took. The laughter, the clinking of glasses, the soft hum of chatter—it all felt so distant, like he was hearing it from another world. A world he wasn't sure he belonged to anymore.

His feet felt heavy, like they were trapped in place, unwilling to move. Why am I even here? The question repeated in his mind like a mantra. His fingers gripped the door handle, but there was no strength to turn it. He wasn't ready to face the people on the other side. Not yet.

The memories began to flood him—moments he once cherished, faces he once knew like the back of his hand. But now, they all seemed so... foreign. So distant. He could almost see himself from the outside, a stranger standing at the edge of the life he once had. They won't recognize me. They'll see right through me. I've changed, I've become someone else.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to steady himself. It's just a wedding. Just a celebration. People are happy. I shouldn't be this nervous, this overwhelmed. But his body betrayed him. He could feel the knot in his stomach tightening, the uncertainty creeping in, like a cold wind making its way into his chest.

I can't do this.

His mind raced, unsure of the next step. He stood there, his heart pounding louder than the sounds of the party inside. His breath was shallow, his mind spinning in circles, unsure of what he was even looking for in this moment. Was he trying to find closure? Was he hoping for something to make all of this feel right again?

His hands slowly slid down the door, his grip loosening as his head lowered. He could hear the sounds of the wedding getting louder, and yet, it felt as if they were drifting farther away from him. What's the point? The thought lingered, like a cloud over his mind.

His feet were still planted, unmoving, caught in a battle between the desire to turn around and leave and the urge to walk inside and face whatever awaited him. The air outside was cool, but he couldn't shake the feeling of being suffocated. A familiar, aching weight pressed on his chest, reminding him that sometimes the hardest battles weren't fought with others, but with oneself.

He swallowed hard, his thoughts still tangled. Am I really ready to face them? To face all of this?

And there he stood—just on the edge. Not inside, not outside. Just... stuck.

The door before him felt like an insurmountable obstacle, like a boundary between two worlds—one that was warm and familiar, full of the faces he once loved, and another that was now cold, full of uncertainty. The thought of stepping inside felt like an invasion of his own self, a breach of everything he had kept locked away in his heart.

I've changed too much... The words echoed in his mind, heavy with the weight of all that had happened. The experiences, the pain, the loss—everything that had shaped him into someone different. Someone unrecognizable. He wasn't the carefree Dhruv that had once walked into a wedding with a smile, surrounded by his friends. That version of him felt so far gone now, lost in time.

A wave of panic surged through him. What if they look at me and don't see me at all? His throat tightened as if someone had grabbed it and was slowly squeezing. He tried to swallow, but the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. What if I'm invisible to them?

The door in front of him loomed larger, taller, more imposing. His hands trembled as he reached for it again, but this time, there was no strength behind his grip. His body had become a prison, each movement weighed down by the heaviness in his chest. The thought of stepping inside felt like an impossible task, as if he were about to walk into a room full of strangers, people who didn't know him anymore.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his racing heart. The world outside felt so overwhelming, so consuming. It was as if he was drowning in the pressure of expectations—his own, and the ones he thought others might have of him.

He breathed in deeply, his chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale. I can't... I just can't. The words echoed in his mind, louder now, as he felt the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Was it worth it? Was it worth facing all that uncertainty, all that discomfort?

The sounds of the wedding still echoed in the distance, a reminder that life was continuing on without him, moving forward with or without his participation. His eyes flickered back toward the door, but this time, they held a different kind of hesitation. It wasn't just fear—it was an overwhelming wave of self-doubt, the kind that made him feel small and insignificant.

With one last, reluctant glance at the door, Dhruv took a step back. His body felt heavy with the decision. He wasn't ready. Not today. Not yet.

Dhruv turned away from the door, a quiet, almost imperceptible motion that carried the weight of years of struggle. The thought of walking inside, of facing the people he once knew so well, was like trying to climb a mountain with no strength left in his limbs. His feet seemed to move of their own accord, stepping away from the door, from the light, and into the shadow of his own uncertainty.

The anxiety that had been gnawing at him like a constant companion now surged through his chest, tightening its grip with every step he took away from the wedding hall. His heart, though heavy, pounded in his ears, but there was something else beneath that—a quiet, undeniable relief. It wasn't victory. It wasn't triumph. It was simply the comfort of retreat, of stepping away from something that felt too vast, too overwhelming to confront in that moment.

As he walked away, the sounds of the wedding behind him began to fade. He could hear the faint hum of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the laughter—voices he once knew, faces that once felt like home. But now, it was all a blur, a distant echo. The world inside the hall felt like it belonged to a version of himself that was no longer there. That Dhruv, the one who could laugh and talk without hesitation, the one who could walk into a room and feel like he belonged, seemed like someone from another life.

He paused for a moment, his back to the door, and the reality of what he had just done started to settle in. The finality of it hit him like a punch to the gut. He had walked away from the possibility of reconnection, the chance to face his past and the people who had once been his world. And yet, there was no turning back now. It was like a door closing, one that he could never open again. The weight of his decision felt like an anchor, pulling him deeper into himself.

