Chapter 7: "Tuned Strings, Unspoken Things"

Scene: Inside the college's abandoned music room. Dusty instruments, a grand piano with faded keys, and a wall covered in notes and lyrics from years past. Maya enters with a notebook, Aryan already sitting near the piano, humming something.

MAYA

You're early. Again.

ARYAN

You're late. Again.

MAYA (grinning)

Touché.

ARYAN (nodding at her notebook)

You bring the good stuff?

MAYA (opening the pages carefully)

I don't know if it's good. But it's honest.

ARYAN (softly)

Honest always works.

She places the notebook between them. There's a page titled: "Unwritten Wounds." Aryan reads silently. His fingers instinctively press a chord on the piano. G minor.

ARYAN

You wrote this when you were sad.

MAYA

When I thought the world couldn't see me.

ARYAN

I see you.

They exchange a glance that lingers too long, charged yet silent. Aryan begins playing a soft melody that matches her words. He hums the chorus, shaping her lyrics into sound.

ARYAN (singing softly):

🎵 "I smile like glass beneath the sun, But inside I come undone. You touch the silence in my screams, And write your name between my dreams." 🎵

MAYA (quietly)

That's not how I wrote it.

ARYAN

I know. But that's how I heard it.

Scene transitions to an off-campus coffee shop. The Phoenix Sons are seated around a small round table, still sweaty from rehearsal.

ZAYN

Yo Aryan, spill it. You ghosted us for three hours. Again.

RICO (mock serious)We thought you got kidnapped by a group of poetic literature majors.

ARYAN (dryly)

Worse. I got co-written into a song about emotional breakdowns.

DEV (raising brows)

Maya again?

ARYAN (avoiding the gaze)

She's got something. Real emotion. Raw lines. Like Rehaan used to.

ZAYN (tone sharpens)

Don't forget why you're here, Aryan.

ARYAN

I haven't.

ZAYN (softer)

Then don't let her become more than a mission.

RICO

Wait. You're on a mission?

ZAYN (bluntly)

Family drama. Long story. Stay out.

Scene: Flashback to Aryan's childhood. Rehaan is lying on the couch, softly humming an Urdu ghazal as young Aryan watches. The scene is warm, peaceful.

REHAAN

Songs carry pain better than anger. Remember that, Aryan.

YOUNG ARYAN

Can I write one about Mama yelling at Baba?

REHAAN (laughing)

Absolutely. But use metaphors. Mama might be listening.

Back in present: Aryan smiles to himself at the memory. But his phone buzzes. A message from Zayn.

ZAYN (text):

Don't forget the wedding that never happened.

His smile fades.

Scene shifts: Maya is in the library, coughing lightly as she organizes her lyrics. Her hand briefly presses to her chest. She fumbles in her bag and discreetly takes a small blue pill. She looks around. No one sees. She sighs in relief.

Aryan arrives moments later, guitar on his back.

ARYAN

Hey. Sorry I'm late.

MAYA (softly)

It's okay. I was just... organizing.

ARYAN (noticing her paleness)

You sure you're alright?

MAYA (smiling but deflecting)

Just didn't sleep well. Too many lyrics in my head.

ARYAN

Good. That means the album's half done.

They sit. He strums. She writes. Their connection grows word by word, chord by chord.

Later that night, Aryan walks Maya home. A quiet path under amber streetlights. Autumn leaves scatter around them.

MAYA

Do you believe people meet for a reason?

ARYAN

No. I believe we make our own reasons.

MAYA (smiling)

I think I needed someone like you.

ARYAN (quietly)

And I think I didn't know I needed someone like you.

They stop outside her gate. She looks at him. A pause. Then she leans in, and their foreheads touch—brief, breathless.

MAYA (whispers)

Thanks for not laughing at my messy verses.

ARYAN

Thanks for rewriting the meaning of mine.

As she disappears inside, Aryan stands frozen. The mission echoes in his head. But so does the rhythm of her smile.

ARYAN (internal thought):

I was sent to break her. But what if she's fixing me instead?

Fade to black.