The starless night sky was painted in a depressing and dull shade of deep blue, with a crescent-shaped moon right above us. That night, the voices of the legendary Bollywood singers – straight from the seventies and eighties – filled Darshan's car, and I was utterly clueless; I was never a fan of retro-music since childhood, mainly because my parents rarely listened to songs at home and so, I was directly introduced to the hits of the twenty-first century! Whenever our family united, Pops would be the human-radio and he would narrate stories about wars and attacks. That was all he could think of and talk about, and my mom and I were his tired-listeners. Sometimes, he'd end up narrating one story four times on four various occasions, and without complaining, my mom and I would simply lend an ear, while ignoring most of what he'd say. Honestly, I wouldn't blame my dad for being that boring, though, because he had spent his days at various army-camps since his youth-years - while boys of his age, loitered around, fell in love and had the best time of their lives; my dad held a humongous gun, guarded the nation and vowed to put his life at stake for the safety of India. I did see glimpses of Pops in Darshan, even though their lives were many worlds apart; but when one boiled it down, Darshan was somehow a reflection of Pops – he was held up with responsibilities at a young age, and it did pin him down greatly. I wondered if he envied his friends, most of whom definitely had a much more normal life than him, if not lavish.

Slowly, I reached out for the volume button and turned down the volume of the radio, forcing him to turn his head in my direction for a brief moment. "Do you ever look at your friends and think to yourself – 'Man, I wish I had that normalcy in my life'?", I questioned and Darshan only wore a small smile for a while. "Sometimes, I do, but that rarely happens because even when I'm extremely busy, I'm living the life of my dreams. I dreamt of this life, I worked hard for this life and now when I'm living it, it feels wrong to complain. Moreover, there's nothing to complain about because I asked for this. It's not that I didn't know about the fame, spotlight and challenges the career I chose would welcome into my life", Darshan answered. "Are you a different person today, in comparison to who you were before attaining fame?", I shot another question, out of sheer curiosity. "Changes are there, for sure, and changes will be there; that's acceptable, I reckon, because I'm living a completely different life. I cannot completely get hold of my-old-self when life takes a three-sixty-degree turn; that's unrealistic. When life happens, things change; life is not flexible, but all of us are, and we need to make small adjustments to fit into the space. One should never be rigid to changes, because you'll either get benefitted or you'll learn something; either ways, you'll grow", Darshan's philosophies about life were intriguing and I wanted to take a deeper dig at it. "And, is there something you understand better now, but never had a clear understanding about before the fame happened?", I interviewed and Darshan turned to look at me. "What is this? Dityaa's Talk Show?", Darshan chuckled. "I wouldn't mind hosting a talk-show to interview you; you're definitely on fascinating thing!", I exclaimed and he smiled. "Talking to you is like visiting a different world, or traveling to an unknown land, I swear", I admitted. "Copy-Paste the same for you", Darshan said, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Answer me now!", I ordered. "Hmm, one thing I have a better understanding about...", Darshan thoughtfully said and chewed the corner of his lower lip. "Probably, time management; I always wondered how I'd cope with dad's company and my dream. I thought I would only have time for one of the two, but then, as I worked and performed, simultaneously, I understood that – there is time, but there's not enough time to do everything. You'll have to be brutally picky and extremely strict with your choices. In Business Studies, they talk about Opportunity Cost; off two things, you'll have to pick the best one and that's how it works in life. You will have to have a proper understanding about what's more important and head in that direction. You cannot simply complain that you do not have time; you'll have to find and spare time", Darshan said and I listened to him in silence, thinking about how different the two of us were. We were glaringly poles apart in the truest sense; right from how we were to what we believed in to how we coped with life.

