???? ???

(his pov)

I woke up with a pounding headache like someone had been playing the drums in my skull all night.

The morning light seeped through the curtains, and I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head.

Moving here felt like an extended bad dream-quiet, yet unbearably noisy in all the wrong ways.

It had been a week since we moved from the chaos of Mumbai to this sleepy little city. My parents' jobs were the reason, as always. Their postings kept us bouncing from one corner of the country to another. Not that this place was terrible-it just wasn't Mumbai.

Instead of the comforting cacophony of honking cars and bustling streets, I now woke up to the sharp, jarring arguments of our next-door neighbours. Small-town life had its own version of noise pollution.

"Kabiiiiiiiirrrrrrrr" my mom's voice rang out, cutting through the fog in my head like a knife. Before I could respond, there was a loud knock on my door.

"Come here immediately!" she said, her voice dripping with mock urgency.

"Coming," I muttered, dragging myself out of bed.

As I trudged outside, I heard Mom's voice before I even reached the landing. She was in full-on lecture mode, which wasn't unusual but felt particularly grating today.

"Kabir, your father and I have to head to the site for some important work. We'll probably be back late tonight," she said, already looking rushed.

I nodded, barely listening. But then she gave me that look-the one that meant she wasn't finished.

"Don't mess around, okay? Be a good kid."

"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"I know, but I still have to remind you. This is a new place, Kabir. It's completely different from Mumbai."

She wasn't wrong. But I hated being reminded of how alien everything felt here.

"Fine," I said, slumping onto the couch.

"And don't forget, when we get back, we'll need to talk about enrolling you in your new school," she added.

That hit like a punch to the gut. I nodded, my jaw tightening. This would be the fifth school in as many years. At first, switching schools had been painful-the goodbyes, the ripped-up roots, the feeling of starting over. Now, I was numb to it. No attachments, no expectations, no point in trying to make friends or memories.

Mom kissed the top of my head before leaving. "Take care, okay? And don't forget your medicine."

As the door clicked shut behind her, the silence of the house grew louder. I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. Another city, another school, another cycle of pretending like I belonged.