Chapter 28: A Picture Painted with Lies
The midday sun streamed through the large glass panels of the Christ University canteen, illuminating the familiar, chaotic symphony of student life. The clatter of trays, the murmur of a hundred conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter created a vibrant, energetic atmosphere. It was a scene of normalcy, a stark contrast to the venomous currents that had already begun to poison the campus air.
At a table near the center, Aarav, Ayushi, Akash, and Puja were enjoying a rare moment of peace. The tension from the Nilgiris trip had subsided, replaced by the comfortable camaraderie of shared meals and inside jokes. Aarav and Ayushi were discussing a new case study, their heads bent close together over a tablet, while Akash was scrolling through his phone, and Puja was meticulously arranging her food. To any casual observer, they were just another group of friends.
But they were being watched.
Several tables away, nestled in a corner that gave them a perfect vantage point, Rajat sat like a king holding court. He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he listened to his two most reliable underlings, Latish and Sameer.
"It's done, boss," Latish whispered, his eyes gleaming with a sycophantic light. "The seeds have been planted. We started this morning with the girls in her wing. Just a few innocent questions, you know? 'Hey, have you noticed how much time Ayushi is spending with that new guy, Aarav? They seem really close.' We made sure to emphasize that they're from different backgrounds, different cultures."
Sameer chimed in, unable to contain his glee. "We twisted the facts, just like you said. We didn't just say they were working on the project; we implied they were using the project as an excuse. We talked about how a 'traditional girl' like her is suddenly so comfortable being alone with a boy from a village. We painted him as some smooth-talking manipulator and her as the naive girl falling into his trap. The story is spreading like wildfire."
Rajat took a slow sip of his expensive iced tea, the picture of satisfaction. "And the campus network?"
"Primed and ready," Latish confirmed. "The forums are already buzzing with whispers. People are curious. All it needs is a spark to become an inferno. Once we give them something to see, they'll believe everything they've heard. This hot topic will be the only thing anyone discusses for the rest of the week."
"Good," Rajat said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. His eyes flickered across the canteen and met the gaze of a waiter who was nervously polishing a glass behind the counter. The waiter was a lanky, nervous-looking young man who owed Rajat's family a significant debt. Rajat gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. The time was right.
The waiter's face paled slightly, but he squared his shoulders and picked up a tray laden with glasses of freshly squeezed juice. He began his route, navigating the crowded tables with a feigned clumsiness.
At Aarav's table, the mood was light. "No, you're missing the point," Ayushi argued playfully, tapping the screen. "The supply chain model they're proposing is flawed from the very beginning."
"I see the flaw," Aarav countered, a smile in his voice, "but you have to admire the ambition."
Their easy rapport, the way their shoulders almost touched, the shared smiles—it was a picture of innocence. An innocence that was about to be shattered.
As the waiter approached their table, he seemed to stumble, his ankle twisting unnaturally. The tray tilted precariously. "Watch out!" Akash yelled, but it was too late. With a gasp and a clatter, a full glass of bright orange juice arced through the air, landing squarely on the front of Ayushi's pristine white kurti.
The cold, sticky liquid soaked through the fabric instantly, leaving a massive, ugly stain. Ayushi gasped in shock, jumping to her feet.
"Oh my God, I am so, so sorry!" the waiter exclaimed, his voice filled with practiced panic. "It was an accident! I tripped! Please, forgive me!"
Before anyone else could react, Aarav was on his feet. His first and only instinct was to help her. "It's okay, it's just juice," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. He grabbed a handful of tissues from the dispenser on the table. "Here, let me help."
He gently took the edge of her drenched kurti, trying to dab at the stain to prevent it from spreading further. He was focused entirely on her, his expression a mask of concern. "Don't worry, this will come out," he murmured, his voice low and for her ears only. Ayushi, still flustered and embarrassed by the sudden attention, looked up at him, her heart fluttering at his immediate and gentle care.
It was an intimate moment in a public space. His head was bent towards hers, his hands carefully tending to her dress. For a few seconds, they were in their own world.
Click.
The sound was imperceptible amidst the canteen's noise. From his table, Sameer lowered his phone, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. He had the shot. It was perfect. The angle made it look more intimate than it was. Aarav wasn't just helping; he was leaning in, his hand on her dress, her looking up at him with a flustered, vulnerable expression. It was exactly the kind of image that could be twisted into a thousand sordid stories.
