"Louder," Miss Simran said.
"My name is—" I tried again, but the words wouldn't come out.
"Say it," Miss Simran narrowed her eyes.
"Sit down," she added, impatient.
"Pathetic," Kabir muttered under his breath.
"Pathetic loser — he should die, don't you think?" Arnav sneered.
"He's good for nothing," Nikhil added.
"Don't worry — he'll be done by the semester," Arnav said, "we'll bully him to death."
"Hey, hey, chill," Nikhil said, uneasy. "I've heard student suicides are increasing in India."
Arnav just laughed.
Then Kabir stood up. "So, my name is Kabir Chauhan. I like reading books, writing, movies… and I want to be
an actor," he said, confident and composed.
Everyone looked shocked — his confidence was on another level.
"Tch. I already hate him," Nikhil muttered.
"Haha — he might steal your bird, you know," Arnav teased.
Nikhil smiled. "Without a challenge there's no fun."
"So, we are done with the introductions," said Miss Simran.
"Excuse me, ma'am," a student called out.
"Yes?" Miss Simran replied.
The student muttered something under his breath before speaking clearly, "Ma'am, I have something to announce."
"Go ahead," she said.
"Hello, guys! I'm Aryan Singh, your senior in the third year. We've arranged a welcome party for you all after class in the hall, so make sure you're present," he said, smiling confidently.
All the girls started muttering among themselves, noticing how tall and handsome Aryan was.
"Sure, they will be. Now, begone," said Miss Simran, trying to keep the class under control.
After some time, Miss Simran said, "That's it for today. Class is over now."
Everyone began leaving, murmuring excitedly about the welcome party in the hall. I sat there for a moment, staring at my notebook. After that embarrassing introduction, I felt like disappearing. Maybe I should just go home, I thought.
"Hey, you," Miss Simran's voice stopped me.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied softly.
"You couldn't even introduce yourself properly? It's a basic thing!" she said sharply. "I want a proper introduction in the next lecture. The first thing I'll do is take yours again — I hope you'll be ready by then."
"Okay, ma'am," I mumbled.
"Good. Now begone," she said, waving me off.
I picked up my bag and walked out slowly, my thoughts spinning.
Maybe I'll just skip the next lecture… or come back after a few days. She won't even remember by then, I told myself.
As I stepped through the college gate, lost in my thoughts, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.
"Hey, where are you going?" a familiar voice asked.
I turned — it was Arnav.
"Yeah, where are you going, bastard?" Nikhil added with a mocking grin.
Before I could react, Arnav slapped the back of Nikhil's head. "Hey, shut up! He's my friend," he said with a fake smile.
"You mother—" Nikhil started, but Arnav shot him a look that made him stop mid-sentence.
"Alright, alright," Nikhil muttered, raising his hands.
"I'm sorry for what happened earlier," Arnav said suddenly.
"Yes, yes, we're sorry," Nikhil added quickly.
"Let's be friends from now on," Arnav said, his grin widening.
For a moment, I felt something warm — maybe hope. But deep down, something didn't feel right.
Still, I smiled faintly. "Sure," I said.
"Hahaha! That's the spirit," Arnav laughed, slinging his arm around my shoulder. "Now come on, let's go to the party our seniors arranged for us!"
Their laughter echoed down the corridor as they led the way. I followed, unsure whether I was walking toward friendship… or something else.
We reached the hall.
"Ohhh, that's one huge-ass hall," Nikhil said, his voice echoing.
"Yeah," Arnav nodded, grinning. "What do you think, Roneet?"
"Yes… it's huge," I said quietly.
As we entered, I noticed how beautifully it was decorated — banners, lights, and balloons everywhere. Rows of chairs filled the hall, arranged neatly in front of a small stage.
We found our seats and sat down.
"Hey, our seniors are pretty too," Nikhil whispered, eyeing a group of girls.
"Some of them look tough," Arnav said, smirking. "It's going to be fun."
"What's wrong with you? Why are you checking out the guys?" Nikhil laughed.
"Look at that one," Arnav said, pointing slightly. "He's more jacked than both of us."
I stayed silent, my eyes wandering around the hall. Everyone looked well-dressed, confident, and full of life — like they belonged here.
They all came with dreams, I thought. And me? I just came because I didn't know where else to go.
Then something hit me. Wait… where's Kabir?
I glanced around, scanning every corner, but I didn't see him anywhere.
From all the guys, I thought Kabir would be the one most eager to impress everyone here — but he wasn't even around.
Before I could think more, the lights dimmed slightly and music started playing through the speakers. A spotlight focused on the stage.
Our senior, Aryan Singh, walked up with a microphone in hand, wearing a confident smile. The crowd instantly grew quiet. His presence alone made people pay attention.
He tapped the mic once. "Good evening, everyone!"
The hall erupted with cheers.
He smiled wider. "Welcome to New Horizon College, batch of 2025! I know most of you are nervous, some of you are already bored, and a few of you… probably came just for the party."
Laughter spread across the hall.
"But jokes apart," Aryan continued, his tone softening, "today marks the start of a new chapter for all of you. Some of you might already know what you want to become — filmmakers, actors, producers, editors, or managers. And some of you… might still be figuring it out."
I felt that last line hit me directly.
"That's okay," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "College isn't just about grades or attendance. It's about finding yourself — through the people you meet, the mistakes you make, and the dreams you dare to chase."
A few students nodded, listening closely now.
