[Just Sharing the re-edited version 1st favourite chapter from my novel as a story ]
Rohit approached the campfire with an angry scowl etched across his face. As he neared the campfire, his gaze fell upon Ayaan and Isha, sitting comfortably by the flames, their easy camaraderie serving as a stark reminder of how different their paths seemed from his own. The contrast between the warmth of the fire and the coldness in his heart only intensified his anger.
Dev, ever the one to stir the pot, couldn't resist poking fun at the sour expression on Rohit’s face. “What's the matter, Rohit? Did you lose a bet or just your temper?” he teased with a grin. The words hung in the air like a challenge, but Rohit, visibly seething, refused to engage. His fists clenched, but he held himself back, taking a deep breath before turning to Isha.
With an impatient flick of his hand, Rohit gestured to Isha, signaling for her to follow him away from the campfire. “I need to speak with you. Alone,” he said, his voice low and laced with frustration. Despite the teasing from Dev and the tension hanging in the air, Rohit’s tone left no room for argument, and Isha hesitated only briefly before standing up, ready to face whatever was weighing on his mind.
As Rohit turned away from the group to walk toward Isha, Dev couldn't help himself. With a mischievous grin, he called out, “Rohit, looks like you're jealous of Ayaan and Isha sitting together. What's the matter? Can’t stand the sight of them getting along?” His words were sharp, laced with a playful yet biting tone.But rohit focus remained solely on Isha.
A few colleagues gathered around, whispering among themselves. “Did you know? Rohit and Isha arrived at the training grounds at the same time, about nine months ago. Guess they've known each other for a while,” one of them murmured. The implication was clear, and the whispers began to build a sense of curiosity among the group. But none of it seemed to bother Rohit as he continued his march toward Isha, determined to speak with her alone.
Before Ayaan could speak up and intervene, Isha, with a mischievous smile, held up a hand, signaling for him to remain silent. With a confident, almost bossy tone, she turned toward Dev, teasing him. “Oh, Dev, you must be jealous, too. You’ve been single for so long, haven’t you?” She winked playfully, her voice laced with teasing. “And maybe you and Ayaan have some dark little secret relationship, huh?” At that, both Ayaan and Dev froze, glaring at each other. Neither of them responded immediately, but the words hit a nerve. Dev, rolling his eyes, snapped, “We are straight, alright?” Ayaan, equally irritated, added, “Yeah, definitely not. Let’s make that clear.”
Isha grinned at their discomfort but didn't let up, her teasing continuing as she gave Rohit a knowing glance. “Alright, alright, I'm coming,” she said, her tone carrying an air of authority and amusement as she waved off the teasing and followed Rohit away from the campfire.
Ayaan's eyes followed Isha as she walked toward Rohit. He couldn't help but notice the determined look on her face, a stark contrast to the playful teasing she had just shared with Dev. There was something about her that made it clear she wasn’t going to let Rohit’s anger go unnoticed. Ayaan, however, was too caught up in the unease of the situation to say anything, watching with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Isha stood in front of Rohit, her posture commanding as she spoke with a bossy tone. “Why does my dear troublemaker always feel the need to stir up more trouble?” she asked, her words dripping with a playful yet authoritative air. But there was a sharp edge in her voice, one that suggested she wasn’t amused by his mood or his outbursts.
Rohit shot her a scowl, his anger not cooling in the slightest. “Why do you want to get involved in Project-M?” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration and impatience. The tension between them was thick, and his question hung in the air like a challenge.
Isha raised an eyebrow at Rohit’s sudden shift in tone. Her lips curled into a slight smirk as she responded with a nonchalant shrug. “Why do you think I want to get involved in Project M?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe it’s because I’m capable—unlike some people who are busy making trouble instead of focusing on the bigger picture.” Her words were sharp, the challenge in her tone unmistakable.
She wasn’t just responding to his question—she was calling him out, making it clear that she wasn’t intimidated by his anger.
Rohit's anger seemed to fade as he stood there, his face softening into a sad frown. His voice, once full of frustration, now carried a trace of vulnerability. “Please tell me… why?” he asked quietly, the question hanging heavily in the air, his eyes searching Isha’s face for an answer.
Isha noticed the change in his demeanor, and for the first time, the teasing facade she had worn faded. Her smile softened into something more genuine, filled with a quiet concern. She stepped closer, her eyes searching his face, seeing the vulnerability he was trying to hide.
With a slight, almost melancholic smile, she answered, her voice calm but laden with meaning. “Just like you,” she said, her words carrying weight, “I, too, am searching for answers. If Project M can provide the answers to our scars, then that's where I need to be.” There was a vulnerability in her tone as well, a hint of something unspoken between them—something both raw and real.
Rohit’s eyes softened, and he let out a quiet, almost desperate plea. “Please…” His voice wavered as he searched Isha’s face, hoping for something that could ease the turmoil inside him.
