3. A Ray of Hope

Kiara Poddar sat on the couch, fidgeting with her phone as the family gathered in the living room. Her enthusiasm was almost palpable, her excitement barely contained. Her favorite rockstar, Rudra, was performing in Dehradun, and she couldn’t imagine missing it.

However, her excitement was quickly overshadowed by the one hurdle she couldn’t overcome—her family.

“Kiara, stop fidgeting and tell us what’s on your mind,” Charu said, setting her cup of coffee down and leaning back into the armchair.

Kiara perked up, her large, hopeful eyes darting between Abhira and Charu, who was seated on the adjacent couch, flipping through a case file.

“Okay, so, hear me out!” Kiara began, leaning forward dramatically. “Rudra’s performing in Dehradun this weekend. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I have to go. But…” She trailed off, glancing nervously toward Abhira.

Abhira raised an eyebrow. “But what?”

“But Armaan bhai and the rest of the family won’t let me go alone!” Kiara burst out, throwing her hands up in frustration. “They’ll make a big deal out of safety  and blah blah blah.”

“And rightly so,” Charu interjected without looking up from her file. “You’re 19, Kiara. It’s not safe for you to travel alone for something as trivial as a concert.”

Kiara groaned and plopped back into the couch dramatically. “I knew you’d say that! But that’s why I have a solution.” She turned to Abhira, her eyes pleading. “Bhabhi you and Charu di can come with me! Problem solved!”

Abhira almost choked on her coffee. “What? Me? At a rock concert? Kiara, have you lost it? I have no interest in screaming fans or loud music.”

“And I certainly have no interest in chasing after a moody rockstar,” Charu added, finally looking up from her file. “I have work to do.”

Kiara looked between the two, her expression desperate. “Come on, please! bhabhi, you hardly go out anymore, and this could be fun! And Charu di you work all the time. Don’t you deserve a break? It’s just one evening! You don’t even have to enjoy the music—just come as my chaperone!”

Abhira sighed, glancing at Charu, who looked equally unimpressed. “Kiara, I don’t think—”

“Please, please, please! I’ll do anything! I’ll clean your room, I’ll run your errands, I’ll even stop borrowing your clothes without asking!” Kiara begged, clutching charu's hand dramatically.

Abhira laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You really want this, don’t you?”

Kiara nodded earnestly. “More than anything! Rudra is…he’s different. His music…it speaks to me. It’s not just a concert; it’s an experience. Please, bhabhi ,please di!”

Abhira glanced at Charu, who was still frowning but looked like she might be softening. “What do you think?”

Charu sighed, closing her file with an air of finality. “I think Kiara won’t stop pestering us until we say yes. And honestly, I could use some distraction from work.”

Kiara squealed, jumping up to hug Charu and Abhira in turn. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You two are the best!”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Abhira said, smiling reluctantly. “We haven’t told Armaan or the family yet. "

Kiara’s face fell slightly, but she quickly brightened. “Leave that to me! You just say you’re coming, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Charu shrugged and said fine.

Kiara beamed, already planning her outfit for the evening. Little did any of them know, the concert would be more than just a musical experience.

For Abhira and Charu, it would be the beginning of an unexpected encounter with the man behind the music—Rudra—and the secrets he carried.

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The winding roads of Dehradun were silent, save for the hum of a motorbike roaring through the cool night air. Rudra  Sharma gripped the handlebars tightly, his knuckles white, his jaw clenched. His bike zoomed past trees and empty streets as he leaned into the sharp curves.

This was his therapy, his escape from the chaos of fame. When the world felt overwhelming, and people made demands he couldn’t stomach, he found solace in the rush of speed and the quiet it brought to his restless mind.

Earlier that evening, his organizers had insisted he add a scripted kiss with a random girl to his performance to stir up headlines.

“No chance,” he had snapped, his tone cold. “I don’t need this nonsense to stay relevant.”

Their insistent arguments had only fueled his anger. “Do whatever you want, but I’m not playing your dirty PR games,” he had said before storming out.

Now, the open road was his reprieve. The faster he went, the quieter his thoughts became. The biting wind against his face numbed the fury in his chest.

Just as he was beginning to feel the calm seep in, a car swerved into his path, headlights glaring. he rounded a sharp bend, a car suddenly appeared in front of him, coming the wrong way on the one-way road. His heart leapt, and he slammed on the brakes, the bike screeching to a halt mere inches from the car’s bumper.

Rudra pulled off his helmet, his jaw clenched in irritation. He stormed toward the car, ready to unleash his fury.

Inside the car, Abhira, Charu, and Kiara were frozen, their eyes wide with fear. Charu, who was driving, clutched the steering wheel tightly, while Kiara’s mouth hung open, unable to believe who was approaching their car.

Rudra knocked on the driver’s side window, his expression livid.

