The day of culturals arrived like a festival. The school was decked in streamers, banners, and the faint scent of jasmine and sweat. Students buzzed about in kurtas, lehengas, and dance costumes, shouting over the loudspeakers and last-minute announcements.
Backstage, Karthik was panicking.
"Why am I doing this?" he muttered, fixing the simple black kurta they'd given him. "I'm not built for this."
"You're doing it because you trust me," Ananya whispered behind him, her presence grounding him.
She was dressed in a maroon half-saree with golden borders, bangles chiming softly as she adjusted her anklets. "You're not going to dance. You're going to express. You'll just stand there and act like you're feeling emotions."
He gave her a flat look. "You know that's worse, right?"
She laughed, and her hand reached for his briefly. "You'll be brilliant. Because it's not acting. Just be you."
Minutes later, the lights dimmed. A spotlight fell on Karthik as soft instrumental music began to play. Ananya entered the stage like poetry, her movements flowing with grace.
Their piece told a story—of a lonely boy weighed by darkness, and a girl who danced her way into his heart and lit his shadows.
Karthik didn't forget a single cue. He didn't fumble, didn't freeze. When the moment came where he was supposed to reach for her hand under the spotlight, he did it without hesitation.
The applause was thunderous.
Backstage, Karthik collapsed on a chair, panting. "I think I almost had a heart attack."
Ananya rushed to him, giggling. "You didn't. You were amazing."
He looked up at her. Her smile. Her eyes. That proud gleam she always had when she saw the real him.
He whispered, "Thanks… for letting me share your stage."
She tilted her head. "It's not my stage anymore. It's ours."
And in that moment, surrounded by chaos, confetti, and the glow of a hundred stage lights, Karthik realized something:
He no longer belonged in the shadows.
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End of Chapter 74