I turned up the radio's volume and looked out of the window, as I keenly listened to the meaningful and heart-touching lyrics of the old songs. "As a kid, did you ever believe that the moon follows us?", I was a container full of random and irrelevant questions that night. "I did, and I don't understand the Science behind it, so I still do...for the convenience", Darshan revealed and I laughed. "Childhood days were the best; uncomplicated, straightforward and fun! There was nothing to worry about and everything...everything made perfect sense, even if most of the things were beyond our understanding, right?", as I recalled, a feeling of warmth settled into my heart. "I still remember that once, our neighbour invited our family over for lunch and my mom was panicky, as always; she left with my dad and locked me at home. They didn't even realize...", I narrated and Darshan laughed. "...I cannot believe that it did not strike them that the chatterbox was missing", Darshan teased and I slapped his upper-arm, making him laugh harder. "So, in our old house, our kitchen had a back-door, which led to the backyard and in the backyard, there's a wall that separates our house from a Punjabi family's one. So, I literally climbed the wall, jumped to the next house and my landing was imperfect...I landed on my knees and then, banged my forehead on the ground...", my voice dropped in embarrassment. "Oh! Now, I know how you lost your mind!", Darshan exclaimed and I shot a death stare at him. "My mom definitely lost her mind; she didn't talk to me for three days straight...when it should have been the other way round, because she was the one who forgot her child at home", I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, there's another incident!", I exclaimed, when I remembered. "I've always had a no-filter mouth since childhood; it's a...a genetic problem that runs in my blood and family, which I believe I inherited from my mom's side of the family", I jabbered in one breath and Darshan laughed out loud. "Our neighbour had cancer, and he was an old-man...probably, in his late fifties or something. That evening, when we played football in our lane, I wasn't part of any team, so I was sitting on a stair. So, I decided to visit that Uncle. I met him and the first thing I said was, 'My Grandpa had Cancer, too, and he died'", I said and Darshan burst out laughing hard, so hard that he stopped the car right in the middle of the road for a couple of seconds, before pulling away, again. "Did he slap you?", Darshan questioned, midst his monstrous laughs. "He did something worse – he told me that I should never roam around his house, otherwise he'll call the Police", I said. "You're mad", Darshan judged, lightly, and I smiled. "What about your childhood, though? Say something about it!", I encouraged, but Darshan fell silent and slowly, his smile faded. "Nothing—nothing worth highlighting on", Darshan casually said. "I know your childhood won't be as stupid and mad as mine, but come on, you'll definitely have a handful weird and memorable stories", I nudged, and Darshan shook his head to the sides, biting his lower lip. I didn't know if I read him right, but he looked unsettled and out-of-place. "Is—is everything okay?", I asked him, worriedly, and Darshan took a sharp breath in, clearly forcing a smile. "All cool", he answered, but he sounded different; he couldn't even pretend to make things look normal. "No, you can be honest. If I said something wrong, then I'm sorry, Darshan", I apologized, blankly, and I didn't know why I apologized to him; I was someone who never apologized to people with ease, and all of a sudden, with him, I apologized...when I didn't even do anything to him. Or rather, I believed I didn't harm him in anyway. "What are you sorry for? Are you stupid? Nothing has happened for you to apologize", Darshan said, and we visited a long and deadly silence, which was something rare when we were together. I didn't know why, but I drowned in depths of guilty, probably because I felt that I touched a sentiment or a phase of his life I shouldn't have. Slowly, I turned to look at Darshan, who still looked calm and sorted, but the light on his face had dimmed. He looked lost and thoughtful, and I was probably the reason why. Every cell in my body ached to ask, 'Are you hiding something, Darshan?', but I zipped my mouth shut; he definitely wasn't someone who enjoyed having his personal space invaded, as far as I understood.

Minutes later, Darshan turned off the radio and took a loud and deep breath in, tightening his grip around the steering wheel. "I had a brother...an older brother...", Darshan's was low and serious, and his eyes were glued to the road that opened ahead of us. "...he was nine years older than me. I don't have memories with him, because...we were never on the same page, and we had nothing common between us. I was eight when he came out and confessed to my parents that he was gay...", Darshan opened up, and I looked on, expectantly. "He told the truth to one of his close friend and when they had a fight, his friend used the truth against him. He exposed my brother; he told everyone in our neighbourhood that Bhaiya's gay. Everyone began bashing my parents with their opinions and insults. Bhaiya was bullied, and he wasn't even accepted at home", Darshan's voice quivered, and he took a pause. "And then?", I prompted, clasping my hands together and dropped it on my lap. "He ran away. We kept looking for him, and many years later, we still are", Darshan exhaled and my heart dropped. For once, I had nothing to say; I only stared at Darshan, blankly. "We don't know where he is. We don't even know if he's alive, and if he's alive...we want him back. We want him to know that we've always loved him for who he was, and we'll always love him for who he is. But...it's too late for anything. I was too young to understand anything, Dityaa, but if I had the slightest understanding about what Bhaiya was going through, I would have showed him that he's loved and wanted and accepted. But...", Darshan's voice trailed off. "It is not your fault, Darsh", was all I had in store to console him with.

