The studio was buzzing with excitement as Tara and Riva walked in for their duet battle. Warm golden lights bathed the stage, giving everything a soft glow. Their names sparkled on big LED screens behind them, and sleek cameras moved smoothly, ready to catch every expression. The Sur Sangram logo shimmered above them, and the crowd was full of energy. The judges' seats gleamed under the lights, and the mic stands stood tall at center stage, waiting patiently. The whole room felt alive—full of nerves, excitement, and the promise of something magical.
Riva's eyes flicked toward the judges' panel, and for a moment, she almost forgot the nerves. Unlike rehearsal days or those casual discussions, today the judges looked like they belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine. Zyan Malik, ever the cool pop icon, lounged in his oversized graphic tee paired with stylish loose-fit pants, his chain glinting under the lights. Rajeev Mishra, dignified as always, wore a simple black coat over a crisp shirt, glasses perched perfectly, exuding an old-school charm. But it was Megha who truly made Riva's breath hitch. She looked… divine. Clad in a black glittery bodycon dress that hugged her figure perfectly, one shoulder bare, it ended just above her knees, paired with elegant matching heels and shimmering earrings. Her hair was left loose, cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. She wasn't just a judge today—she looked like a star, a storm, and something Riva couldn't look away from.
All three judges knew the story behind the pair standing on stage—the tension, the Dillemma, the personal stakes. But today, they wore their professionalism like second skin, their expressions unreadable behind the soft glow of the judging panel.
"Who will sing first?" Rajeev Mishra asked, his tone calm and even, like always.
Tara and Riva exchanged a glance. No words were spoken, but the answer passed silently between them, understood in that quiet language only close friends could speak. Tara stepped forward and looked at the judges. "I'll go," she said with a confident nod.
Riva moved to the side, standing near the edge of the stage, arms folded lightly in front of her, heart beating steadily. The spotlight shifted, falling fully on Tara.
The music began. It was one of Megha's biggest hits—an emotional powerhouse known for its bold transitions and layered vocals. Tara had picked it intentionally, not as a statement, but because it suited her. For all her dislike of Megha as a person, she couldn't deny the influence her music had on her growth as a singer. Their vocal tones were oddly similar—bold, husky, and powerful. And Tara made the song hers.
She sang it with fire.
Her voice didn't just follow the original—it danced around it, playing with dynamics and rhythm, her own variations giving the track new energy. It made Zyan jump in his seat and cheer with a wild grin. Rajeev chuckled under his breath, clearly impressed. And Megha—Megha didn't react loudly, but every time Tara nailed a high, intense note, her eyebrow arched just slightly, a small smirk playing at her lips. She was impressed, even if she didn't say it.
Riva should have been nervous. This was a competition, after all. But instead, she found herself smiling, proud. She had seen Tara rehearse this song a dozen times, but this performance—this energy—was something else. She deserved every bit of the praise she was getting.
As the song ended, applause followed. Zyan clapped with infectious excitement. Rajeev gave a calm but warm round of applause, and Megha… even her clap, controlled and minimal, carried weight. She appreciated good art. Always had.
Tara turned to face them, breathless, eyes shining.
"I guess we already got the winner of this round!" Zyan said with a playful laugh, clapping harder.
"It's too early. Let's hear the other contestant," Megha said coolly, her gaze settling on Riva.
"Yes, I think this is going to be a tough decision," Rajeev added, his tone thoughtful. "I've heard Riva before."
"Let's hear Riva, then we'll decide," Megha concluded, her eyes never leaving Riva's face.
Riva stepped into the center of the stage. As she passed Tara, her best friend pulled her into a quick, tight hug. "All the best."
Riva hugged her back without hesitation. From her seat, Megha's eyes flickered—just a second of something unreadable crossing her face as she saw the warmth between them. Was it envy? Curiosity? She didn't let it show.
And then, the spotlight shifted again.
Riva was in the center now. Tara stepped to the side, mirroring where Riva had stood moments ago.
It was Riva's turn.
Riva started to sing.
Her style was very different from Tara's. Where Tara brought fire, Riva brought calm. She chose an old classical song—one that was simple but deep. The kind of song that needed heart more than power.
From her very first note, the whole studio became quiet. Her voice was soft, sweet… like honey. She sang with her eyes closed, her face peaceful. Her voice flowed smoothly, without too much drama. She didn't try to show off. She just felt the song. She added small touches of her own, but she stayed true to the original melody.
Even the high notes weren't loud—they were beautiful. The kind that made people close their eyes and listen deeply. The kind that made the heart feel full.
