Rain-soaked university campus. A quiet street corner near the literature building.
Time: Tuesday, 5:42 PM
Maya Sharma [FL]
(typing into her Notes app)
"His voice sounded like a promise whispered in pain."
Ugh. Too dramatic?
(She pauses and glances up. The rain is soft, misting the empty street. There he is again — same bench, same hoodie, same storm in his music.)
Narration – Maya's Thought
He's always here on Tuesdays. Same time. Same song.
People pass him like he's invisible.
But I hear every word.
Like they're meant for someone who understands heartbreak.
Aryan Renzo Malik [ML]
(soft humming, strumming slowly, voice low)
🎶 "She loved me like a prayer...
But I broke like a lie..." 🎶
(Eyes closed, brows slightly furrowed)
Maya
(whispers)
That line again.
Who hurt you so deeply?
Aryan
(still playing)
You're back.
That's three Tuesdays in a row.
Maya
(startled)
I wasn't following you—
Just passing by.
Aryan
(chuckles)
Passing by with an umbrella… standing there for ten minutes.
Maya
I like your music.
The lyrics… they feel like something I'd write.
Aryan
Then maybe you should.
Ever thought of turning your pain into a melody?
Maya
I don't have pain.
(Pause.)
Maya
Okay. I do. But I hide it better.
Aryan
That's why you write, don't you?
People who write have oceans inside them.
Maya
And people who sing...?
Aryan
Are just trying not to drown.
(He finally looks at her. His eyes are dark, unreadable. Maya feels something shift inside her.)
Narration – Maya's Thought
He doesn't look like someone who belongs on this campus bench.
His eyes aren't poor.
They're heavy… like they've seen things poetry can't explain.
Maya
What's your name?
Aryan
A.R.
Maya
Just letters?
Aryan
I don't give my real name to people who might remember it.
Maya
I'm M.S.
But you can call me Maya.
(smiles slightly)
Aryan
I'll forget everything… except your eyes.
(He strums a new melody, different from before. Slower. Deeper.)
Aryan
(singing softly)
🎶 "She walked in like a poem unfinished…
And left before the ink dried." 🎶
Maya
(quietly)
That's beautiful.
Did you write it?
Aryan
No. You just did.
(They both freeze for a moment. Rain falls. Heartbeats louder than thunder.)
Aryan
You should bring your words next time.
Maya
There'll be a next time?
Aryan
Same bench. Next Tuesday.
Bring your verses.
I'll bring the storm.
Narration – Maya's Thought
I shouldn't feel drawn to a boy I barely know.
But something in him sings to the quietest part of me.
Maya
(typing one last note)
"I met a stranger made of rain and regret… and he knew every line I'd never written."
This one…
I think I'll keep.