Ravi had always been drawn to Waidasei, the girl who seemed to exist in her own spotlight. She wasn’t just beautiful; she had a magnetic aura that captivated everyone, including Ravi, though she never noticed him. It wasn’t love—more of a fascination, a quiet yearning to capture her essence in words.
One night, his emotions spilled onto the page, and he wrote a short story inspired by her. Though fictional, the protagonist bore Waidasei’s name and carried her charm, her wit, her fire. Ravi published the story online, hoping it might resonate with her if she ever stumbled upon it.
The next day, Ravi received an unexpected message.
“Ravi, did you write about me in that story?” Sensile asked bluntly.
“It’s just fiction,” Ravi replied, unsure of her tone.
“Fiction or not, I don’t want my name in it. Change it,” she demanded.
Ravi hesitated. “Okay, I’ll change it,” he said. “But can you help me out? You have so many followers—just a few likes and comments would really mean a lot.”
She agreed almost dismissively. “Fine. Just make the changes.”
Ravi spent hours editing the story, carefully removing her name and replacing it with another. When he updated the post, he felt a strange mix of pride and anticipation. But the next day, when he checked, there were no likes, no comments, nothing from Waidasei. Confused, he went to her profile only to find he’d been blocked—not just by her but also removed from the group they were both part of.
The realization hit hard. Her promise had been empty, her interest in him nonexistent. A wave of frustration and bitterness surged through Ravi. He stared at his edited story and made a decision.
With a defiant resolve, he restored Waidasei’s name in the story. Not just her name, but subtle, unmistakable details that painted her personality vividly. He reposted the story, this time with an introduction: "This is about someone unforgettable—someone who inspired more than she’ll ever know."
The story gained traction, readers drawn to the raw emotion and passion in his words. Waidasei soon found out about it. Furious, she messaged him through a friend’s account.
“What is this? I told you to remove my name!” she wrote.
Ravi’s reply was calm, almost cold. “I did. But then I realized—you don’t get to erase the part of yourself that inspired me. If the world sees you in my story, maybe it’s because you left a mark.”
Waidasei never replied, but Ravi didn’t care anymore. His story, raw and unfiltered, resonated with readers in ways he hadn’t expected. And though Waidasei tried to silence his words, she became immortalized in the very thing she sought to erase.
