The hallway was nearly empty now. The buzz of the rehearsal hall had long faded, replaced by silence and disappointment.
Rajeev and Zyan's words still echoed in Tara and Riva's minds:
"We can't do anything about the pairings. The only person who can change them is Megha. But convincing her? That's next to impossible."
They exchanged a glance—neither angry at the other, just… helpless.
"So this is it," Riva said quietly, stuffing her lyric notebook into her bag.
"Yeah," Tara replied with a heavy sigh. "We're stuck."
They walked out together, the rest of the group trailing behind. It was late. Nobody had the energy to argue anymore.
---
Back in the girls' room, all five sat cross-legged on the floor—Riva, Tara, Mamta, Kabir, and Pratham. An open packet of chips lay between them, but no one touched it. The air was heavy with frustration.
"So… no solution?" Mamta asked, breaking the silence.
"No," Kabir said, leaning back against the wall, tension visible in his shoulders. "Unless Megha ma'am changes her mind, it's either Tara or Riva di leaving next."
His voice wavered slightly. Riva had become like a sister to him, and his quiet crush on Tara made the situation worse.
"Great," Tara muttered, her voice low and sarcastic. "Love that for us."
Riva gave a small smile, trying to lift the mood.
"Let's just focus on rehearsals tomorrow. We'll give it our best. May the better singer win, right?"
Tara raised an eyebrow.
"We both know you're the better singer."
"That's not true," Riva said quickly, shaking her head.
"Guys," Pratham chimed in, sitting up straighter, "maybe... let's not stress about it? It's a contest. Let's leave it to destiny."
The group fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts.
Pratham stood up and stretched.
"Alright, we're heading to our room. Tomorrow's going to be exhausting."
"Yeah," Kabir added as he followed. "You girls get some rest too, okay?"
Once the boys left, Mamta turned to Riva, her brows furrowed.
"You sure you're okay?"
Riva nodded slowly, eyes on the floor.
"Not really. But... we'll see what tomorrow brings."
They finally settled into bed. The lights dimmed. The room grew still.
But Riva's thoughts… they didn't rest.
----
Next Day.....
The rehearsal hall buzzed with energy. Contestants were everywhere—some practicing notes, some singing with instruments, others huddled in corners trying to memorize lyrics. The room was filled with voices, music, and movement.
Riva's group was equally busy. Even though they were competitors, they had decided to rehearse together, helping each other with harmonies and tricky parts. Riva and Tara, especially, were focused. Despite knowing one of them would be eliminated, they sang side by side, correcting each other gently and offering quiet support.
Everyone wore comfortable clothes—T-shirts, track pants, hoodies. It wasn't a glamorous day, just one made for work.
Rajeev and Zyan weren't around today. With nothing much assigned to them, they had taken the day off. Only a few crew and production members were present, making sure everything ran smoothly.
In one quiet corner of the hall, Megha sat at a table, busy with paperwork and a few other staff members. As the co-producer, she had many responsibilities, and she rarely interacted with the contestants. Today was no different—she stayed focused on her files, speaking softly with the people around her.
But Riva kept stealing glances in her direction. Even in a simple blue shirt and black pants, with her hair tied back in a ponytail, Megha looked effortlessly elegant. Something about her presence drew Riva's eyes—again and again.
Megha's presence was quiet, distant—but powerful. Dressed in a casual blue shirt and black pants, her hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, she looked calm, focused, beautiful in that effortless way. Riva didn't mean to keep looking. But her eyes kept going back—like a habit she couldn't break.
Tara noticed.
She'd noticed the first few times, but didn't say anything. She tried to stay calm, biting back the irritation building inside her. But then, one of Riva's glances lasted too long. Long enough to pull her attention fully away from the group. Long enough to make Tara snap.
"Can you stop staring at her?" Tara said sharply.
Riva blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"You heard me," Tara said, her voice low but firm. "You're not even focused. We're literally fighting for our place here, and you're busy making heart-eyes at Megha?"
Riva frowned, confused. "I wasn't staring at her. You're imagining it."