Why? Why couldn't I just go in? The question lingered in his mind, but the answer was elusive. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the fear of facing his own inadequacies, his own failures. Maybe it was the fear of being seen as someone different, someone who had changed so much that he no longer fit into the mold of who he once was. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fear of facing the people who might see him for what he had become—the broken version of himself that he had spent so long hiding from the world.

His legs felt heavy, each step pulling him further away from that place, from that part of his life. But as he walked, he couldn't help but notice the overwhelming emptiness of it all. The streets were quiet, the world around him moving on, indifferent to the storm raging inside his chest. He felt alone, not just physically, but in a deeper, more visceral sense. Like he was walking through a world that didn't quite make sense anymore.

He hadn't realized until that moment just how much of himself he had buried, how much of his past had been left unresolved. It wasn't just the wedding he had walked away from. It was everything—the relationships, the memories, the laughter and the tears. It was the life he had lived and the life he had yet to face.

As he continued to walk, the faces of his past began to blur, replaced by the haunting image of what might have been. He could still see their smiles, still hear their voices, but they felt so distant, like they belonged to someone else. The distance between him and them felt like a chasm, too wide to bridge, too deep to cross.

And then, there was Gorgo.

Dhruv hadn't even realized he had left without him. It wasn't intentional. It wasn't like he had made a conscious choice to leave Gorgo behind. But in the chaos of his own mind, in the storm of emotions and fears, it had simply happened. He had turned away from the wedding, from the people, and from everything he had once known. Gorgo, the only one who had stayed by his side, had been left in the dust.

I didn't even think about him. The thought hit him like a bolt of lightning. Gorgo, who had been through so much with him, who had witnessed his struggles and his doubts. And Dhruv had just walked away without a second thought.

He stopped in his tracks for a moment, standing still in the middle of the street, as if trying to process the weight of his own actions. Was that fair? Was it fair to drag Gorgo into his own confusion, only to abandon him when the going got tough?

But as quickly as the guilt washed over him, it faded into the background. There's nothing I can do about it now. The thought was cold, pragmatic, but it felt true. The damage was done. He had already made his choice. He had already walked away.

The sound of his footsteps was the only thing that broke the silence now. He couldn't go back. Not now. Not like this.

Dhruv sighed, a long, heavy breath, as the reality of his actions slowly settled in. What now? He didn't have an answer. He didn't have a plan. All he had was the emptiness in his chest, the silence of the world around him, and the knowledge that he had walked away from something he would never get back...

Dhruv's feet pounded against the pavement as he ran, his mind a whirlpool of confusion and regret. He wasn't sure where he was going—his body was just moving, propelled by some invisible force that he couldn't control. His heart raced, not just from the speed but from the flood of emotions that threatened to drown him. Anger. Guilt. Sadness. Fear.

Tears—he hadn't even realized they were there until they blurred his vision, hot and relentless. The first drop hit his cheek like a single, solitary echo of everything he couldn't say. And then there were more. His eyes stung, the tears streaming down his face faster than he could wipe them away. They were unstoppable now, like a dam that had finally given way.

He wasn't sure what he was running from anymore. Maybe it was the memories, the faces of people he used to care about, people who had once been his family, who had once called him their own. Or maybe it was the suffocating pressure of expectations—the weight of a life he didn't know how to live, a future he didn't know how to face.

But the tears kept coming, slipping down his face in quiet streams, a torrent he couldn't stop even if he tried. They weren't tears of joy, or relief. They were tears of loss, of regret. They were the tears of a person who had come to realize that the world he once knew was slipping through his fingers, that the choices he had made had led him to this point, this painful realization.

And yet, there was something strangely freeing about them. The tears didn't solve anything, didn't bring him any closer to understanding why he had done what he had done. But they felt real. They felt like a release, like a small acknowledgment that he was still human, still capable of feeling. Even in this mess of confusion and self-doubt, he could still cry. He could still feel. And maybe, just maybe, that meant he wasn't completely lost after all.

His breath hitched in his chest as he ran, each sob catching in his throat. He didn't care anymore who saw him, who witnessed this moment of weakness. He wasn't running from the people in that auditorium anymore. He was running from himself. Running from the version of Dhruv who had once believed he could avoid the mess of life, the version of him who had thought that running away from it all would somehow fix everything.

But the tears told a different story.

He was still broken. Still lost.

And maybe, just maybe, that was okay.

With each tear that fell, he felt a tiny bit lighter, a little closer to the truth he had been avoiding for so long. The truth that he wasn't perfect, that he didn't have all the answers, that he couldn't always control his emotions or his choices.

And in that moment, as the tears fell and his legs carried him away from everything he had known, Dhruv realized that maybe the first step to healing wasn't about running away anymore. Maybe it was about facing the pain, letting it wash over him, and learning to walk through it, one step at a time.

 -TO BE CONTINUED