The driver’s window rolled down to reveal three women inside, visibly startled. Rudra pointed at the car and shouted, “WTD! DIMAAG gone kya? Road OWTHA”

Charu, sitting behind the wheel, looked confused. “?What did he just say?”

Abhira, seated beside her, frowned, her sharp gaze locking with Abhir’s. “Uh! WTD-  Want to die? And Road OWTHA?  Road one way  tha? Oh shit sorry” she shouted decoding his short forms instantly

Rudra froze for a second, stunned. It wasn’t often someone deciphered his short forms so effortlessly.

Kiara’s jaw dropped further as she whispered to Charu, “Bhabhi is decoding Rockstar Rudra's language!”

Charu, however, was unimpressed. “Great. A rude man shouting at us in riddles. Koi yeh Rockstar ko batao ki public manners bhi koi cheez hoti hai!”

Rudra ignored Charu’s remark and stared at Abhira, his anger momentarily forgotten. “How... How did you understand? No one understands my short forms. Tum kaun ho?”

Abhira folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Main woh hoon jo tumhare nonsense tolerate nahi karegi. Tumhare short forms ho ya long forms, mujhe farq nahi padta. Tum aise daantne se pehle aaram se hummari baath toh sunte .”

Rudra blinked, momentarily stunned. He had never met someone who could not only understand his eccentric language but also challenge him so boldly.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to regain control of the situation. “Ha, toh kya? Tumhe NDS!”

Abhira raised a brow. “NDS - No Driving sense ? Our headlights were on! Tum BBSP!  Band karo"

"Baseless Bakwaas Shortcuts Pe! Nahi karunga ”Rudra fumed.

Abhira froze, her mouth slightly open in shock. “Tum bhi mere short forms samajh gaye?”

Rudra smirked as if he won.

"No way! Fluke tha" Abhira said.

““Let's see, PRBK?” he muttered, testing her.

“Pretty rude behavior, kya? Shutup you're the one rude here” Abhira shot back instantly.

“SPG,” he countered, narrowing his eyes.

“Stop playing games, No I'm not” Abhira crossed her arms.

Rudra was speechless. This woman was decoding his language like it was second nature.

Meanwhile, Kiara finally found her voice, squealing with excitement. “Oh my God! YOU’RE RUDRA SHARMA! The Rockstar!”

Rudra barely acknowledged her, still locked in the verbal duel with Abhira. “RBEK?” he tried again.

Abhira smirked decoding again“Rude behavior end karo.”

Charu groaned. “Enough of this you both! You Rockstar ya koi bhi ho, tumhe yeh haq nahi hai ki tum meri bhabhi se aise baat karo!”

Rudra turned to Charu, his annoyance resurfacing. “Rules break karne ka haq tha toh yeh kyun nahi?”

Charu glared at him, her voice icy. “Tumhe sab samajh aa jayega agar tumse zyada insaaniyat aur kam gussa hote!”

Charu, her gaze fixed on Abhir. “Dekho, hum galti se wrong way mein aaye honge, but tumhare gusse ka solution nahi hai. Hum bas concert ke venue ke paas ka hotel dhundh rahe the.”

Rudra tilted his head. “Concert? Tum mere concert ke liye yahan ho?”

Charu gave a nonchalant shrug. “Haan, mera chhoti behen Kiara tumhari badi fan hai. Uske liye aaye hain.”

Kiara blushed, barely able to contain her excitement. “I’m your biggest fan Rudy!”

Rudra waved her off, his focus still on Abhira who was behind Charu. Something about her felt...familiar.

“Hotel aage mil jayega stay keliye aur road theek se use karo,” Rudra muttered before turning to leave. But as he walked away, his mind churned. Who was this woman who could understand him so effortlessly?

Abhira watched him go, her heart pounding. Was this just a coincidence, or was there more to this strange encounter?

Charu scoffed. “Rockstar ho ya jo bhi ho, manners toh bilkul zero hai.”

Kiara, still in her daze, whispered, “Oh my God, I’m never washing my eyes again! Rockstar Rudra Sharma ne humein dekha!”

Abhira didn’t say a word. Her mind was already spinning, connecting dots she didn’t even know existed.

In the car, Kiara was still gushing about her interaction with her idol. “Bhabhi, aap samajhti ho? Rockstar Rudra Sharma! Hamare saamne! Aap itni cool kaise reh sakti ho?”

Abhira, however, was lost in thought. That exchange had unsettled her in ways she couldn’t explain. There was something about him—the way he spoke, the fire in his eyes—that tugged at her heart.

And he just spoke like her?

How could he decode her shortforms so easily?

Even Armaan could never catch it most times.

Could he be her AB? She pushed the thought away, shaking her head. It couldn’t be that simple.

Charu sighed. “Woh banda itna rude kaise ho sakta hai? Star hai toh kya? Basic manners toh honi chahiye.”

But Abhira didn’t respond. Her mind was too full of questions—and a growing, unshakable suspicion.