Burning in silence

Three Days Later…

It had been three whole days since Dad and his brand-new wife left for their honeymoon. And honestly? I kinda missed him. I had never been away from him before—he literally took me on all his business trips like I was his tiny, overpacked carry-on. But this time? Yeah, this time, crashing his trip was absolutely out of the question. I mean, come on—it's their honeymoon! Even I have some self-respect. If I were five years old, maybe I could've pulled it off, but at eighteen, I know my boundaries. And, more importantly, I know when to stay very, very far away.

That being said, Dad still religiously video calls me every morning and night before bed. And every time I see his ridiculously happy, newly-married face, I get this weird sense of peace—like, okay, maybe this whole wedding disaster was worth it… at least for him.

The past three days had been pretty uneventful. Aaliyah, as expected, had been out partying with her friends 24/7. She invited me to come along way too many times, but… **lazy me—**I just don't see the appeal.

I mean, what's so exciting about standing in a crowded, sweaty club, screaming over loud music, and paying way too much for a drink that tastes like disappointment? Or worse—wasting time on pointless gossip and shallow dating, where everyone pretends to care but actually doesn't? Maybe that's fun for some people, but for me? Hard pass.

You can call me an old soul—or just someone with common sense—because I'd much rather be curled up in my bed, wrapped in a burrito of blankets, reading a good book. The world can dance, party, and make terrible life choices. I'll be here, living my best lazy life.

And like I said before… I am lazy. Deal with it.

---

And Now, If We Talk About Rakshit…

He Was Back to Normal…

After that night, we didn't have to deal with any more… let's call them awkward moments. Thank God.

He spent all his time locked up in his room, only emerging when absolutely necessary—like some rare, endangered species that only comes out for food and urgent matters. Post-college hours? His room. Weekends? His room. If someone ever made a missing person poster for him, they'd just need to check behind that door.

Honestly, though, what does this guy even do in there all day?

Not that I should be asking—coming from someone who treats their own room like a personal kingdom of solitude. But hey, I have my reasons! What's his excuse?

Maybe he's studying… what else could it be? Despite being annoyingly playful at times, one thing is undeniable—this guy is a topper. No matter what, he never compromises when it comes to academics.

So far, everything was going smoothly—no oops moments yet.

---

"Radhya, Did You Make the Popcorn?"

Aaliyah, standing there in her cozy night pajamas, narrowed her eyes at me. She tapped her foot against the floor in that unmistakable you-better-have-done-it tone.

It was a Saturday night, and she had planned the perfect horror movie binge on Netflix. Weekend movie nights hit differently— no stress about waking up early for college, no responsibilities, just pure, unadulterated laziness. The kind where you wake up at noon with zero regrets.

She had already set up everything—fries, cold drinks, the whole deal. Our living room was transformed into a cozy movie den, with two mattresses spread out on the floor, blankets ready. The plan was to sleep here after the movie. Totally for bonding time, of course.

And definitely not because neither of us wanted to sleep alone after scaring ourselves silly. Let's be real—who voluntarily sleeps alone after a horror movie? We were human, not superheroes, right?

"Sorry, baby, I forgot…" I said, almost putting on my best puppy-face. "But I'll make it right now!"

I scrambled to make amends. Aaliyah had done all the work; my one job was to make popcorn, and I'd somehow managed to forget even that.

"Silly girl," she scolded in a dramatic, half-serious way.

I quickly pulled out three packets of instant popcorn, tossed them into the microwave, and waited for them to pop. As soon as they were ready, we were all set for our not-so-relaxing horror movie night.

But just as we were about to hit play—

DING DONG!

The doorbell rang, snapping us out of our movie mode.

"Who could it be at this hour?" Aaliyah and I exchanged confused glances, silently asking each other the same question.

Before either of us could react, a sudden, unnecessarily loud voice shattered the moment—

"I'LL GET IT!"

Enter Rakshit.

A guy who, up until this very moment, had been nowhere in the scene. I had no idea which dark corner of his room he had been hiding in, but now, out of nowhere, he had decided to emerge—like some invisible ghost who had just been summoned.

And the way he rushed to open the door? As if he already knew who was standing outside.

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

"Hi," a red-haired girl greeted softly.

She stepped forward and wrapped Rakshit in a casual side hug.

The moment I saw her, my heart clenched.

It was her.

The same girl I had seen kissing Rakshit at that party.

But what was she doing here? In my house?

Who had invited her? Rakshit?

My gaze instinctively shifted from her—to him. The one who looked innocent but was anything but.

Rakshit, who had been comfortably holding her in his arms just moments ago, suddenly seemed to register my stare. Almost as if caught in the act, he hesitated, putting some distance between them. His voice, when he spoke, was soft, almost a whisper—

"Uh... I thought... I could have my date here at home."

His words hung in the air like an unfinished thought before he quickly added, as if justifying himself,

"I mean, I couldn't just leave you two girls alone at home, right? So, the best option was for Riya to come over instead."

Riya. So that was her name.

"Hey there," she said finally, flashing a small, obligatory smile at Aaliyah and me.

But I wasn't blind.

Her eyes held zero interest in us. And frankly, the feeling was mutual.

"You guys don't have a problem with this, right?" Rakshit asked hesitantly, his gaze lowering to the floor as if he already knew the answer.

Oh, so now he cared about our opinion?

Something burned inside me.

It was jealousy.

A raw, aching jealousy that clawed at my insides.

Because deep down, no matter how much I denied it,

I wanted to be in her place.

I should be the one in his arms.

And when the fire was gone, all that remained…

was ash.