Aarav leaned slightly toward Khushi as they sat on the quiet bench, his eyes fixed on her face. The streetlamp above them buzzed faintly, casting a soft yellow glow over their conversation. The world around them was hushed, but the weight of what she was about to reveal made the silence feel heavy.
“So?” he prompted gently.
Khushi hesitated, biting her lower lip. “Listen… I promised Ishika I wouldn’t tell anyone about this.”
Aarav’s expression fell. “Khushi.....”
She looked at him—his worried eyes, his sincerity—and nodded slowly. “But I’ll tell you.”
Aarav exhaled with relief. “Yeah?”
She took a moment, gathering her thoughts before speaking.
“Okay, so… do you know Ishika’s father?”
“I’ve heard about him,” Aarav said. “He’s a businessman, right?”
Khushi nodded, her voice growing quieter. “Not just any businessman. One of the richest in the country—Digvijay Thakur .”
Aarav’s eyes widened a little. “Oh.”
Khushi continued, her voice steady but clearly strained. “He’s... kind of egoistic. Arrogant, honestly. His pride and reputation come before everything—even his own family. What the world thinks of him matters more than what his own daughter feels.”
Aarav frowned. “And Ishika’s mom?”
A small, wistful smile crossed Khushi’s face. “Her mom’s the exact opposite. Kind, warm, always thinking about others. She’s like... Ishika’s safe space. They’re really close. Most of the time, Ishika only opens up to her.”
Somehow, just hearing that Ishika had someone she could lean on made Aarav feel a bit lighter. He didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath.
“Ishika’s an only child,” Khushi went on. “Everyone assumes she’s lucky. That she gets all the love, all the attention. But the truth is... it’s the opposite.”
Aarav turned fully toward her. “What do you mean?”
Khushi’s expression darkened slightly. “Because she’s the only child—and the only heir to her father’s empire—he expects everything from her. Success. Perfection. Discipline. She’s not allowed to make mistakes. He controls everything… where she goes, who she meets, what she does after school. Her life is like a glass cage—beautiful from the outside, suffocating from within.”
Aarav’s hands curled into fists in his lap.
“But that’s not fair…”
Khushi nodded solemnly. “It’s not. She’s constantly under pressure. Always trying to be the daughter her father wants, while secretly longing to live her life. She hides her real self because if her father ever finds out she’s been making friends, sneaking out… hanging out at a café with boys—” she glanced at Aarav “—he’d be furious. You saw how scared she looked earlier, right?”
Aarav nodded slowly, the memory of Ishika’s pale face flashing in his mind. “She didn’t even say goodbye… just ran.”
“That’s because her father came back early. She thought she had time.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, processing it all.
“Why didn’t she just tell us?” he asked.
Khushi gave a sad smile. “Because she’s scared. She doesn’t want anyone to see her as weak—or worse, to get involved and face her father's wrath. She trusts me, but even I had to earn that trust after years.”
Aarav looked down, his jaw clenched. “She doesn’t have to deal with this alone…”
“She knows that now,” Khushi said softly. “Maybe that’s why she let herself enjoy today. Just for once.”
He looked up, eyes burning with determination. “I’m going to be there for her. Even if she pushes me away. Even if she never says it out loud.”
As Khushi continued, Aarav couldn't help but notice the quiet ache in her voice—the way her eyes shimmered with pain, not for herself, but for her friend. It wasn’t just sympathy. It was heartbreak… for someone she clearly cared about deeply.
“You know, Aarav,” she said softly, “from the outside, Ishika has everything. A villa so big it feels like a palace, branded clothes from all over the world, expensive ornaments, a lifestyle most people can only dream of. If someone just heard about her, they’d think—‘Wow, what a perfect life she must have.’”
She paused, looking down at her fingers clasped tightly in her lap.
“But… luxury isn’t everything. What’s the use of all that, when you don’t even have one person to share it with? When you're alone even in a house full of people?”
Aarav said nothing. He didn’t know what to say. Because she was right.
“Ishika doesn’t dream of being rich or famous. She just wants to live like a normal girl,” Khushi continued, her voice almost a whisper. “She wants friends—real ones. She wants to go on silly one-day trips, laugh loudly at cafés, eat roadside snacks without worrying about what her father will think… and most of all, she just wants one peaceful evening with her dad. One genuine father-daughter moment.”
Aarav clenched his jaw.
“Since she was four,” Khushi said, “her life’s been scripted by her father. Every move—what she eats, what she wears, what school she goes to, which people she can talk to… he controls everything. Even her expressions.”
