— Pihu's POV
If someone ever writes a survival guide for college,there should be a full chapter called:
"Never trust a quiet evening."
Because that's how it always starts.
That Friday night, Room 407 was calm.
Too calm.
Nandini was reading.Ananya was editing something.Meher was on her laptop, face serious.I was counting my tips from BrewPoint and feeling strangely adult.
That's when Aarush knocked.
Not softly.
Like he was announcing a disaster.
"Emergency," he said dramatically. "Who here is brave?"
Meher didn't look up.Ananya sighed.Nandini blinked.
I stood.
"What kind of brave?" I asked.
"The illegal fun kind."
That's how we ended up on the old academic block terrace at 12:47 a.m.
The building was under renovation. Technically restricted. Definitely stupid.
Also… perfect.
Mumbai at night spread in front of us like a secret.Lights. Wind. Distant horns. A sky that felt closer than usual.
Someone had brought a speaker.Someone had brought momos.Someone had brought terrible ideas.
Students from different departments sat in small groups.Someone played guitar.Someone sang badly.Someone laughed too loudly.
For the first time in weeks, I didn't feel like a worker.Or a daughter.Or a problem solver.
I felt like a nineteen-year-old on a roof.
Ananya stood near the edge, recording the skyline.Meher leaned against the wall, hair open, eyes thoughtful.Nandini sat cross-legged near the ledge, watching people more than the view.
I moved between groups, joking, stealing food, making friends.
That's when I saw him.
Raghav.
Third year. Sports quota.The kind of guy who looks like trouble but talks like peace.
He was sitting a little away from the crowd, fixing the loose wire of the speaker.
I don't know why I walked there.
I just did.
"Electrician vibes," I said.
He looked up and smiled. "Emotionally or technically?"
"Both," I replied. "What broke?"
"Sound," he said. "And probably rules."
I laughed and sat beside him.
We talked.
Not big things.
College.Work.How tired everyone secretly is.How no one wants to go home the same person.
Then suddenly, shouting.
"WARDEN."
The word ran across the terrace faster than fear.
Everything exploded.
People grabbed bags.Music cut.Someone swore.Someone almost fell.
I stood up too fast.
My foot slipped on gravel.
For half a second, my stomach dropped.
Then a hand caught my wrist.
Strong. Immediate. Certain.
Raghav pulled me back.
"You okay?" he asked, breath close, eyes serious.
My heart wasn't.
It was doing something very stupid.
"Yeah," I said. "Just… alive."
We laughed.
Below us, whistles blew.
We ran.
Down dark stairs.Through half-lit corridors.Holding laughter in our mouths like secrets.
We didn't get caught.
We got adrenaline.
Back in Room 407, all four of us collapsed on beds, breathless.
"That," I said between laughs, "was better than therapy."
But when I lay back and stared at the ceiling, one thing stayed with me.
Not the view.
Not the fear.
The feeling of being held before I even knew I was falling.
And that scared me more than the terrace.
Because I didn't have space for anything else in my life.
But something had just walked into it anyway.