The school auditorium had transformed into a swirling blend of colours, voices, and frantic last-minute rehearsals. Curtains flapped, students ran with props, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat, flowers, and nervous anticipation.
Karthik stood by the side stage with a checklist in hand, trying to make sense of the whirlwind. "Two more veenas, check. Extra lamps, check. Where's the paper crown?"
"I'm wearing it," came a cheeky voice from behind.
He turned to see Ananya, dressed as a mythological queen, with a cardboard crown slightly crooked on her head.
Karthik gave her a long stare. "It's crooked."
"You're crooked," she shot back, sticking her tongue out.
He stepped closer and gently adjusted the crown, fingers brushing her hair. For a moment, everything else—the chaos, the noise, the festival—faded.
"There. Now you're dramatic and regal."
Ananya smirked but didn't move away. "You're not bad at this, you know."
"At fixing crowns?"
"At being here," she said softly. "With people. With me."
He didn't know how to reply. So he didn't.
---
The performance began, and Karthik worked silently behind the curtains, moving sets and helping kids get into position. But his eyes often strayed to Ananya—commanding the stage with grace, lighting up the room with her presence.
She belonged up there, radiant and confident.
He belonged in the shadows.
Still, he was glad to be in her world, even if just from the sidelines.
---
After the show, the cast gathered in a messy circle of laughter and applause. Ananya rushed over, breathless and beaming.
"You were amazing," Karthik said before she could speak.
Her eyes sparkled. "So were you. We couldn't have pulled this off without you."
Then, suddenly, she leaned in and whispered, "Maybe you don't belong in the shadows after all."
Karthik's heart stuttered.
And for the first time, he believed her.
---
End of Chapter 69