"Got it," Sameer mouthed to Rajat, who simply nodded, his eyes gleaming with cold victory. Sameer quickly typed a caption, his fingers flying across the screen:
"Just a 'Project Discussion' in the Canteen? Or Something More? Looks like our university's 'ideal girl' isn't so traditional after all. Some people move fast! #CampusGossip #NotSoInnocent"
He hit 'post.'
The spark had been thrown into the tinderbox.
Aarav, oblivious, had just finished helping Ayushi blot the worst of the stain. "You should go and wash it properly," he suggested softly.
"Yes, I…" Ayushi began, but she was cut off by a sudden, sharp gasp from Akash.
His head was buried in his phone, his face a mask of disbelief and horror. "No way," he muttered. "No freaking way."
"What is it?" Puja asked, leaning over to look at his screen. Her eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God, Aarav…"
Aarav's stomach clenched. He knew that tone. It was the sound of disaster. He and Ayushi moved to look at Akash's phone. On the screen, displayed prominently on the campus network's main feed, was the photo Sameer had taken just moments ago.
The image was damning. The caption was poison. And below it, the comments were already flooding in, a tidal wave of judgment and speculation, fueled by the rumors that had been simmering all morning.
"Wow, I knew it! They are always together."
"In the middle of the canteen? Have some shame!"
"I heard she's just leading him on to get good grades."
"What would her parents say if they saw this? So much for culture."
"He's got his hand on her… that's not for a project."
The whispers had become a roar. The carefully constructed narrative was complete. The photo was the concrete proof that validated every malicious lie. In the space of less than five minutes, Ayushi's reputation was being systematically dismantled and destroyed in front of the entire university.
Aarav felt a surge of white-hot rage so intense it made his vision swim. His fists clenched, and his eyes scanned the room, searching for a culprit. His mind immediately jumped to one name: Rajat. It had to be him. The cruelty, the timing—it all pointed to his brand of vengeance.
He located Rajat's table. But Rajat wasn't looking at them. He was engrossed in a conversation with his friends, laughing at something on his phone, looking for all the world like he didn't have a care. There was no triumphant sneer, no mocking glance in their direction. He was acting completely disconnected from the drama unfolding.
A sliver of doubt pierced Aarav's certainty. This felt different. Rajat was arrogant and direct. His attacks were frontal assaults—thugs in a parking lot, a planted USB drive. He liked to see his victims suffer, to gloat openly. This… this was silent. It was a serpent's strike from the shadows. The meticulous planning, from the pre-emptive rumors to the perfectly timed "accident" and the instant photo upload, suggested a level of cunning and subtlety that Aarav hadn't credited Rajat with. Rajat used a sledgehammer; this was the work of a poisoned scalpel.
If not Rajat, then who? The thought sent a chill down his spine. Who else hated him enough to do this? Who would be so cruel as to target Ayushi just to get to him? The realization that he might be fighting an unknown, dangerously intelligent enemy was far more terrifying than a straightforward battle with a known foe. This person had done it without leaving a single trace.
He had to fix this, but the rage was now mixed with a confusing, disorienting uncertainty. He wanted to console Ayushi, to tell her everything would be okay, even as his mind raced, trying to grasp the identity of the ghost who had orchestrated their public humiliation.
But as he turned to her, ready to offer words of comfort, a hand shot out and grabbed his arm. It was Ayushi.
He looked at her, expecting to see tears, devastation, or fear. He saw none of it. Her eyes, which moments ago were wide with shock, were now blazing with a cold, hard fire he had never seen before. Her jaw was set, and her grip on his arm was firm, resolute. The embarrassment was gone, replaced by a steely determination.
"No, Aarav," she said, her voice clear and steady, cutting through the haze of his anger and confusion. She let go of his arm and took a step forward, her gaze sweeping over the watching, whispering students before settling back on him.
"Let them stare. Let them whisper," she declared, her voice ringing with newfound strength. "This is not your fight. This is an attack on me. On my character."
She took a deep breath, her chin held high. "So let me solve this problem by myself. Who are they to judge me? Who gives them the right to define my character?"
The chapter of her life that was being written with lies was over. She was about to write the next one herself.