The bell echoed through the corridors of school, but today it didn’t bring the usual relief of recess.

Inside the classroom, there was a heavy, unsettling stillness. Students whispered in clusters, eyes flicking toward one seat again and again. That seat belonged to Ridrakshika Verma—and for once, she wasn’t returning the stares with her usual fierce confidence.

Her hands rested on her lap, clenched. Her mind, however, wasn’t in the classroom. It was still trapped in the AV room, replaying the flashing screen… the words that had burned into her memory.

"Stay quiet… or your name goes next on the list."

The projector had flickered off a second later, leaving only gasps and stunned silence in its wake.

What list?

Who sent the message?

And how the hell did they access the AV room system in the first place?

Ridrakshika’s jaw tightened. She wasn’t someone who got scared easily. But this—this was different. This wasn’t bullying. This wasn’t some immature prank. This was a warning.

And worst of all… it was personal.

Across the room, Adyansh sat in silence, eyes fixed on her. There was something unsettling in the way she hadn’t reacted—not outwardly. He knew people like her. Proud. Cold on the outside. But he also knew the look of someone trying too hard not to fall apart.

He wasn’t sure why it bothered him. But it did.

His fists clenched on the desk as that one line from the message rang in his head again:

“Your name goes next.”

Next after whom?

As if hearing his thoughts, Sanskaar leaned toward him. “Bhai… this isn’t just a joke. Whoever did this, they’re trying to shake her.”

Adyansh muttered, “They succeeded.”

Sanskaar hesitated before speaking again. “She should tell someone—school authority, police…”

But Adyansh cut in, eyes narrowed. “She won’t. Tumne uski aankhen dekhi thi kal? She’s scared, but she’ll die before admitting it.”

Just then, Ridrakshika’s phone buzzed. A group notification.

"Sarcastic Squad"

Sanskaar: Meet behind the library. Now. We need to talk.

Without a word, she stood and walked out. She found the trio waiting—Sanskaar, Esha, and… Adyansh.

Ridrakshika stopped, crossing her arms. “This better not be a pity party.”

Esha stepped forward gently. “Ridz, we’re not here to pity. We’re here to figure out who the hell is messing with you.”

Adyansh didn’t speak. He just observed her, like he was searching for cracks in her armor.

“I’m fine,” Ridrakshika said stiffly.

“No,” Adyansh finally said, voice cool. “You’re not.”

She glared at him. “Aur tum expert ho gaye ho meri mental state samjhne me?”

“I don’t need to be,” he shot back. “You’re faking it badly.”

“Bas karo, dono,” Esha said, stepping between them.

Sanskaar added, “Look, someone managed to get into a restricted system. This isn’t just creepy—it’s dangerous. And whoever did it… they’re not stopping here.”

Ridrakshika took a deep breath. “I don’t want this to become a circus.”

“It already is,” Adyansh said darkly. “And you’re the headline.”

There was a moment of silence before Ridrakshika looked up, her voice like steel.

“Fine. Let’s dig. Lekin agar kisi ne meri life ke saath khelna shuru kiya hai, toh uska game main hi khatam karungi.”

In the distance, through the library window, a figure stood silently behind a tree—watching them.

She smirked… and walked away.

-------

A gust of wind blew through the trees as the four of them stood in a semi-circle behind the old library. It was the one spot on campus rarely monitored—quiet, secluded… perfect for planning something that no one else could know about.

Ridrakshika leaned against the wall, arms folded, her sharp eyes darting between the group.

Esha was the first to break the silence. “Okay. Clearly, this isn’t some random threat. Someone went through a lot of effort to get that message on the AV screen.”

Sanskaar nodded. “And did you guys notice? It wasn’t just a message. It was targeted. ‘Your name goes next’? That’s not vague. That’s personal.”

Adyansh, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “First thing we need to know—how many people even have access to that system?”

