General Pov
It happened in the middle of literature class.
No grand announcement. No microphone. Just the teacher standing at the front, flipping through a stack of papers, her voice calm and deliberate.
"This year's dramatics competition will be team-based," she said. "Eight members per team. You'll write, rehearse, and perform a ten-minute piece. The theme is What We Don't Say."
The room stirred.
Chairs creaked. Pens paused mid-sentence.
Some students exchanged glances. Others sank lower in their seats.
Then she added, almost like an afterthought:
"Rules are simple.
— Every team must submit an original script.
— No props beyond chairs and paper.
— No background music.
— Every member must speak at least once.
— The piece must explore silence, memory, and emotional tension.
— No rewrites after submission.
— And no switching teams."
That last line hung in the air like a lock clicking shut.
Then she began reading names.
"Team Three," she said. "Vedant Kapoor. Arohi Mehta. Nihal Singh. Meher Sharma. Mudit Agrawal. Riya Malhotra. Aryan Sharma. Isha Verma."
Eight names.
One team.
Heads turned.
Vedant looked up, already calculating.
Arohi folded her arms, unreadable.
Nihal grinned and nudged Aryan, who fist-pumped under the desk.
Meher squealed softly, eyes wide.
Mudit blinked, surprised.
Riya raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
Isha clapped her hands, already imagining the script.
The bell rang.
Class ended.
But none of them moved right away.
They gathered near the corridor windows, where the light slanted in like a spotlight.
"This is going to be chaos," Aryan said, half-laughing.
"Or brilliance," Meher replied, already pulling out her notebook.
Vedant glanced at Arohi. "You okay with this?"
She nodded. "I like a challenge."
Riya twirled her pen. "What's the theme again?"
Mudit spoke quietly. "What we don't say."
That silenced them.
Because suddenly, it didn't feel like just a school event.
It felt personal.
Isha broke the pause. "We should meet tonight. Start brainstorming."
"Common room?" Meher suggested.
"Seven p.m.," Aryan confirmed. "Bring ideas. And snacks."
They nodded.
No one said much after that.
But something had shifted.
They weren't just classmates anymore.
They were castmates.
Characters in a story they hadn't written yet.
And somewhere between the lines they'd perform,
They'd start to reveal the ones they'd been hiding.
Not with words.
But with glances.
With pauses.
With the kind of silence that says everything.