The annual inter-school cultural fest was held at a prestigious school in the heart of the city. It was the kind of event that pulled in the best from every corner of Chennai—dancers, speakers, artists, and dreamers.
Karthik had never stepped into such a bustling crowd of talent before. He clung to the edge of the auditorium, eyes wide, feeling like a tiny dot in a sea of dazzling stars.
But Ananya was glowing.
She moved like she belonged here—confident, admired, cheered on. Dressed in a graceful green kurti with minimal makeup and a small jasmine strand in her braid, she looked effortlessly radiant. Girls from other schools greeted her with hugs; boys tried awkward small talk. She smiled politely but didn't linger.
Karthik watched from a distance, clutching the corner of his sketchbook. He had reluctantly signed up for the on-the-spot drawing competition, thanks to Ananya's persistence. "Just try," she'd told him, "even if you don't win. You deserve to be seen too."
He hadn't believed her. But here he was.
Before the event began, she found him sitting alone in the corridor, sketchbook open, fingers trembling slightly.
"Nervous?" she asked, sitting beside him.
He nodded. "Everyone here looks like they know what they're doing."
"So do you," she said simply. "Even if you don't feel it."
She paused, then took something from her bag. A tiny paper crane, neatly folded. "For luck," she smiled. "And for courage."
He stared at the crane for a second, then smiled shyly. "You made this?"
"I was bored in class," she shrugged. "Also, I kind of had a feeling you'd overthink today."
He tucked the paper crane into the corner of his sketchbook. "Thanks… for being here."
She bumped her shoulder into his. "Always."
The event started. Karthik's hands were still shaky, but as the clock ticked, his lines grew steadier. He lost himself in the rhythm of graphite on paper, pouring emotions he couldn't say into strokes and shadows.
When the results were announced later that evening, Karthik didn't win. He didn't even place.
But Ananya came running to him with a bright smile. "They displayed your drawing near the entrance," she said, panting a little from the sprint. "Everyone loved it. I heard two students arguing whether it was symbolic or realistic. You started a conversation."
He blinked. "Really?"
"Really," she grinned. "You didn't win the medal. But you made an impact. That's rarer."
Karthik looked at her—eyes sparkling, hair a little messy from the excitement—and felt something shift inside him. Like he was stepping out of the shadows, inch by inch.
Not just because of the crowd.
But because she believed in him, even when he didn't.
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Chapter 94