"Here's a little advice from a senior," Aryan said, pacing the stage. "You'll meet people who'll inspire you, some who'll test you, and some who'll break you down. But the truth is… you'll grow through all of it. So, make memories, build connections, and don't be afraid to stand out. Because in this field — being different is your biggest strength."
Applause filled the hall.
He raised his hand for quiet. "And finally — before we start the fun — remember one rule: respect your classmates, respect your seniors, and most importantly, respect yourself. Because the moment you lose that, everything else starts to fall apart."
He smiled again, stepping back. "Now… let's start the party!"
The hall burst into cheers and whistles. Music blasted through the speakers again, and the crowd came alive.
I clapped too — but deep down, I couldn't help but wonder:
Why do words sound so easy when others say them… but feel so hard when I try?
As the applause faded, Aryan smiled and stepped aside.
A cheerful voice came from the other end of the stage.
"Hi, guys and girls!"
A girl walked up to the mic with a bright smile and confident posture. "My name is Priya, and I'm the co-host for today's welcome party — along with Aryan!"
The crowd clapped again, a few students whistling playfully.
Priya laughed lightly. "Before we get to know you freshers, we thought it's only fair you get to know us first."
Aryan nodded beside her, grinning.
"So," Priya continued, "we've got a few performances lined up by your seniors — dance, music, and maybe even a surprise or two." She winked toward the audience. "Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. This is your first day — make it memorable!"
The crowd erupted in cheers again. The lights dimmed, music started playing, and a group of seniors walked onto the stage as the first performance began.
The seniors performed one by one — singing, dancing, playing instruments. The whole hall pulsed with energy and laughter.
Roneet watched, wide-eyed. How would it feel to be up there? he wondered. To be confident… to be seen.
"They're amazing," he whispered under his breath.
"Crazy, right?" said Nikhil, clapping.
"Crazy? More like clowns," Arnav scoffed. "They're supposed to be seniors, not street performers."
Nikhil placed a hand on his chest dramatically, closing his eyes. "You wouldn't understand, Arnav. You don't know the meaning of art."
Arnav smacked the back of his head. "Art? You were staring at the girl, idiot."
Nikhil bit his tongue. This bastard keeps hitting me for no reason, he thought.
Before their argument could continue, Priya's voice filled the hall again.
"And now," she said, her voice echoing slightly through the mic, "for our final performance — something truly special. We've been preparing for this for weeks."
The lights dimmed. Soft music began — a haunting, slow melody. A spotlight bloomed in the center of the stage, revealing a girl dressed in white.
She moved gracefully, her every step in sync with the rhythm. Her hands floated like petals in the wind; her eyes carried both joy and sadness. It wasn't just dance — it was storytelling.
Soon, more dancers joined her — moving in perfect harmony, spinning, leaping, and flowing like waves across the stage.
The lights changed colors — deep gold, crimson, violet — each one adding emotion to their movements. When the music swelled, they lifted their arms to the ceiling, and the entire hall fell silent.
It was magical.
For a moment, everyone forgot where they were.
"That was Bollywood level," Nikhil whispered, his voice full of awe.
He glanced at Arnav — who sat bored, tapping his foot.
If I want to follow my dreams, Nikhil thought, I should stay away from this guy.
He looked at Roneet, who was still lost in the performance. "Don't you think, Roneet?" he asked.
"Y-yes," Roneet stammered.
I should also stay away from this insecure bastard, he thought silently, glancing at Arnav.
The crowd erupted in applause as the dancers bowed. The girl in white smiled — radiant under the lights.
Roneet didn't clap. He just watched, unable to shake off the feeling that something inside him had just awakened.
"They're so cool… I want to be like them one day," Roneet thought, still staring at the stage as the dancers bowed.
Priya stepped forward, still catching her breath, her smile bright under the lights.
"Aww, what a performance that was!" she said into the mic. "I hope you guys enjoyed what we prepared for you!"
The hall filled with applause and cheers.
"Alright, let's continue further—" she began.
"Wait, wait!" Aryan interrupted, stepping beside her with a grin.
Priya turned, pretending to frown. "What now, Aryan?"
"Well," Aryan said, pacing a little. "We've shown our performances… now it's only fair that we see theirs."
The crowd gasped and laughed. Priya smiled, catching on immediately. "Ohhh, you mean the freshers' performances?"
"Exactly," Aryan said, pointing playfully at the crowd. "Come on, first-years! Don't be shy — this is your moment. Anyone from the audience who wants to sing, dance, act, or just entertain us — come up on stage!"
The crowd erupted into nervous laughter. Some students hid their faces, others whispered excitedly.
Priya laughed. "Yes, yes, don't worry — we don't bite! Think of it as your first chance to shine in front of your seniors."
Aryan leaned toward the crowd, his voice teasing. "Or… are all the freshers scared already?"
That stirred the hall — a few students started cheering, daring each other to go up.
Aryan's words echoed through the hall — "Come on, first-years! Don't be shy!"
Laughter and whispers filled the room. A few students nervously stood up to volunteer.
Then, from my left, I heard Arnav's voice.
"Hey… how about we send him?" he said with a grin, turning toward me.
Nikhil's grin widened instantly. "Oh, that would be fun, wouldn't it, Roneet?"
I froze. My throat felt dry.
"What— what do you mean?" I stammered.
Arnav leaned closer, his smile sharp. "Come on, bro. You've been so quiet all day. Time to show everyone what you've got."
"I-I don't think—"
"Oh, don't be shy," Nikhil teased, his tone half-mocking, half-curious. "It's your moment! Don't you want to be like them?
"Like them? For a moment, my whole body went numb."