Goa Resort - Private Beach Set | Next Morning
The sun rose golden and sharp over the waves, casting warm flecks of light across the glistening white sand. The production team was already bustling, setting up cameras, reflectors, musical equipment, and props beneath the shade of tall palms and draped canopies.
It was a high-budget shoot meant to promote the luxury of the resort-romance, music, indulgence-all under one dreamy roof. Mihir Kashyap's presence was the campaign's crown jewel.
Maira moved briskly along the set, clipboard in hand, coordinating with the crew as Mihir sat in a velvet beach recliner getting his light makeup touched up. His rockstar aura was intact-messy, deliberate hair, an open linen shirt, sunglasses, and that constant, knowing smirk.
She approached him with a bottle of water and a page of the day's schedule.
"Sir, the team says they're almost ready. Just a few lighting tests remaining," she said professionally, standing at a polite distance.
Mihir turned his face to her slowly and offered a crooked smile. "Good. Then go get dressed."
Maira blinked. "Excuse me?"
"For the shoot," Mihir said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're performing it with me."
She stared at him, caught off guard. "But... why me, sir? Urvi is here and-"
"I agree," Urvi chimed in sweetly, appearing from behind the canopy with perfectly curled hair and a floral robe. "I mean, it makes more sense for me to be in it. I've done ad shoots before."
Mihir cast her a quick look-sharp, silent, commanding. Urvi faltered, reading the signal instantly.
"Actually..." she corrected, turning to Maira with a faintly smug smile, "maybe it's better if you do it. New face, fresh chemistry. You'll be fine."
Maira's brows furrowed. "But I'm your assistant. Not a model."
Mihir leaned forward slightly, removing his sunglasses, locking his eyes with hers. "And as my assistant, you do what I say. Don't you?"
Maira hesitated.
Without waiting for further protest, Mihir snapped his fingers and gestured to the stylist. "Give her the dress."
The stylist handed her a hanger draped with a flowing, sensuous crimson outfit-beachy but undeniably bold.
Maira took it reluctantly, her heart racing.
As she walked toward the changing cabin, she muttered under her breath, "Why not use your 'baby' Urvi for this?" She felt ridiculous. Her job had nothing to do with being in front of the camera.
Inside the cabana, she changed slowly, her fingers pausing at every clasp.
Her reflection stared back from the mirror, unsure and newly exposed.
She inhaled. "It's just an ad. A professional shoot. Don't let anyone make you feel small. If you act nervous, they'll laugh."
She squared her shoulders and stepped out.
The crew paused. A hush rolled across the set.
Even Mihir, who had clearly orchestrated this moment, paused as his gaze swept over her. For a second-just a flicker-his smirk faded.
Maira stood tall, letting the morning light catch the gold embroidery on her waist, the breeze teasing strands of her loose hair. Her eyes met Mihir's coolly, determined not to flinch under the scrutiny.
Mihir exhaled slowly and looked away, signaling the director. "Let's roll."
But as he stepped forward toward her, Urvi watched from the side, seething silently-her painted smile hiding a storm that was just beginning.
Hansraj College - Midday
The afternoon sun filtered through the arched hallway windows, casting long shadows along the tiled corridor. Students bustled from one class to the next, laughter and chatter echoing faintly off the cream-colored walls.
Teju walked briskly, a few books in hand, her shoulder bag slung casually as she headed for her next lecture. Her mind was still on the strange unease from last night-the voice, the chill in the hallway, the shadows that felt just a little too close.
As she passed the library wing, a soft tap landed on her shoulder.
She turned.
A boy, maybe around twenty-two, dressed in casual college wear, gave her a polite nod and pointed toward a nearby room with its door slightly ajar.
"Someone was asking for you," he said with an innocent tone. "Told me to send you there."
Teju looked at the door. It wasn't a classroom. It looked more like one of the old storage rooms the college rarely used. A small plaque next to it had faded letters. Room 106-B.
She frowned. "Who was it?"
But when she looked back, the boy was gone-vanished into the stream of students.
Teju's brows drew together. "Weird..."
She turned back to the door. Her instincts whispered unease, but her pride rose to match it.
Is this someone trying to bully me? A stupid prank?
She adjusted the strap on her bag, muttering, "Well, if someone thinks I'm that easy to scare-they've chosen the wrong girl."
Hansraj College - Old Corridor - Afternoon
The warm hum of student voices faded behind her as Teju paused in front of the slightly ajar door of Room 106-B. It looked like an old storage room-forgotten and shadowy, tucked between the science wing and the abandoned lab corridor.
Her brows furrowed.