Sanskaar replied, “Only a few. Faculty. AV team. Tech club. And maybe… some backdoor hacks.”

“Backdoor hacks?” Ridrakshika raised an eyebrow. “Kya ho tum, hacker by night?”

Sanskaar smirked. “Main toh nahi, par kuch log hain jo school ke system ka password bhi churan lein, agar mood ho.”

Adyansh cut in, “Then we need names. Let’s start with the AV club.”

Esha glanced at Ridrakshika, hesitant. “Do you think this… might be someone with a grudge? Like… Tanisha?”

Ridrakshika rolled her eyes. “Please. Usme itna dimaag hota toh apne make-up shades sahi choose kar leti.”

Adyansh bit back a laugh, then added, “Still, the smirk she gave yesterday… it wasn’t innocent.”

“Exactly,” Sanskaar said. “She knows something. Maybe not everything, but something.”

They all fell into thought for a second.

Ridrakshika’s voice turned colder. “So we dig. AV club list, Tanisha’s circle, anyone who’s been acting shady lately.”

“And if we find something?” Esha asked, biting her lip.

Adyansh’s eyes darkened. “Then we hit back. Hard.”

Ridrakshika met his gaze and smirked. “Ab baat ban rahi hai, Mr. ‘I don’t care.’”

Sanskaar grinned. “Operation Expose the Psycho begins.”

They bumped fists—well, except Ridrakshika, who just nodded stiffly.

But beneath all the sarcasm and jokes, one truth lingered in the air.

Someone was watching them.

And the game had only just begun.

---

The silence in the corridor was deafening.

Adyansh walked with Ridrakshika by his side—his jaw locked, her fingers curled into tight fists. Esha and Sanskaar trailed behind, all four of them moving like a unit, their eyes sharp, their minds buzzing with the same chilling thought:

This wasn't a joke anymore.

They stopped at the secluded stairwell near the old storage wing—far from curious eyes and eavesdropping ears.

Sanskaar was the first to speak, his voice low and tense.

"First the biker. Now the AV room. What the hell is going on?"

Adyansh’s eyes darkened as he pulled out the crumpled note from his pocket, reading the words again like they were burnt into his memory:

“Stay quiet, or your name goes next on the list.”

He didn’t say anything—just shoved the note back into his pocket, the lines on his forehead deepening.

Ridrakshika leaned against the cold wall, the chill running deeper than the marble behind her.

“Mujhe laga naya school… naye log… but yeh toh psycho thriller chal raha hai. Mujhe hi kyun target kiya ja raha hai?”

Esha’s voice cracked slightly.

"Rida... what if it’s not just about you? What if someone wants to break you—to shut you up?"

Sanskaar glanced at her sharply.

"And maybe scare the rest of us while they’re at it."

Adyansh’s voice was sharp as a blade.

"Whoever it is... they’re not just watching. They’re in this building. They’re close—too close."

Ridrakshika’s lips curled into a bitter smirk.

"Toh kya karein, detective saab? CCTV check karein ya lie detector le aayein?"

Esha gave a nervous laugh, trying to diffuse the tension, but even she couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes.

"Yaar... sach bolun toh... I don't even trust shadows anymore."

"Good," Adyansh muttered. "Don’t."

Sanskaar suddenly stepped forward.

"Okay, listen. No panic. We handle this smart. Pehle pata lagate hain kaun tha AV room ke aaspaas. Kisi ne toh dekha hoga kuch. Staff list, timetable, kuch toh milega."

Esha nodded quickly.

"Maine kal staffroom ke notice board ki pic le rakhi hai—check kar lenge kis teacher ka kaunsa period tha."

Adyansh: "Main Mehta sir se casually poochunga AV room ke access ke baare mein. We’ll make it look like a project thing."

Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway. They all turned.

Tanisha walked past—heels clicking, eyes narrowed like a cat who knew it had the upper hand. That smirk again—too calm, too confident.

