The One I Denied, The One I Can't Lose

Delhi University's annual fest was a grand affair, buzzing with energy. Colourful stalls lined the campus, selling everything from steaming plates of momos to intricate handmade jewelry. Laughter and music filled the crisp winter air as students excitedly moved between performances, competitions, and food stalls.

Shayari Chatterjee walked gracefully through the lively crowd, her long, wavy black hair cascading over her shoulder, the soft rustling of her cotton saree adding to her elegance. While most girls her age opted for modern outfits, she carried her Bengali roots with pride-elegance and tradition woven seamlessly into her personality.

Her friend Sanya sighed dramatically beside her, linking arms as they walked.

"You're so perfect, Shayari. Beauty, brains, talent-God was clearly showing off when He made you."

Shayari laughed lightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Stop exaggerating."

Sanya rolled her eyes. "I mean it! You're topping in academics, you sing like an angel, dance like a dream, and on top of that, you're nice. If I didn't love you, I'd probably be jealous."

Before Shayari could respond, an excited buzz spread across the campus.

"The Randhawas are here!" someone whispered.

Shayari's heart stuttered.

The Randhawas?

And before she could prepare herself, there he was.

Ranveer Singh Randhawa.

He walked in beside Naveen Singh Randhawa, his father, looking every bit the man who knew the world belonged to him.

Dressed sharply in a crisp white shirt with a few buttons undone, a blazer tucked lazily over his arm, Ranveer commanded attention effortlessly. He didn't need to speak, didn't need to smile-his sheer presence was enough. The aura of power, arrogance, and effortless charm surrounded him like a second skin.

Girls whispered, some openly admiring him. Some stared, others blushed.

But Shayari? She froze.

It had been a few weeks since his birthday. A few weeks since she had mustered up all her courage to wish him, only to be dismissed like she didn't exist.

She had promised herself she wouldn't let it affect her. Not anymore.

And yet, here she was, clutching the folds of her saree like a fool, heart racing for the man who had never spared her a second glance.

She quickly turned away.

No.

She would not let him affect her anymore.

The auditorium was packed. The event had been grand so far, but the real highlight was about to begin-the award ceremony.

Shayari sat among the other nominees, her fingers unconsciously twisting the edge of her saree.

And then, the moment arrived.

The stage lights bathed Shayari in a golden glow as the crowd erupted in applause.

"And the Best Student of the Year award goes to... Shayari Chatterjee!"

The auditorium shook with cheers as Shayari gracefully walked up the stage, her head held high. This was an award that honored not just her academic excellence but also her unmatched talent in music and dance.

It was her moment.

She climbed the stage, her eyes searching for the person presenting the award-and her breath caught in her throat.