Aarav's hands curled into fists in his lap. He could feel anger boiling inside him.
“How can someone call themselves a father,” he muttered, “and treat their daughter like that?”
Khushi let out a bitter chuckle. “He wants her to be perfect. That’s his obsession. She’s studied in the best schools, had private tutors, joined elite music and dance classes—everything to craft an ideal public image. But what’s the point of raising a ‘perfect daughter’ if you’re not even trying to be a decent father?”
“Exactly,” Aarav agreed.
Khushi looked off into the distance, her voice growing heavier.
“In her last school, she tried to make friends. She really tried. But all she got was betrayal.”
Aarav’s brows knit together. “Why? What happened?”
Khushi sighed. “That school… it was full of heirs. Kids from royal families and giant business empires. And you know what most of them learned from their families? How to use people. To see friendship like a business deal. Ishika… she was too honest. Too kind. They saw that as a weakness.”
Aarav stayed quiet. He’d seen people like that before—but never imagined Ishika had been surrounded by them for years.
“She used to come home with bruises on her soul,” Khushi whispered. “They took advantage of her, mocked her behind her back… and still smiled to her face when they needed her.”
Aarav felt his throat tighten. “I’m glad she’s not like them.”
Khushi looked at him and nodded. “That’s only because of her mom. If it wasn’t for her… Ishika might’ve ended up just like her father.”
Aarav’s thoughts spiraled. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ishika and how much she must be carrying behind that composed, graceful smile. The way she ran out earlier now made so much sense. She wasn’t just scared—she was trapped.
And for the first time, he realized…
She didn’t need someone to impress her.
She needed someone to understand her.
"Ishika really wanted to make friends," Khushi began, her voice carrying a soft ache. "But she’d realized that in that world she came from… real connections were impossible. Every smile had a motive. Every compliment was calculated. She was suffocating there, constantly pretending, constantly alone."
Aarav remained silent, listening intently.
"So when it was time to enter high school, she made a decision," Khushi continued. "She begged her father to let her transfer to this school—with me. We've known each other since we were ten. My dad works as a manager in her father's company."
Aarav looked at her, surprised. "Then how did she convince him?"
"Well," Khushi exhaled, her brows furrowing, "he agreed. But on one condition."
Aarav’s eyes narrowed. "What condition?"
"That Ishika wouldn’t make any friends here. She wasn’t allowed to hang out with anyone, or even talk to people outside of class," she said bitterly. "He said she could attend this school only if she promised to stay invisible."
"But… wasn’t making friends the whole reason she wanted to come here?" Aarav asked in disbelief.
Khushi gave a small nod. "Yeah, it was. That was all she ever wanted. But she accepted the condition anyway."
"Why? Why would she agree to something so… cruel?"
Khushi’s voice softened. "Because she didn’t have a choice, Aarav. She just wanted a chance to be normal. Even if it meant small freedoms. At least here, inside school, she could speak to people, even if carefully. She thought… maybe that would be enough."
Aarav clenched his fists. His heart hurt just thinking about how unfair that was.
"But she’s changed," he said. "She’s talking to us outside of school now too. She laughs with everyone. She’s slowly stepping out of that cage."
"Exactly," Khushi said with a hopeful smile. "She’s gathering courage to take a stand. Slowly, quietly, she’s pushing back. And it’s not easy. Every little act of defiance costs her something."
Aarav remembered Ishika’s sudden exit from the café earlier and asked, “Was today one of those moments?”
Khushi nodded, her expression serious. "She told me her father had gone on a business trip. That’s why she thought she could stay out a bit longer today. But from the way she left so suddenly… I think he returned early."
His eyes widened. "Then we should go check on her! What if—?"
"No." Khushi placed a gentle hand on his arm. "We can't. If we go there now, it’ll only make things worse for her. Her father will use it as another excuse to control her even more."
Aarav hesitated, worry clouding his face. "But… she’s alone."
"She’s not," Khushi said with quiet confidence. "She has her mother. And more importantly, she’s not as fragile as she looks. Ishika's been surviving storms like this her whole life."
Aarav slowly exhaled. “Still… I just—wish I could do something.”
"You are,” Khushi said, giving him a small smile. “By being someone she can trust. Someone who doesn’t treat her like a burden or an asset.”
He nodded, still feeling that familiar tug of helplessness in his chest.
“Don’t worry,” she said again, reassuringly. “She’ll handle it. And when she’s ready… she’ll let us in.”
Aarav looked down at the pavement, his mind still on her.
“If you say so…” he whispered.
