Sparks And Sarcasm (Duet #2 paths crossed again)

The third day of the Singapore event dawned with the early hum of city life. Arya woke up to the soft buzzing of her phone, Veer already knocking lightly on her hotel suite door, holding two cups of coffee from the lobby downstairs.

"Rise and shine, Arya Malhotra," Veer grinned, already dressed in his quirky graphic blazer, jeans, and a camera bag slung across his shoulder.

Arya took her coffee with a soft groan. "If I didn't love you like a brother, I'd throw this coffee at your face."

"And waste good caffeine? Even you wouldn't commit that crime. Now hurry! Kritarth’s panel is in an hour, and you promised to be there."

She rolled her eyes, still wrapped in her fluffy robe. "Five minutes. You stall him if I’m late."

By the time Arya arrived at the venue, the panel hall was buzzing with excitement. Kritarth, charming and impossibly relaxed, was leaning against the side wall in his tan linen suit and a lopsided smile on his face. The moment he spotted Arya, he dramatically bowed.

"Ah, my world-famous sister graces us with her presence."

"Shut up and get on stage," Arya muttered, shoving him lightly as Veer stifled a laugh.

The panel went well. Kritarth, with his usual mix of humour and insight, kept the audience entertained. Arya sat with Veer, Maya, and Nikhil in the front row, occasionally catching Ishaan’s eye across the hall. The tension between them was still thick—less hostile, more... uncertain.

Post-panel, the group moved to a rooftop café where Maya was scheduled for a press meet. Arya and Veer sat on a nearby bench, flipping through the catalogue of the next exhibit, while Kritarth chatted with Nikhil about soccer strategies like they were lifelong friends.

"He's quite charming," Veer whispered to Arya, nodding toward Kritarth.

"You mean Nikhil?"

"No, I mean your brother. He just convinced two sponsors to fund an entire youth photography camp in under fifteen minutes. Is that normal for him?"

"Terrifyingly normal," Arya admitted.

Meanwhile, Maya’s press session ended with a dramatic flourish, and the group gathered for an impromptu photoshoot. Ishaan offered to handle the camera, his fingers steady even if his glances toward Arya were fleeting.

Veer nudged her. "You okay?"

Arya nodded. "Just... memories. We weren’t always this awkward."

"You’re both too famous and too stubborn. Not a great combo."

Later that evening, the event held a fusion art showcase. Arya walked through the glowing halls of installations, Veer by her side. Kritarth had wandered off to flirt with an indie filmmaker, while Maya and Nikhil were buried in a debate over fashion influences in sports media.

Then she saw him—

Ishaan. Alone, staring at a black-and-white photo of a crowded Kolkata street. The same one she’d submitted anonymously.

He turned just as she approached.

"This one’s yours, isn’t it?" he asked, voice low.

Arya didn’t answer.

"I remember this moment. It’s from when we skipped that event in our final year and just wandered for hours. You took this when I wasn’t looking."

She said quietly, "You always hated being photographed."

"Not by you."

The silence was charged.

Then Veer came bounding over with two mocktails and the moment dissipated.