"I didn't have a childhood; as far as I can remember and recall, my childhood was torturous and nothing short of daunting. For months, I watched my mom sit in one corner and weep; that sadness only grew in her and I grew up witnessing that. My dad was, and still is, very possessive about me; after Bhaiya left us, dad became extremely protective about me. He was extra careful about me, like I was a thin glass. He pampered and loved me in a way that he was taking...control of me and my life; after a point of time I realized, that I was in his hands. It was unintentional from his side, but it happened and that's how it is right now. It's his fear that he would falter from his end, and I would run away, or something. He's scared I'll leave him alone, and he does all he can to shield me...it's his love but it comes out wrong. He serves everything to me on a platter, so that I wouldn't have to struggle and suffer. And it is irritating at times, but...that's how it is; I cannot go against them or raise my voice. I never wanted to run dad's company; I wanted to entirely focus on my music and now that I've made it big in the industry, I cannot handle the two at once. But I do not have what it takes to go against him. He's not the usual strict father; he's emotional and soft and...I don't want to break him. He has only loved me all his life; I don't remember the last time he raised his voice against me...but it's just that he takes control because he is scared I'll leave him. Midst all the controlling and shielding, I lost my childhood", Darshan let everything out to me, and it was that rare occasion when I was the silent listener. Even after he concluded, I didn't have anything to say; I defined what it meant to be speechless. "I'm sorry...I got carried away", Darshan apologized and forced a nervous chuckle; I didn't even move. "I'm sorry...I mean...", I cleared my throat and looked down at my hands. "I don't know what to say", I whispered, guiltily. "You don't have to say anything. Thanks for listening", Darshan said back in a hush and I heard him sniff in. Almost instantly, I looked up at him; a dim, golden ray of light from the street-lamps illuminated his face and shone over the stream of tears with cascaded down his cheeks. Briskly, he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand and stared at the road, without blinking his eyes. I reached out for his forearm and held it tight. "Stop the car", I said, softly, and Darshan shook his head to the sides. "I'm okay", Darshan whispered, shakily, and picked up speed on the road. "You're not", I squeezed his arm tight for a moment. "I'm okay, Dityaa", Darshan exhaled and swallowed hard. "It is okay to not be okay; you're human, after all. You're allowed to cry. You're allowed to fall weak; it only makes you stronger", I comforted and tears snuck out of his eyes. His forearm muscles tightened and hardened, as he tightened his grip around the steering wheel. "Relax", I rubbed his forearm. "Darshan, stop the car. We'll run into something and meet with an accident. Listen to me", I ordered, calmly, and eventually, he did pay heed to my words. He parked the car in one corner of the empty road we drove on, clung onto the steering wheel with one hand and rested his forehead over it, sobbing hard in silence; my heart shattered into pieces on witnessing the sight. I did not interfere, or say a word for long; I simply sandwiched his other hand between my palms, and warmed it up - that was all I could do that night. "Everything's going to be okay. It is a matter of time for the situation to find its meaning. You've been patient and strong all long, what's a little more? You got this, Darshan. Just stay calm", I said and Darshan dragged his tear-stained face away from the steering wheel. He breathed in and out, throwing his head back and slowly, wiped the tears off his cheeks. "I'm sorry", Darshan apologized, moments after staring at his lap in silence. "Don't be sorry", I smiled and let go of his hand. He ran his fingers through his hair and gazed past the window. "I don't know how far we have come together as friends, but if you ever want to talk...I'm here. I promise I won't judge you...I mean, I'm the weirdest creature on Earth, I don't even have the rights to judge you", I lightly told him and he chuckled, pulling the car away from the corner of the road.

