The dorm room was a happy chaos.
Riva, Tara, Kabir, Mamta, and Pratham were sprawled across the mattresses, laughing over half-eaten pizza boxes and half-drunk bottles of cola.
Riva's own old regional hits from Dehradun were playing on a Bluetooth speaker, filling the room with a cheerful, folksy vibe. Tara, Kabir, and Pratham didn't understand a word, but they were bobbing their heads and drumming their fingers on the floor, enjoying the catchy beats.
Mamta had drawn a hard line this time — no wild clubbing, no alcohol.
And honestly, none of them even minded.
Tonight was about remembering how far they'd come. About being present. About feeling the happiness clean and raw.
"I still can't believe it," Riva grinned, lying on her stomach and taking a big bite of pizza. "Top 20! We're officially in the big league!"
"You were amazing today," Kabir said, raising his cola bottle like a toast. "Both you and Tara killed it!"
Tara gave a small smile, nudging Riva with her foot.
"Yeah. You didn't sound too bad yourself, Chandiyal."
Riva laughed, knowing that was Tara's way of saying "I'm proud of you."
As the laughter died down for a moment, Kabir asked, teasingly, "So... who are you gonna thank first? God, parents, or... Megha Sinha?"
The room burst into laughter, but Riva only smiled, her face going soft in a way she didn't realize.
"Actually..." she began, sitting up properly. "I owe her a lot. She wasn't... the ice queen everyone says she is. Not to me." She fiddled with her cola bottle, remembering. "After that fight... she didn't exactly comfort me, but she dropped hints. Like... a weird way of saying 'Don't give up.' She showed she believed in me. I think... I think she's a lot kinder than she lets on."
Mamta nodded slowly, thoughtful.
"I agree," she said, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her hand. "People who are too stern on the outside... usually have the softest hearts inside. Megha Sinha puts up walls. Maybe because she has to."
Pratham, who usually stayed quiet during emotional talks, just listened, nodding slightly.
There was something about his silence that made their words feel heavier, more real.
Tara made a face, reaching for another slice of pizza.
"Whatever. Ice queen or not, she's still a pain. I'm in Top 20 today, yeah — but don't expect me to start a Megha Sinha fanclub or anything."
The group laughed again, the tension breaking.
But Riva caught the little flicker of honesty in Tara's voice. Even if she hated to admit it, Tara knew deep down that Megha had been fair. Had given them both a real shot.
The night went on, filled with silly games, inside jokes, and soft music.
After a few hours, around 11 PM, the dorm room was a complete mess.
Empty pizza boxes, cold drink bottles, snack packets — everything was lying around. But the room was silent now, the excitement slowly fading into soft yawns and heavy eyelids.
The boys had already dragged themselves back to their own rooms.
In the girls' shared room, Tara had knocked out on the single bed, snoring softly.
Riva was lying awake on the double bed beside Mamta, who was already fast asleep.
But sleep refused to come to Riva.
Her mind was spinning, thinking about everything that had happened.
She had always dreamed about Megha Sinha.
Sure, she admired many singers, but Megha had always held a special place in her heart — something deeper than just a fan's love for a celebrity.
And now... all of this was real.
That night after the fight, when Megha had spoken to her — it still felt like a blurry, beautiful dream.
Riva frowned slightly, staring at the ceiling.
"She's a superstar... why would she care about someone like me?" she whispered to herself.
And then there was the bathroom incident at the club.
Everyone said she must have imagined it — even she wasn't fully sure.
Her memories were hazy from that night, but something about that soft, careful touch felt too real to forget.
She had wanted to ask Megha about it so many times... but then stopped herself.
"What if I sound stupid?" she thought, biting her lip.
"Why would Megha Sinha, THE Megha Sinha, help me in a club? It sounds so crazy..."
She sighed heavily, shaking her head to stop overthinking.
Quietly, she picked up her phone from the side table and unlocked it.
Without thinking much, she opened Instagram.
As usual, her entire feed was flooded with Megha Sinha's photos and videos.
Every fanclub, every new update — there she was.
Riva smiled without realizing, her eyes soft with adoration.
She tapped on one post, then another.
Finally, she ended up on Megha's official profile — the one with a massive blue tick and 53 million followers.
"Fifty-three million," Riva muttered under her breath, grinning. "And still... maybe... I'm a little special..."
She hugged her pillow, feeling a funny pride bubble inside her chest.
"Megha Sinha herself spoke to me... helped me..."
It felt like a lifetime achievement.
She started scrolling through Megha's posts.
Most were professional — promotions, music shoots, stage performances.
Personal posts were rare. Just a few pictures with her mother — and Riva smiled extra wide at those because she knew Megha loved her mother deeply.
Riva always dreamed about meeting her too, someday.
She knew a little about Megha's complicated relationship with her father.
But Riva respected Megha's privacy — she never tried to dig deeper, even as a fan.
She kept scrolling until her thumb hovered over the "Message" button.
Her heart thudded.
She had thought about messaging Megha many times before... but always stopped.
"Why would she ever see my message?" she used to think.
But tonight... she felt a little bolder.
A little more special.
Smiling shyly to herself, Riva clicked the button.
The empty chat screen opened.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment.
Then, with a deep breath, she started typing.
Maybe Megha was already asleep by now, Riva thought.
Still, with her heart thudding wildly, she finished typing a small message.
Without giving herself more time to overthink, she pressed Send, quickly set her phone aside, and shut her eyes tight.
She wasn't hoping for a reply.
Not even dreaming of it.
She just wanted to get the feelings out.
But even after closing her eyes, sleep didn't come.
Her heart was still dancing crazily inside her chest.
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Megha Sinha was very much awake.
And not even at home.
She was sitting in her usual private booth at The Groove Factory — the same club where it all started.
A glass of wine loosely held in her hand.
The place was buzzing with music and people, but inside her booth, it was strangely quiet.
Because Megha wasn't paying attention to anything.
She was lost.
Completely drowned in thoughts about a certain contestant.
The same girl she had once helped here... in this very club.
Megha groaned under her breath, shaking her head hard as if to physically throw away the thoughts.
She took a small sip from her glass —
Something she had been doing every five minutes for the past two hours.
When she had entered the club earlier tonight, she knew Riva wouldn't be here.
Still... her eyes had automatically scanned the crowd.
Searching.
Hoping.
When she didn't find her, Megha felt two things at once — relief... and a strange sadness.
She gritted her teeth, furious with herself.
"Why am I even thinking like this? She's a contestant. A girl," she muttered bitterly into her glass.
Her brain screamed that this was wrong, unprofessional, ridiculous.
But her heart and mind weren't listening.
Instead, they kept flashing Riva's face in front of her —
That shy smile.
That hopeful, shining gaze.
The way she had looked at Megha... like she was someone special.
Another groan escaped Megha's lips as she set the wine glass down heavily on the table.
She clutched her head in her hands, trying to stop the endless loop of thoughts.
She never did this.
She never overthought.
Especially not about someone.
It was all too heavy.
Too confusing.
Just then, her phone buzzed once on the table.
Normally, she ignored notifications — she got hundreds of them every minute.
But something nudged her to peek with one eye open.
Maybe it was her mother, or her manager.
Megha lazily glanced at the screen —
And froze.
Her eyes snapped open wide.
Her whole body stiffened.
She sat up straight, staring at the notification flashing on her lock screen:
Instagram - @riva_chandiyal sent you a message.
For a moment, Megha just stared at the screen.
Heart thudding.
Mouth dry.
"What the hell..." she whispered to herself, feeling a flutter of panic and something warm spread in her chest.
Slowly, almost afraid, she reached for the phone.