Next Morning (Party)
The morning sun streamed into the common room, illuminating specks of dust dancing in the air, which seemed to vibrate with the energy of the impending celebration. After a quick, conspiratorial breakfast, Neerav clapped his hands together, commanding everyone's attention. With a theatrical flourish, he pulled a bashful Kavya to the center of the room.
"In front of everyone," Neerav announced, his voice booming with genuine cheer, "Happy Birthday, Kavya!"
A coordinated chorus erupted from their friends, who had clearly been prepped. "Happy Birthday, Kavya!"
Anvesh, who had been arranging some snacks, looked up, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face. He stepped forward, a slightly apologetic smile on his lips. "I had forgotten! Happy Birthday, Kavya!" he said, his voice softer than the others.
Kavya's smile was radiant, her gaze sweeping over the group but lingering for a fraction of a second on Anvesh. "Thanks, Anvesh. Thanks, guys!" The simple silver moon necklace from Neerav glinted at her throat, a quiet testament to the previous night's secret celebration.
The party kicked into full gear. Someone connected a phone to a speaker, and the room was instantly filled with an upbeat, pulsing rhythm. The air grew thick with the scent of chips, soda, and birthday cake. Laughter and loud conversations overlapped, creating a joyful cacophony. Glasses of cold drink and colorful mocktails were passed around. Anvesh, trying to be a good sport and perhaps overcompensating for his initial forgetfulness, took on the role of the eager host, ensuring everyone had a drink in their hand. He moved through the crowd with a tray, his laughter a little too loud, his gestures a little too broad.
He finally reached Nivan, who was leaning against a wall, observing the festivities with a quiet, content smile.
Anvesh: (Slurring his words slightly, he put a heavy hand on Nivan's shoulder, his tone boisterous and cloying) "You're not getting away today, bro! It's Kavya's birthday... you deserve one peg! Come on, just one!"
Nivan: (His smile became strained, holding up his hands in a gentle but firm refusal) "No, man, seriously, I don't drink. You have fun, it's okay."
Anvesh: (Insisting, his joviality turning pushy. He tried to force a glass into Nivan's hand, the liquid sloshing precariously.) "Hey, what will one drink do? It'll just make you feel good! Take it... take it! Don't be a spoilsport!"
Nivan continued to refuse, his body language becoming rigid with discomfort. But Anvesh, emboldened by his own drinks and a stubborn need to include everyone in his idea of fun, wouldn't let up. His voice grew louder, drawing sidelong glances from others. Seeing the distress on Nivan's face and the escalating pressure from Anvesh, Ruhan, who had been watching from across the room with a deepening frown, felt a protective surge he couldn't ignore.
Ruhan: (Suddenly, his voice cutting through the music like a shard of glass, sharp and clear) "Anvesh, enough! He said no, so don't force him. Back off."
The effect was instantaneous. The person manning the music fumbled and hit pause. The lively chatter and laughter died mid-sentence. All heads swiveled towards the confrontation. An uncomfortable, heavy silence crashed down upon the room, the remnants of the cheerful song echoing ominously in the sudden quiet.
Anvesh: (His face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger, he turned to Ruhan, his eyes narrowing) "Why are you interfering, Ruhan? I was just joking with him! Can't you take a joke?"
Ruhan: (Stepping forward, his posture tense and unyielding, his gaze locked on Anvesh) "It didn't seem like a joke from here. He refused politely, not once, but multiple times. But you weren't listening. That's not joking; that's pressuring."
Nivan: (Feeling the spotlight intensely, he reached out and held Ruhan's arm, his voice a low, urgent plea) "Let it go, Ruhan. Please. It's okay, really."
Ruhan: (He looked at Nivan for a long moment, seeing the quiet plea in his eyes. But instead of backing down, he turned back to Anvesh, his voice dropping to a low, steely tone that brooked no argument) "No. It's not okay. If he doesn't want to drink, he won't. That's the end of it. Understood?"
Throughout this entire exchange, Sadhya was standing in a shadowed corner, a glass in his hand, silently observing it all. He noticed the intensity in Ruhan's defense, the way he positioned himself almost physically between Nivan and Anvesh. It was more than just a friend sticking up for another; it was fierce, almost instinctual. He thought to himself, 'Oh... is that so? This protectiveness... it's new.' But he kept his observations to himself, his expression neutral, simply filing the moment away.
The tense silence stretched for a few more seconds, thick enough to choke on. Anvesh, under the collective gaze of his friends and the cold logic of Ruhan's words, seemed to deflate. The anger drained from his face, replaced by a dawning realization of his own boorish behavior.
Anvesh: (Letting out a long breath, he looked at Nivan, his voice now contrite) "Sorry, man, Nivan. My mistake. I got carried away. I wasn't being serious. It's perfectly fine if you don't drink. No hard feelings."
Nivan: (The relief was visible on his face. He offered a genuine, forgiving smile) "It's okay, bro. Don't worry about it. Chill."
Neerav: (Seizing the opportunity to mend the mood, he clapped his hands together loudly) "Hey, guys! What's the big deal? It's a birthday! Misunderstandings happen. Come on, everything's fine! Start the music again, let's enjoy!"
As the music tentatively started up again, the conversation slowly resumed, though it was more subdued at first. The laughter that followed was a little nervous, but soon, the genuine spirit of friendship began to warm the room again. There was no lasting ill will, only the slight awkwardness of a storm that had passed too quickly.
Ruhan finally looked at Nivan, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes softening into a small, but deeply meaningful smile. It was a smile that said, 'I've got your back.' Nivan didn't need words; his eyes, warm with gratitude and a newfound sense of security, said 'thank you' more eloquently than any speech could. In that silent exchange, an unspoken bond tightened its grip, a connection that was proving to be stronger than any temporary party drama.