The fairy lights were strung between trees like constellations.
Music pulsed from a Bluetooth speaker.
Plates of samosas and half-eaten pastries littered the benches.
Everyone was there—Meher, Nihal, Aryan, Isha, Arohi, Vedant.
And Mudit, pacing like a man with a storm in his chest.
Riya sat on the edge of the fountain, sipping Coke, laughing at Aryan's terrible dance moves.
But her eyes kept flicking toward Mudit.
Suddenly, the music cut.
Vedant had paused it.
Everyone turned.
Mudit stepped forward, clearing his throat.
"Okay. I need to say something. And I swear if anyone interrupts me, I'll throw Nihal's samosa at them."
Laughter.
Then silence.
"Riya… we've fought. We've disagreed. We've made sarcastic comments that could qualify as emotional warfare.
But through all of it, I kept coming back to you.
Not because you're easy.
But because you're real."
Riya blinked.
Everyone leaned in.
"I love you.
Not the filtered version.
The full, chaotic, brilliant you.
And if you'll have me—I want to be the guy who gets to argue with you forever."
Riya stood.
Walked up to him.
And smacked his arm.
"You idiot. You think I've been rolling my eyes at you for fun?"
She grinned.
"I love you too, Mudit.
Even when you're dramatic.
Especially when you're dramatic."
They hugged.
And the courtyard exploded.
Aryan started dancing again—this time with Isha.
Meher pulled Nihal into a slow spin under the lights.
Vedant and Arohi sat on the fountain's edge, watching it all unfold.
Arohi leaned into Vedant.
"You know what I love about us?"
Vedant smiled. "What?"
"We're the quiet ones.
But we're surrounded by chaos.
And somehow, it feels like home."
Vedant nodded.
"Because it's our chaos."
Someone brought out sparklers.
Someone else started a chant: "Mudit and Riya! Mudit and Riya!"
They all huddled together—laughing, shouting, glowing.
And in that moment, under the stars and fairy lights,
they weren't just friends.
They were a story.