Her gaze briefly met Ridrakshika’s.

And something flickered—dangerous, deliberate.

Ridrakshika didn’t blink. Her voice was low, venomous.

“Yeh smile... pyaar mein hoti toh shayad cute lagti. Ab sirf zeher lag rahi hai.”

Adyansh stood beside her, arms crossed, his eyes never leaving Tanisha’s silhouette.

“Game on, Tanisha.”

For the first time, the four of them weren’t just friends or classmates.

They were a team.

And they were in the middle of something far bigger than they’d imagined.

---

The corridors buzzed with the usual post-lunch chatter, students moving in clusters, unaware of the storm brewing just beneath the surface. But amid the sea of teenage noise, four minds were working like clockwork—calculating, observing, connecting threads.

Ridrakshika, Adyansh, Esha, and Sanskaar had begun their investigation with precision. Every teacher they could speak to, every student who had lingered near the AV room—they were watching everything, registering every subtle shift in expression.

And Tanisha noticed.

She watched them from a distance, her jaw tight. The plan that was supposed to shake Ridrakshika—to break her—was now turning into something else entirely. Instead of fear, that girl was fighting back. And Adyansh—he wasn’t ignoring it anymore. He was... involved.

Tanisha’s smile faded.

In the girls’ washroom, she stood in front of the mirror, reapplying her gloss with practiced ease, but her mind was churning. The AV room had failed. And now they were looking for answers.

No... this can't unravel now. Not when everything was going so perfectly.

Just then, her loyal puppet walked in—Meher. Sweet, gullible Meher who’d do anything to stay on Tanisha’s good side.

“Ek kaam karna hai tumhe,” Tanisha said, her voice sickly sweet, eyes hard. “Staircase ke paas aaj free period mein Ridrakshika jaayegi... I want you to bump into her. Accidental dhakka. She falls. That’s it.”

Meher blinked, stunned.

“Tanisha… agar kuch ho gaya toh—”

“Kuch nahi hoga,” Tanisha snapped. “She’s lucky. She won’t break. Sirf thoda sa trauma... thoda sa distraction. That’s the goal.”

Meanwhile…

On the other end of the building, Ridrakshika walked ahead of the group, climbing the stairs with her bag slung lazily on one shoulder. Adyansh, slightly behind her, was scanning something on his phone while talking to Sanskaar. Esha was pulling her hair up into a bun.

That’s when Meher struck.

She appeared from the opposite hallway, walked briskly—too briskly—and then—

Thud.

Her shoulder rammed into Ridrakshika’s with a perfectly timed nudge. Ridrakshika's balance teetered, her foot slipped on the edge of the step—

Her body lurched forward.

The staircase stretched ahead, merciless and steep.

But before gravity could claim her, a strong arm yanked her back.

Adyansh.

He had moved like lightning—dropping his phone, one hand catching her waist, the other gripping the railing for support as he steadied both of them.

Time froze.

Ridrakshika’s breath hitched in her throat. Their faces were inches apart, his hand still firm around her waist, her fingers clenched around his shirt.

Their eyes locked—something unspoken passing in that silence. Not just shock. Not just relief.

Something deeper.

“Tum theek ho?” he asked, his voice low but rough with panic.

Ridrakshika nodded, her voice barely audible. “Haan... I think so.”

Esha and Sanskaar rushed up behind them, expressions horrified.

“Rida! What the hell just happened?!” Esha cried.

Meher tried to fake concern. “Oh my God, I didn’t see her—so sorry—”

But Adyansh’s eyes didn’t leave meher’s face. Not for a second. His voice was ice.

“Nazar nahi thi ya iraada hi girane ka tha?”

Meher stammered, the guilt practically painted across her face.

Ridrakshika took a deep breath, composing herself, but something inside her had shifted. She wasn’t imagining things anymore.

Someone really was trying to hurt her.

And for the first time… she wasn’t sure she was safe anywhere.

