The Calm Before the Storm

*INTRODUCTION*

Aarav Singh

A calm face in the chaos. A smile too peaceful for the world he’s about to enter. Son of a small-time businessman. Known. Liked. But far from ready.

Diya

Sharp tongue, sharper mind. She walks beside him like a mirror—seeing more than she speaks.

Rohit

The loud one. The heart of the group. A friend who laughs loudest before the silence.

Vikram

Quiet. Loyal. Observant. The kind you forget in the room—until you need him the most.

Mehak

Warm, careful, and brave in ways no one sees. The calm in their small rooftop world.

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Mohit

The kind of bully who laughs too much. Just a schoolyard king trying to wear a crown built on fear.

Jay & Soham

Followers. Loud when together. Silent when alone. Shadows that grow in the dark.

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Asim

Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t react. But they say once he moves—someone ends up on the floor.

A question mark with fists.

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Zyan

Leader of Northside's school gang. Controlled. Stylish. Dangerous. Rumor says his punches break ribs—and rules.

Ashish & Rohan

Zyan’s right and left hand. Loyal because they’ve seen what happens when you’re not.

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Rocky

Orphan. Leader. Survivor. His gang sleeps under the open sky and wakes up ready for war.

Momin

Doesn’t fight much. Doesn’t need to. His phone calls do the work. His name opens doors—and closes futures.

Roshan

The kind one. The scary one. The two sides of a coin that always lands the wrong way up.

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Chapter 1:

It was 8:03 a.m.

The school gates buzzed with the usual morning chatter. Students in navy-blue uniforms poured in, some rushing to avoid detention, others strolling in slow motion like the world owed them time. In the middle of this noisy wave walked Aarav Singh — shirt untucked, bag slung lazily over one shoulder, his signature half-smile barely hiding his tired eyes.

He greeted the watchman with a casual, “Good morning, Bhaiya,” and slipped through the crowd.

Aarav wasn’t the school topper. He wasn’t a rebel either. But somehow, everyone knew him. Teachers trusted him. Girls talked about him in hushed whispers. And if someone was being bullied, odds were, Aarav would show up before a teacher did.

“Aarav! Wait up!”

That was Diya, matching his pace with her usual no-nonsense walk.

“You forgot to bring your debate file. Again.”

“Ah... I’ll wing it,” he said, flashing a sheepish grin.

Behind them, Rohit and Vikram followed—Rohit cracking loud jokes that only half made sense, while Vikram trailed behind, headphones in, lost in his world.

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Inside Class 11-B

The usual tension returned as soon as they stepped in.

Mohit was already leaning on Aarav’s desk, grinning like he owned the place.

Jay and Soham, his shadows, laughed at a meme they were showing off on someone's phone.

“Morning, hero,” Mohit said sarcastically. “Saved any kittens today?”

Aarav didn’t reply. He calmly walked over, dropped his bag, and looked him in the eye.

“You’re in my seat, Mohit.”

Jay scoffed, “Relax bro, we’re just messing with you.”

Aarav didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t threaten. He just stood there, calm and firm.

After a moment, Mohit muttered, “Tch, whatever,” and backed off. The class watched quietly. It was an unspoken truth—Aarav never started trouble. But he never backed down either.

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Lunch Break – The Rooftop

The rooftop was their escape. A rusted door, a creaky stairway, and a peaceful view of the city skyline. It was here that Aarav’s group gathered almost every day.

Mehak joined them, handing out sandwiches she made at home.

“You guys hear the news?” she asked, sitting beside Diya.

“What news?” Vikram asked, mouth full.

“Some kid from Northside got sent to the hospital. They say it was a gang fight. Something about Zyan’s crew.”

Rohit whistled. “That guy’s insane. Didn’t he break someone’s jaw last year at the debate finals?”

Aarav leaned back, chewing slowly, listening but not reacting.

“Gangs, huh…” he muttered. “And here we are, getting detention for late homework.”

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Meanwhile, in the last bench of Class 11-B...

Asim sat alone.

He always did.

No one spoke to him. No one really knew him. But there were rumors. Once, Jay tried to push him around—and ended up with a nosebleed. Asim didn’t say a word. He just stared. And that stare stayed with people longer than the punch.

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As the bell rang and the class emptied, Aarav remained for a moment, staring out the window.

Down below, three boys in a different uniform crossed the school fence and disappeared into the alley.

Something was shifting in the city.

And soon, the storm would reach him too.

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