The mood of the stage changed completely. After Tara's strong performance, the room had been full of energy. But now… everything slowed down. It felt calm, still, almost sacred.
Zyan, who was always full of energy, just stared at Riva quietly. Rajeev had his eyes closed, like he was meditating. And Megha… Megha didn't move at all. Her pen was still in her hand, forgotten. Her eyes were fixed on Riva, her face serious, but soft.
Tara watched from the corner. A small smile appeared on her face. She was proud.She whispered to herself, "You're doing it, Riva."
As the last note faded, silence took over again. No claps. No cheers. Just a still moment.
Riva looked nervous. Did they not like it?
She looked at Tara. Tara gave her a warm smile and nodded.
And then—
Everyone stood up. One by one. The whole studio filled with claps and cheers.
Zyan clapped with emotion, his eyes shiny. Rajeev clapped like a proud teacher. And Megha… Megha clapped slowly, with deep respect. Her eyes soft, and a real smile on her lips.
Riva looked around, surprised, a little overwhelmed.
But happy.
She had poured her heart into that song.
And everyone had felt it.
As the claps slowly faded, the room calmed down. Everyone settled back in their seats.
Tara walked up and joined Riva on stage.
"Ahh, first of all, Riva… wow," Zyan said, his voice full of genuine feeling. "What a beautiful voice you have. I'll be honest—I'm not a fan of old melody songs. But you made me feel something. You reminded me how quietly powerful they can be."
Riva smiled and bowed her head slightly in thanks. Megha and Rajeev nodded, smiling too.
Zyan threw his hands in the air playfully. "And now I'm confused, Tara! What do I even do?" He said with mock frustration, making everyone laugh—Tara, Riva, even the other judges.
Rajeev leaned forward, speaking thoughtfully. "Tara chose one of Megha's boldest, most energetic songs and owned it. And Riva… she met that level with something so opposite, yet just as strong. It didn't feel like a battle—it felt like two artists giving their best in their own way."
"Exactly," Megha added, raising an eyebrow. "All the earlier pairs were from similar styles. Choosing between them was easy. This?" She gave a small smirk. "This pair isn't even a match. Whoever made this pairing clearly wanted to stir drama."
She was teasing—but there was truth in her words.
Zyan chuckled and shrugged. "If it was up to me, I'd select both of you." He looked at the other judges. The girls held their breath—just a little.
Megha turned serious. "That would be fair," she said. Her voice calm, but steady. She glanced briefly at Riva, remembering their earlier conversation. "And it's possible."
She clicked her pen and started writing on her clipboard.
"We should never waste talent," she said. "I'm putting my vote in for both of you. Now it's on the others."
She looked up at Riva for a second longer than necessary. Riva gave her a genuine, pretty smile. Megha's heart fluttered. She quickly looked down. Was she blushing? No—she looked back up with her usual calm face.
"If it's possible," Zyan chimed in, "then it's a big yes from me too." He grinned and wrote something as well.
The girls' faces lit up with hope.
Rajeev smiled, shaking his head. "Well, I'm outnumbered already. But yes, from me too. Still, since this is an exception, we'll need a short meeting with the production team."
Riva and Tara nodded.
The three judges stood up and left for the side room labeled 'Management.'
As soon as they left, Riva turned to Tara and grinned. "See? She's not as bad as you make her out to be."
Tara rolled her eyes but smirked. "Seriously? This is the moment you choose to praise your stupid crush?" Then, softer, "Okay fine… maybe she's not a great person—but she's a great artist."
The doors opened again. The judges walked back, faces unreadable.
There was silence.
Then Zyan stepped forward, holding two golden cards. "We had a word with the team… and we've reached a decision." He paused, then smiled wide. "Congratulations. You BOTH are going to the Top 20! Now Top 21"
Riva and Tara gasped in delight, eyes wide. They jumped and hugged each other, squealing with joy.
They rushed to the judges' table. Zyan handed them their golden cards.
"You earned it," he said, giving them a quick wink.
They shook hands with Rajeev next, who patted their backs warmly.
Then came Megha.
Riva stepped forward, her smile soft and sincere. "Thank you so much," she said.
Megha held her hand a bit longer, her eyes meeting Riva's. "You both did genuinely great," she said, voice quiet but warm. A rare smile touched her lips.
Tara nudged Riva with a glare that said don't get lost in her eyes, and Riva quickly stepped back.
As the girls walked out cheering, full of joy, Zyan turned to Megha with a teasing grin and wiggled his eyebrows.
Megha rolled her eyes—but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.