Swollen eyes, red nose, heavy heart and a scarred soul...still he wore one of the most beautiful smiles I'd laid my eyes on and as I gazed at him, I inched a little closer towards the depths of love; I didn't know how deeply I loved him, but my heart did feel something for him. I was officially in love with Darshan Raval for the human being he was.

♥

We drove a long distance on the empty streets and shared an even longer and aimless conversation; it was a beautiful night.

Darshan raced past a long lane of shanty houses on either sides of it, when my eyes fell on a gang of teenage boys playing a game of cricket and I jumped from the passenger's seat, clinging onto the window. "Darshan, Darshan, Darshan!", I squeaked, breathlessly, and Darshan abruptly applied the brake, forcing the two of us to jerk forward, thank God for the fastened seatbelts. "What happened?", Darshan gasped and looked around in a panicky manner. "Gully cricket!", I clasped my hands together and covered my mouth, staring out of the group of lads with glints of excitement in my eyes. "Huh?!", Darshan was blank, and it was expected of him. "Dude, haven't you played gully cricket? Street cricket?", I turned to face and he disagreed, as expected, again. "I am an expert in Gully Cricket!", I boasted, fidgeting with the seatbelt. "Okay...cool...but why are you...unbuckling the seatbelt?", he questioned, shifting his gaze between me and the seatbelt. "We're going to play, duh!", I sassily said. "Now?!", Darshan exclaimed in disbelief, and I didn't take him seriously; he was always full of gasps, exclaims and disbelief, I was used to it. "Dityaa, have you lost it? The area doesn't look safe and you don't even know the boys. They're not the boys you'd want to trust, Dityaa; they're not safe", Darshan warned. "Who said I'm going to marry one of them? It's just a game of cricket. Come on, Darshan, don't be a spoiled sport", I said in disdain. "How can I step out like this? I mean, you know how the paparazzi and the media are. Moreover, if these boys find out we're hanging out together—", Darshan attempted to justify himself, but I wasn't in the mood to listen to him. "They won't give a fuck, trust me. Yes, they'll be stunned and surprised that The Darshan Raval wants to join them, but their game is bigger and way more important, they won't have time to think about us. Come on, Darshan, gully cricket is the best; you'll have the best time of your life", I convinced him, but he only looked half-convinced. Asshole. "Dityaa, look at the time", Darshan flashed his branded wrist watch. "Darshan, don't be my mom. You're not coming?", I asked him, straightforwardly, and he shook his head in disagreement. "Cool, you can stay in your car, listen to the old songs and take a short nap until I play a game of cricket and return. Otherwise, you can drive away, too; but if anything happens to me, you're responsible", I said in an uninterrupted stretch, pushing the car-door open, and Darshan's eyes widened. "Dityaa, listen to me...", Darshan called out in panic, and his hand blindly searched for the car-key in the ignition, when I stepped out of his car.

"No matter what, you'll make sure you do what you want, right?", Darshan said, walking alongside me and shoved his car-key into his denim pocket and I smiled at the victory. "Pops has told me, 'Never let the opponents win'...Now, I never let him win, either", I shrugged, and Darshan chuckled, hanging his head low. "Hi, can we join you boys?", I chirpily asked the group of boys, who gawked at The Darshan Raval with their eyes popping out of its sockets. Everyone, literally, everyone shook hands with Darshan, hugged him and took a billion pictures with him, before allowing us to play a game of cricket with them. "Shall we restart the game, and play ten-overs, each side?", I suggested and everyone answered with a united nod. "We'll have two different teams; I'll be the captain for one team, and Darshan will lead the other!", I said. "Dityaa, I'm not good at cricket", Darshan whispered in my ear. "You're not playing the World Cup Finals for India, chill", I whispered back. "And, the losing team's captain will have to buy ice-cream for everyone", a boy with messy, uncombed hair laid a condition, and with that, we started the game.

Darshan's team won the toss, and they chose to field. While the boys arranged themselves around the 'field', I walked towards Darshan and gestured him to lean forward. "You better lose the game for my sake, I don't have enough cash for the treat", I told Darshan and he smiled adorably. "But you still have two unsold kidneys, don't you?", Darshan raised his brow. "FYI, everyone has two unsold kidneys", I forced a sarcastic smile at him. "But now you'll have only one, because you'll have to sell one kidney to pay for the treat once you lose the match, baby", Darshan winked and I elbowed him, making his laugh and stumble back. "Your treat or my treat; same thing", Darshan wrinkled his nose and I smiled. "Keep your treat ready, because you're going to lose, baby", I smirked, walking backwards, and stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed, that was it.

