Every underdog has a moment when the world looks up—
And tonight, the world looked at him.
The mansion stood like a crown on the edge of the city. Draped in white jasmine, wrapped in fairy lights that danced like fireflies. No neon signs. No tacky flex. Just quiet wealth and the scent of celebration.
Aarav Malik had made it.
It was his sister's wedding. The third of five. The courtyard buzzed with music, laughter, and the constant clatter of cutlery and clinking glasses. Everyone wore their best. But none matched the man in black.
He stepped down the marble stairs, dressed in a perfectly tailored sherwani—black, gold accents, silent elegance. A watch that whispered old money. Two security guards followed him like shadows. Unnecessary, but expected now.
He wasn't walking with pride. He was walking with purpose.
And then… she arrived.
The girl no one noticed. Dark skin. Oversized glasses. A lehenga that didn't shine, but carried simplicity like armor. She didn't fit in the crowd—but she didn't shrink from it either.
Aarav spotted her and walked over himself.
"You came," he said quietly.
She smiled, warm but shy. "If not for your sister's wedding, then when?"
They moved to the side garden, away from cameras and cousins. There, by the marble fountain, under the soft hum of fairy lights, Aarav finally asked the question that had lived in his silence for years.
"Have you heard about Mira?"
The girl took a breath. The name still carried weight.
"Yes."
He waited.
"She's married now," she said. "To that guy—the rich one from school."
Aarav didn't flinch. But something in his jaw tightened.
"She's… not happy," the girl added carefully.
He finally looked at her. Just once. Eyes calm, unreadable.
"Her husband," she continued, "he's abusive. He gets angry. Violent. Especially after the birth of their second daughter."
Aarav's fingers curled for a second. Just a second.
"And Mira?" he asked.
"She smiles for the world," the girl said, "but she's falling apart inside."
He nodded. Once. Like a judge passing silent verdict. But he didn't ask more.
He didn't talk about the past.
Didn't rant.
Didn't play the savior.
Because some scars don't need reopening.
Some wounds don't want revenge.
They just want peace.
Behind them, the fireworks burst into the night sky. Laughter erupted from the courtyard. The dhol beat grew louder. A moment of joy for the Malik family.
But in the shadows of that grand house, stood a man who had once been forgotten—
Now unforgettable.
And beside him…
The only person who had always seen him.