Far away, down the corridor, Tanisha watched everything unfold.

But the smirk on her face?

Gone.

Because this time, Ridrakshika didn’t fall.

And Adyansh had caught her.

---

Tanisha leaned against the corridor wall, eyes locked on the staircase where moments ago, Ridrakshika had nearly fallen—nearly. Her nails dug into her palm as she clenched her fists, her expression blank, but her mind storming.

She had watched it all unfold. Watched Suhani freeze like a deer in headlights. Watched Adyansh—of all people—swoop in and catch Ridrakshika like he was her personal knight.

She wanted to scream.

Instead, she exhaled through her nose and calmly turned away, walking toward the girls’ washroom. The moment the door clicked shut behind her, her calm cracked.

She punched the tiled wall—not hard enough to bruise, just enough to feel something.

Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror—mascara perfect, lips glossed, smile trained to perfection. But her eyes… her eyes were burning.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she whispered. “She wasn’t even supposed to exist in my space.”

And yet here Ridrakshika was—invading everything.

Adyansh’s attention.

Everyone’s sympathy.

The spotlight that used to be Tanisha’s.

She took out her phone and opened her private story list on Instagram—the one only a few trusted “minions” had access to. She typed out a message quickly and added a black background with just one line:

“Time to remind her this world isn’t as safe as it looks.”

Posted. Just enough to send a chill. Just enough to stir questions. And just the start.

She looked at her reflection one more time, forced a smirk, and flipped her hair back.

If Adyansh wouldn’t come to her willingly, she’d make him look her way.

And Ridrakshika? She wouldn't see the next hit coming.

----

Ridrakshika steadied herself, brushing off her skirt like nothing had happened.

Esha looked like she was about to faint. “T-tujhe kisi ne dhakka diya tha, right?! Matlab—what the actual hell!”

“Obviously,” Ridrakshika scoffed, glancing around the corridor with her usual glare. “Accident toh meri walk-in wardrobe mein bhi stylish hota hai, yeh toh saaf saazish thi.”

Sanskaar muttered under his breath, “Someone’s clearly forgotten she’s not in a daily soap.”

Adyansh crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. “Tumhare jaise log hi villain create karte hain, bas bata do kis se panga liya tha abhi recently?”

“Tumse,” Ridrakshika shot back instantly. “But that doesn’t narrow the list, does it?”

Esha stifled a laugh. “Bohot ho gaya, chalo infirmary chalte hain—”

“I’m fine.” Ridrakshika waved her off. “Aise gir jaati toh Earthquake alert chala jaata. Kya height hai meri dekha hai?”

Sanskaar nodded. “Haan, haan. Ego ki height bhi kaafi matching hai.”

Adyansh smirked, “You sure you didn’t trip on your attitude?”

Ridrakshika tilted her head and flashed her signature fake smile. “Trip toh main tumhare intelligence pe bhi kar sakti hoon—kyunki dono exist nahi karte.”

Esha winced, “Arre yaar tum log kabhi normal behave kar sakte ho?!”

Ridrakshika dramatically flicked her hair back. “Normal is overrated. But thank you for the concern, everyone. I’m still intact—bones, brain, and the unbeatable sass.”

As the group laughed it off, none of them noticed the way Tanisha stood watching from the other end of the hallway—eyes dark, lips curled into the slightest smirk.

Game on.

----

As the group began walking toward their next class, the bell ringing in the background, a loud announcement chime buzzed through the school’s intercom system. The corridor stilled as the voice of the Vice Principal echoed over the speakers.

 “All students are to remain in their respective classrooms after the current period. A security issue has been reported. Class teachers will provide further instructions. This is not a drill.”

Ridrakshika’s brows furrowed instantly. “Security issue? Kya matlab?”

Adyansh glanced at her, suddenly alert. “Yeh normal nahi hai.”