Tara gave a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. "Oh please. Don't even try to deny it. You've been doing it since morning."
In another moment, on another day, Tara would've teased her. Thrown a sarcastic comment, maybe laughed it off. But today wasn't that kind of day.
She was tired. Frustrated. Stuck in a competition against someone she now cared about deeply. She hadn't known Riva long—only a few weeks since the show began—but in that short time, they'd become each other's person. Late-night talks. Shared meals. Support through every round.
And now, everything felt like it was breaking.
"You know what?" Tara snapped, voice rising slightly. "It's because of her that we're even in this position. That we have to sing against each other."
Riva looked at her, eyes narrowing. "Tara…"
"No. Don't 'Tara' me." Her voice shook. "Megha Sinha probably planned this. She never supports women singers anyway. God forbid another girl climbs up and becomes her competition."
Riva's face changed. Her jaw tightened. "Tara, come on. You know that's not true. It's the format of the show. It's probably just a coincidence."
Tara's eyes flared. "Nothing is a coincidence on this show!" she snapped. "And Megha Sinha? She's just an insecure bitch who's scared of being replaced."
Riva stood up.
"Don't call her that," she said, loud and clear.
Too loud.
The room fell silent. Half the hall had heard her. A few contestants stopped mid-note. Some crew turned their heads. Even Megha, across the room, looked up from her papers.
Riva froze, regret hitting her instantly. She looked around. All eyes were on them.
Tara stood there, stunned. Riva had never—never—raised her voice at her like that. Not even once in these few intense weeks of knowing each other.
The hurt flashed across Tara's face like lightning. She stood up too, her hands clenched at her sides.
"Wow." Her voice trembled. "You're yelling at me now? For her?"
Riva opened her mouth, but Tara didn't let her speak.
"You're actually scolding your closest person here… because of some stupid celebrity crush?" Her voice cracked. "God, Riva. How stupid are you? She doesn't even look at you. But there you are—dreaming, staring, obsessing—while I'm the one standing next to you. The one singing with you. And now… you're choosing her over me?"
Tears were shining in Tara's eyes now, though none had fallen yet.
"You know what?" she said, voice low and shaking. "Maybe I shouldn't be around people who put their fantasy crushes over real friends."
She turned around, grabbing her bag quickly. Riva stepped forward.
"Tara—wait—please."
But Tara didn't stop.
Kabir, who had been quiet in the corner, watching it all unfold with growing worry, stood up and ran after her without a word.
Riva stood still, breathing hard, her chest heavy with guilt. She looked across the hall again.
Megha had gone back to her papers. But her posture was stiff now. Tense. Like she had heard everything.
Mamta gently touched Riva's arm, her voice soft. "Are you okay?"
Riva didn't answer. She sat back down slowly, eyes on the door Tara had just walked through. The warmth in her chest for Megha… was now tangled in something else.
Loss.
And the painful silence of hurting the one person who, in such little time, had become everything.
After few hours....
The rehearsal hall was nearly empty by the time the sun slipped down the horizon, leaving the space bathed in a warm golden hue.
Pratham leaned against a chair, glancing at Riva with concern. "Come on, Riva… let's go. You need to rest."
Riva shook her head slowly. "Tara must be in the room. I… I don't think I can face her right now."
Mamta stepped closer. "We'll stay with you."
"No," Riva said gently. "Please go. I'll be fine. Just… give me some time."
Now alone, Riva stayed there, the silence around her louder than ever. Her mind was spinning—Tara's words, her own outburst, the regret that sat heavy in her chest.
She didn't know how long she had been sitting like that when a voice came from behind.
"Everything is fine?"
It was firm, but soft. Caring, even.
Riva turned around, startled. Her eyes widened as she saw Megha standing there.
She looked… different. Not like the unshakable, composed Megha Sinha the world knew. Her body language was hesitant, almost awkward.
Her hands were clasped lightly in front of her. Her expression was the same as always—unreadable—but her eyes…
Her eyes were soft. Concerned.
Riva's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected her. Not here. Not like this.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
And in that silence, everything felt louder.