A boy from my team dropped a crucial catch and Darshan's team won the match...a Gully cricket match, but everyone celebrated and danced like they won the World Cup for India. Drenched and soaked in sweat, Darshan danced and jumped with the boys with a wide beam on his face; he was bright as a light-bulb, and I stood to my ground with my arms crossed against my chest, and gazed at him. It was that side of him I had never seen before; he was a different person that night – he was a loud, crazy, wild and genuinely happy. I didn't mind losing any match to witness that beautiful sight. "How do you feel losing?", Darshan questioned, standing inches away from me, with a smirk. "This was a Gully Cricket match; big deal, Darsh!", I rolled my eyes and looked away from him. "Oh, oh, oh!", Darshan exclaimed, walking towards me and I stepped back with a smile. "If you won the match, you would have turned the whole world downside-up, wouldn't you?", Darshan leaned forward; his face was inches away from mine, I could feel his breath against my skin. Midst the loud hoots and cheers, we managed to hold onto an eye-lock, which awakened the butterflies in my tummy and made me feel ticklish. His eyes were soft. His eyes were bright. His eyes held the whole world; from the depths of an ocean to the shimmering stars on a night sky. Moments later, Darshan hesitantly looked away and I turned away, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ear, biting the corner of my lip to conceal a smile.

Once we treated the boys, and ourselves, with fruit-flavoured ice popsicles and bid them goodbye, it was time for us to part ways. "I think we should...I should go back home...I'll take the train", I told Darshan, standing beside his car. "I'll drop you home. Why the train?", Darshan questioned, sounding perplexed. "You'll have to drive a long distance back and you look tired. I'll take the train back home, it's not a big deal; the railways station is a five minute walking distance from here", I pointed at...nothingness. "Do you want to get beaten up, or robbed by another stranger, again? You literally just recovered, Dityaa. Get in. I'll drop you", Darshan insisted and held his car door open. "You honestly think you'll manage to change my mind, Darshan?", I tilted my head to the side and slammed the car-door shut. "Listen, it's not safe...", Darshan tried to explain his worry, but I cut him short. "Shh, I said I'll manage", I said and walked a step back. "You and your stubbornness; your parents deserve an award for raising you, without throwing you away", Darshan joked. "My mom, precisely", I chuckled. "Be careful and please don't talk to strangers on your way", Darshan advised, like I was a four-year old kid. "Call me once you reach the railway station, and then, call me when you reach home, okay?", Darshan said and I nodded sincerely. "You know what? I'll just drop you home. Come with me", Darshan insisted. "Darshan, I'm not a kid. I'll be safe!", I narrowed my eyes. "Fine!", Darshan breathed out and threw his hands in the air. "I'll see you on Wednesday, then", Darshan absently said, and then froze when it struck him that I was fired. "Oh shit...", he whispered, with an embarrassed smile, and I laughed. "We can still meet on Wednesday, though...I'm jobless, anyways", I shrugged and the next thing he did was – he stepped forward and swallowed me into a hug. It was unexpected and I didn't see it coming my way that I ended up standing as still as a statue, feeling his breaths brush past the tip of my ear, which forced shivers to trickle down my spine. "Don't stress about anything. I'm pretty sure you'll find something", Darshan said, comfortingly, and broke out of the hug. That was one sweaty, but warm hug. "I repeat – if you need anything, I'm always going to be one phone call away", Darshan reminded and with that, we parted ways.

Exactly five minutes after walking away from him, my iPhone vibrated in my denim pocket; it was a message from Darshan, which read, 'You reached the railway station?', and I smiled stupidly at my iPhone screen. 'Five minutes does not literally mean five minutes, Darshan! I'm not flying, I'm walking. It's going to take some time. Relax', I texted back and shoved my phone back into my pocket.

He cared...and that only made me fall harder in love...with a celebrity I didn't stand a chance with.