Why would someone call me here?
Was it a prank? Some kind of stupid dare?
Still, the boldness in her chest outweighed her doubt. She reached out and nudged the door further open.
The room was dim, lit only by a shaft of light filtering in through high, barred windows. Dust particles swirled in the stillness, and the air smelled faintly of rust and old paper.
Teju took a tentative step inside. "Hello?"
No reply.
She turned slightly to check behind her-just in case. But the hallway outside was now empty. The boy who had sent her here was nowhere to be seen.
Weird.
With a cautious sigh, she turned back-and that's when it happened.
The door slammed shut behind her with a bone-jarring thud.
She jumped, spinning around. Her hand flew to the handle, but the moment her fingers touched it, a soft shimmer rippled through the metal.
And then-
The handle vanished.
Right before her eyes, the entire door seemed to blur at the edges, morphing into a seamless part of the wall, as though it had never existed.
Her breath hitched. "What...?"
She stepped back, her pulse racing, panic beginning to rise in her throat.
A low hum vibrated through the walls. Cold air brushed the back of her neck.
But no one was there.
No voice.
No presence.
Just silence.
And behind the hidden corners of the ceiling, Sunehri clung to the wall like a shadow, her body camouflaged, her breath silent, her eyes glowing faintly gold. She watched.
She waited.
The door is sealed.
Bishwa is finally in my trap.
And far below, in the quiet stillness of the locked room, Teju remained completely unaware of the supernatural web closing in on her.
Goa Resort - Beachside Set - Afternoon
The cameras rolled. Soft wind tugged at sheer curtains that flowed from bamboo canopies erected on the beach. The ocean shimmered gold under the slanting afternoon sun, the scene bathed in a glow that felt almost too perfect.
Maira stood barefoot on the warm white sand, dressed in the sensuous attire Mihir had chosen. Her confidence masked her anxiety-chin raised, expression calm-but her fingers twitched slightly behind her back. She hadn't signed up for this. Yet, here she was.
Across from her stood Mihir Kashyap.
Casually flawless in a linen shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease the idea of intimacy, his eyes locked on hers not with curiosity-but intensity.
And then... the music began.
🎵
"Sasein meri, saansein nahi...
Tere liye bani..."
🎵
His voice wrapped around the lyrics like silk. Deep, smooth, intimate. Maira hadn't known he could sing like this.
🎵
"Baatein meri, baatein nahi...
Tere liye bani..."
🎵
He reached out slowly, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek-like the motion was meant for the camera, but his eyes... his eyes never left hers.
Maira felt her breath hitch for a second. Not because of him. But because of how closely he was looking at her-as if she was no longer just a participant in an ad, but the muse for every word he sang.
🎵
"Raahat si dedu tujhe, dil kahe...
Aadat si banaa loon tujhe, dil kahe..."
🎵
They moved-her stepping back in rhythm, him following. The choreography was subtle. Minimal. Intimate. Maira's saree fluttered in the sea breeze as Mihir circled her.
🎵
"Tere liye hi toh dhadke dil mera...
Tujhse hi toh main, khud se hoon mila..."
🎵
He reached out again, this time taking her hand in his, pulling her gently closer. Their fingers intertwined.
🎵
"Tu Aashiqui...
Tu Aashiqui..."
🎵
Maira looked away briefly, trying to hold onto professionalism, but the lyrics burned against her skin. Every movement, every glance, was steeped in a chemistry she didn't ask for-but couldn't deny.
Behind the camera, the crew was silent-entranced. Even Urvi, standing far behind the lens, clenched her fists as she watched Mihir lower his forehead gently to Maira's.
🎵
"Tere sapno ko main apna banao
Har pal tujhko main jeena chahoon..."
🎵
As the song reached its crescendo, Mihir slowly spun her, pulling her close against him in one fluid, practiced movement. Their breaths mingled. Their closeness electric.
🎵
"Tu Aashiqui...
Tu hi zindagi...
Safar tu mera...
Manzil tu..."
🎵
And just as the final note lingered-
A flash.
A camera click. From a distance, unseen by them, a hand lowered a phone after snapping a picture of the final romantic pose-Mihir's arm around Maira, their bodies close, eyes half-closed in a moment too perfect to be scripted.
The director yelled, "Cut!"
Applause erupted from the crew.
Maira pulled slightly away, flustered but hiding it well. "Did I... do it right, sir?"
Mihir looked at her, eyes unreadable. The smirk played at the corner of his lips again. "Better than expected."
Urvi stormed off, jaw clenched.
And somewhere far off, whoever took that photo... smiled.