Isha, sensing the weight of his unspoken emotions, raised a hand to stop him from speaking further. Her gaze was steady, yet there was an underlying sadness in her eyes.
“I understand why you don’t want me to get involved with Project M," she said, her voice calm but firm. “We all know it’s still shrouded in mystery, and we all know how dangerous it is. But the scars of our life—the ones from 1.5 years ago—they’re still haunting us, no matter how much we try to push them away.”
She paused for a moment, her words carrying a weight that felt heavy on both of them. “Even though we’re Survivors, those scars are part of us now. And while I’m grateful that Aditya Rajan, the president, helped us, backed us when no one else would , just like you, I’m also searching for answers. I need them too.”
Isha took a deep breath, her expression softening as she spoke again, her voice gentle yet firm. “Rohit, I get it. We’ve all been through so much, and it’s hard to face what comes next. But just like before, I need you to respect my decision,” she said, locking eyes with him. “I’m choosing this path because I believe it’s the only way to find what we’re all looking for—the truth, the closure, the answers that we all deserve.”
Rohit, his face filled with concern, responded, “No matter what decisions you make, I will respect them. But still... ”
Before he could finish, Isha cut him off, slipping back into her usual bossy nature. “Oh? Are you worried about my safety?” she teased, a smirk playing on her lips. “Don’t worry about it. I know you’ll protect me just like before.” She then playfully nudged his shoulder. “And my dear troublemaker, stop overthinking and enjoy our last day at the campfire.”
Rohit exhaled, then slapped both his cheeks with his hands to shake off the tension. “Fine, fine. You go ahead, I’ll join in a minute.” But before she could walk away, his voice lowered slightly. “By the way, Isha… does anyone know about the secrets? Especially Ayaan… and the reason you were selected for Project M?”
Isha paused for a moment before shaking her head. “Nope,” she said casually.
Rohit hesitated for a second, then let out a small sigh. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, forcing a faint smirk. “Go on, I’ll catch up in a minute.”
As Rohit watched Isha walk toward the campfire, a familiar scene flickered through his mind—a memory of a time when he and his friends had once gathered around a similar fire, laughing and carefree. His chest tightened as the thought crossed his mind: If everything had been alright, maybe we’d be sitting together, enjoying this moment just like before.
His reflection was abruptly interrupted by Isha’s voice calling out to him. “Oi, Mr. Troublemaker! Stop daydreaming and get over here!”
Shaking off the momentary haze, Rohit walked toward the group, finding his usual place among them.
Dev smirked as he noticed Rohit lagging behind. “Finally! Took you long enough,” he teased before shifting his gaze to Isha. “Now, it’s your turn to sing.”
Rohit’s expression darkened. He knew why Dev was pushing Isha to sing—before that incident, Isha had always been the one to lead their songs. But after what happened, she had stopped. His instincts urged him to intervene, to warn her—
But before he could speak, Isha smiled and said, “Alright, I’ll sing.” She paused, glancing at Rohit before adding, “But only if we do it together.”
She then began the song, its title lingering in the air like an unspoken message: My Message…
As her voice filled the night, Rohit hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and joining in. Their voices blended in harmony, weaving through the night like an unspoken conversation only they understood.
The moment was mesmerizing, and by the time the song ended, the rest of the group erupted into applause, completely unaware of the significance behind it.
Then, without warning, Isha reached for Rohit’s hand, intertwining their fingers before softly pressing a kiss to his hand. It was a bold, undeniable statement—one that answered the silent curiosity surrounding them.
As Ayaan listened to the song, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him. His eyes widened slightly as he realized—the lyrics began with the same words and ended the same way. It felt deliberate, as if carrying an unspoken message. His thoughts drifted, a quiet question forming in his mind:
When will I experience something like this? When will I understand what it truly means to feel this way?
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In a dimly lit hostel hallway, a frustrated voice echoed through the corridors.
“Anaya! Where are you?”
A girl, her brows furrowed in mild irritation, glanced around before turning to her roommate. “Riya, did you see Anaya anywhere?”
Her friend shook her head. “Nope Pooja ,Maybe she’s on the rooftop?”
“Alright, let’s check.”
The rooftop was bathed in soft moonlight, a gentle breeze weaving through the night. There, standing alone beneath the vast sky, was a girl humming a tune, her eyes fixed on the moon with a quiet smile. The melody was faint, yet carried an undeniable warmth. As the song neared its end, her soft voice lingered on the final words:
“…to the moon.”
The approaching girl stopped in her tracks, watching the lone figure under the night sky. A knowing smile played on her lips as she spoke.
“So, you’re here. Anaya.”
And at that moment, in two different places, under the same moonlit sky—Ayaan and Anaya unknowingly shared the same view, their fates slowly aligning .
[ For Full Context Check out my novel
Project-M Lovely Days Before The Day of Nightmare ]
