The results came on a Thursday afternoon.

Vinna didn't want to check. But she did.

She always did.

Her coaching center's mock test report sat on her screen like a punishment. She scrolled through the PDF slowly, hoping the marks were just misaligned. A typo. A technical glitch.

But there it was, bold and cruel.

Score: 391 / 720
Rank: 2,413 in batch
Physics Section: 41/180

Her fingers clenched the edge of the desk.

She had studied so hard. Revised till her eyes burned. Skipped meals. Canceled calls. Said no to weddings, birthdays, life itself.

And still — this.

That evening, her mother knocked twice before entering her room.

"You've been quiet," she said softly.

"I'm fine," Vinna replied, her voice too sharp to be true.

Her mother didn't push. Just placed a bowl of kheer next to her, rubbed her back gently, and left.

Vinna stared at the bowl until it turned cold.

Later that night, her phone buzzed.

Rishi [9:28 PM]:
"Saw the test mail. You okay?"

She didn't reply right away. What was she supposed to say? That she wanted to cry? That she'd rather disappear for a few days? That maybe she wasn't cut out for this dream after all?

Then:

Vinna [9:41 PM]:
"No."

A pause.

Then:

Rishi [9:43 PM]:
"Want to talk?"

Vinna [9:44 PM]:
"I'll just sound like I'm whining."

Rishi [9:45 PM]:
"So whine. I've got ears."

Fifteen minutes later, she found herself sitting on the building terrace, legs curled up, hoodie zipped tight. It was unusually cool for August. A breeze played with the loose strands of her hair.

Rishi arrived quietly, a flask of chai in one hand, and two cups.

He sat down beside her without a word, poured them both a cup, and took a sip.

For a while, they said nothing.

The city glowed beneath them—streetlights blinking, windows warm, lives continuing. And there they sat: two dreamers with tired eyes and heavy hearts.

"I studied so hard," she finally whispered. "Like, I actually worked this time. I did everything right. And still..."

Her voice cracked.

Rishi didn't interrupt.

"I feel like I'm running up an escalator going down," she said, wiping her cheek roughly. "No matter how hard I try, I just— I don't move. I don't win."

Rishi set his cup down.

"You know what my physics teacher said once?" he began. "Failure isn't falling behind. It's stopping."

She looked at him, eyes red, skeptical.

"I've failed at least twice as badly as this," he said, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "Once I got 34 in physics and I told my mom the server was down."

Vinna laughed through her tears. "You're awful."

"I know," he said, grinning. "But also—you're not a number. This test isn't your final draft."

"But what if I can't do it?" she asked softly. "What if I'm not made for this?"

Rishi turned toward her, more serious now.

"You're made for it. You're just in chapter 7 of your story. The plot twist is still coming."

She blinked at him. "Chapter 7?"

"Yeah. Happy endings don't show up in the first half."

They sat in silence for a while longer. She sipped the chai slowly. It wasn't very sweet, but it warmed her anyway.

She felt lighter.

Not because anything had changed.

But because someone had stayed.

As they walked back down to their respective floors, she turned to him at the stairwell.

"Thank you," she said. "For not saying something fake like 'you'll be fine'."

He shrugged. "I don't do fake."

Vinna gave him a look. "I can tell."

Then, before she could overthink it, she added:
"I'm glad you're here."

He smiled. Not wide. Just enough.

"Me too."