Sanskaar’s jaw tightened. “Mujhe lagta hai yeh stair incident se connected hai.”

Before they could speculate further, a teacher appeared at the end of the corridor, calling out, “All of you, back to class. Now. No one moves without permission.”

The squad made their way back reluctantly. The moment they entered their classroom, everyone buzzed with confusion. The room was tense. Then, a prefect rushed in with a white envelope and handed it to Mehta Sir, who opened it and read aloud:

 “This morning, a student of Class 11 has been targeted. It’s not over. The next message will find its way to the right hands. Stay out of it. This is your only warning.”

Gasps rippled across the room. Esha immediately turned toward Ridrakshika, who had gone stiff.

Adyansh leaned in and whispered, “This isn’t random. Yeh kisi ka personal game hai.”

Mehta Sir tried to calm the class, but the damage was done.

Just then, Sanskaar noticed something—the envelope had a faint smudge of lipstick at the corner. Purple. He exchanged a look with Esha.

Esha whispered, “Only one girl wears that shade in this school.”

They didn’t need to say the name. Their eyes drifted toward the back row.

Tanisha, who sat with legs crossed and arms folded, was smiling.

Too much for coincidence.

---

Later that afternoon, in the empty music room—door locked, blinds drawn.

Adyansh, Ridrakshika, Sanskaar, and Esha sat in a semi-circle, their expressions serious for once. The guitar that usually sat beside Ridrakshika remained untouched today.

Esha paced the room like a detective in a crime series.

“Okay, so we agree it’s not a coincidence. First the  AV room message, and now today—stairs. It’s someone from school. Someone watching her.”

Ridrakshika crossed her arms, clearly annoyed but shaken underneath.

“Mujhe bas yeh samajh nahi aa raha... why me? Like kya maine kisi ka ghar auction pe chadhwa diya?”

Sanskaar, surprisingly serious, looked at her.

“You’re not the easiest person to like, but this isn’t normal hate. This is obsession-level.”

Adyansh, leaning against the window, finally spoke—low, calm, and controlled.

“And whoever it is... they’re slipping. That lipstick on the envelope? Amateur move.”

Esha nodded. “Purple. Only one girl flaunts that shade like a peacock.”

“Tanisha,” Ridrakshika and Esha said in unison, with narrowed eyes.

Adyansh raised an eyebrow. “But we don’t have proof. Accusations without evidence? That’s what she would do.”

“Then we gather evidence,” Sanskaar said, finally sitting. “We bait the rat.”

Ridrakshika smirked. “Tum sab toh Mission Impossible ban gaye ho.”

Esha’s eyes twinkled. “More like Mission Tanisha pe Popat Banao.”

Everyone chuckled—just for a second, the tension lifted.

But Adyansh’s voice cut through it.

“Let’s record everything. Tanisha thinks she’s playing us—but now we’ll flip the script.”

They laid out the plan.

Phase 1: Wear mics. Sanskaar could sneak in small recording devices—his cousin was a tech geek.

Phase 2: Pretend to fall apart. Create a fake rift in the squad so the attacker lowers their guard.

Phase 3: Push Tanisha emotionally. Trap her into saying too much—or better, confessing.

And finally, Phase 4: Get proof. Show the school. End this.

As they wrapped up the meeting, Ridrakshika looked at Adyansh, her voice softer.

“Tumne stairs ke paas jo kiya... thanks.”

He didn’t meet her eyes, just shrugged.

“Don’t read too much into it, Rani Baanu. Agar girti toh project ka workload mere sir pe aa jaata.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pura hero banne ke liye villain ki acting bhi kar lete ho tum.”

“Bas, ab mujhe villain ka crown pehna ke romantic monologue mat shuru kar dena,” he retorted.

Esha snorted. “Shut up, both of you.”

They all smiled again—but this time, with a hidden fire.

Because now, the real game had just begun.

That's it for today's chapter 🎀

~shanshya🧿