The mysterious box

Setting: Main hallway. First floor. Aahi walks alone up the wide staircase, her soft footsteps echoing against the marble. Her pastel outfit flows gently with her every step, her bag lightly swinging. Students still turn to look, whispering — half in admiration, half in curiosity.

At the top of the stairs, a boy was leaning casually against the rail, chewing gum, one earphone in, a faint smirk already on his lips.

Red.

He stepped forward.

> "Miss Star Entry," he said smoothly, falling into step beside her.

"Didn't think you'd show up without a spotlight."

Aahi sighed.

> "Red. What a... surprise."

> "I'm full of them," he winked. "Also, we're batchmates now. So… lucky you."

Aahi glanced at him.

> "So you're in Commerce too?"

> "Top of my class," he said dramatically. "In sarcasm and bad decisions."

She let out the tiniest laugh.

He grinned wider — that was what he wanted to hear.

But behind them…

Aarif stood further down the corridor, near the studio glass wall, eyes locked on them.

His gaze wasn't soft.

It was quiet. Sharp. A mix of curiosity… and something colder.

He watched as Red stepped just a little closer to Aahi —

And in that moment, Red saw him watching.

So what did he do?

> He casually reached out…

And placed one confident hand on Aahi's shoulder.

> "Let me show you the lockers," Red said lightly. "Before this place swallows you."

Aahi blinked, surprised by the gesture but didn't stop him.

He led her down the hallway.

Aarif's jaw tightened.

He turned away.

But the moment had already burned itself into memory.

> "So she's with him," he thought.

Even though…

She wasn't.

Not yet.

Locker hallway — quieter now. Only a few students passing by. Aahi and Red stand in front of her newly assigned locker. Red leans casually against the wall beside her, the rose still tucked behind his ear.

Aahi turned her lock slowly, organizing her books inside.

She was still thinking about the boy she bumped into — his eyes, the way he looked at her like she didn't belong here.

Red watched her closely.

> "You thinking about him?" he asked.

She glanced sideways.

> "Who?"

> "The guy you collided with back there," he said, voice coated with casual irritation.

"That's Aarif Khan. Star of the basketball team. Resident brooder. And currently pretending not to burn holes in my back with his eyes."

Aahi frowned softly.

> "He looked… serious."

Red scoffed.

> "He's always serious. Especially around people like me."

> "What do you mean?" she asked, closing her locker.

Red's voice lowered just enough.

> "He doesn't like me. Never did. Says it's my attitude… but let's be real — it's class."

> "Class?"

Red pushed off the wall, standing a little straighter.

> "He's middle class. Brilliant student. Scholarships, discipline, single mother. You know the type."

"Me? I wear what I want, speak how I want, and… I don't apologize for my name being attached to money."

Aahi's brow furrowed.

> "Maybe you're wrong. I don't think where someone comes from matters."

Red paused — just for a beat — and smiled slowly.

> "That's why you're different."

She didn't smile back.

Something about the way he said it… didn't sit right.

Red turned to her, his usual smirk softened — just a little.

> "Look, I know I come off... intense," he began, holding out a small dark wooden box, carved with elegant spirals and symbols Aahi didn't recognize.

> "What's that?" she asked, eyeing it curiously.

He turned the box slowly in his palm, then offered it to her.

> "A peace offering. For him."

> "Him?"

> "Aarif," Red said, glancing down the hall.

"We've never really gotten along. I've tried… but the guy always looks at me like I'm a villain in some silent film."

Aahi blinked.

> "So… why are you giving me this?"

Red gave a half-smile.

> "Because you're new. Sweet. And neutral. He might actually listen to you."

She hesitated, taking the box gently in her hands. It felt heavier than it looked… almost warm.

> "What's inside?"

> "Nothing dangerous," he said, almost too quickly.

"Just something symbolic. I figured… maybe if you gave it to him, he'd stop thinking I'm the devil."

Aahi glanced down at the box.

She didn't know Aarif.

She didn't know Red fully, either.

But her heart leaned toward kindness. Maybe… maybe they really just needed a little push toward friendship?

> "Okay," she said softly.

"I'll give it to him."

Red's smile returned — sharp, knowing, but hidden behind charm.

> "Thank you, Aahi. You're already making this place brighter."

As she tucked the box carefully into her bag, Red turned and walked off — hands in pockets, humming to himself.

But behind that hum… his mind raced.

> Let's see how Mr. Perfect handles this.