It was a violently windy night at the rooftop, where Darshan and I stood alongside each other and gazed at the bright and moving City of Dreams that rushed before our eyes. After the long conversation in the room, over a buffet of the best of best Italian dishes and champagne, I was exhausted and I couldn't wait to return home to crash on bed with the oozing feeling of warmth and contentment fresh in my heart. But I also did not want the night to end, despite the subtle tipsiness and truckloads of exhaustion; I simply wanted to stand beside him, and I didn't mind the silence, which wasn't awkward and nerve-wrecking after a point of time. But while he preferred silence, I wanted to talk; I wanted to share a conversation so deep all for that one glimpse of his soul, for me to know who he truly was, what he believed in and...how heavy that heart of his was. I was desperate to turn the pages of The Book of His Life - I wanted to read the painful chapters and extract the sorrows out of him; I wanted to know about what made him happy, so that I could take him to places and bring him things that would illuminate his beautiful face with a genuine smile; I wanted him to open up about his fears, I wanted to talk through his heartbreaks, I wanted an insight of the lonely nights of his life...I wanted to know it all. I wanted to know about every inch of his pain and every drop of his sorrow, for I wanted to break what hurt him and turn the drops of sorrows into an ocean of happiness; as cliché, stupid and dramatic as it sounds, I was in love and my heart only wished for his happiness.

"Talk about your first-love", Darshan prompted, out of the blues, and dragged his eyes away from the intriguing sight of Mumbai to look at me. "First-love?", I echoed, and took a sharp breath in with a small smile stretched on my lips. "Nothing significant, to be honest", I wrinkled my nose and Darshan looked on, tilting his head to the side. "I have been on numerous dates and I've had three boyfriends, but when I look back at the dates and relationships, I understand that there's nothing special about it. I was carefree and nothing mattered; the dates were merely for hang-out purposes and the break-ups didn't even matter. And when the break-up didn't hurt, love never existed, right?", I shuddered, weakly, as stone-cold air brushed past my skin. "Was it easy to move on?", Darshan questioned, curiously. "I wasn't caught up in love, in the first place. I was never in love, I was merely infatuated, and that feeling died with time; sometimes, I'd look at my partner and wonder what I was doing in that relationship", I explained. "Why did you walk into the relationships, then?", Darshan raised yet another question, and I shrugged my shoulders. "Probably because I felt that it was the right thing to do that moment, and I listened to my heart", I thoughtfully stated. "You should have been a little more thoughtful before taking a drastic step", Darshan smiled, looking back at the busy city. "I don't think so, Darshan", I disagreed and he looked back at me, with questions in his eyes. "If you're going to think deeply and be 'thoughtful', you'll always remain in square-one and you won't move forward in life, because when you keep running a thought on your mind, you'll somehow end up on the negative end with a negative thought about what you're going to do. Eventually, you won't do anything. Moreover, what's there to 'think about' when it comes to feelings? Your feelings should be respected enough to be expressed. You love someone? Say it. Show it. Simple! Definitely not always, but sometimes it is absolutely okay, acceptable and valid to listen to the sound of your heart than the instructions of your mind. While the mind differentiates between what's right and what's wrong, the heart knows what you want; your heart's not going to be right always, but when you listen to it, you'll never end up with regrets. I've followed my heart and I admit I've fallen on the wrong side of life, I've been hurt but importantly, I have learnt, grown stronger and wiser than I was", I elaborated. "I mean, I know I'm act like a five year-old, but count on me, I am mature, too", I lightly said and Darshan chuckled, hanging his head low.

"But who was your first-love?", Darshan went back to square-one. "I think I was in third grade...there was this boy, who sat on the table next to me. He was actually obese, fluffy and chubby; and I found him extremely adorable. He was bullied at school, and I was his only friend; we would share our lunch and colour pencils, and all of that. One day, when we had a conversation about Pandas and Polar Bears, I told him that I found him cute...and that was the end of our friendship. He was so terrified, he didn't even look in my direction after that day", I narrated and Darshan laughed hard. "That's creepy, to be honest, Dityaa. I would have stopped talking to you, too", Darshan said. "Well, then, I think you're hot", blurted out deliberately, with a smile and watched how he stiffened, within a blink of an eye. "I meant—not now---I would have stopped talking to you when I was a kid---not now, obviously", Darshan was so hesitant that he failed to bring his eyes to meet mine. "What's with the hesitation?", I teased and shuffled towards him, in an attempt to push him on the extreme end of feeling uncomfortable because I was that rebel, and I swear on all Gods, he turned tomato red. "Has anyone told you that you're still that kid?", I whispered and giggled, before moving away from him. Utterly embarrassed, he smiled and looked away from me, while I laughed hard. While I made a joke out of it to ease the situation, deep down, I thought that it was something beautiful; the innocence in him, the respect he showed and the hesitation was rare, and he was precious. He was full of goodness and I only wanted to protect him.

"Who was your first-love, though?", I darted the question back at him with a nudge of the elbow, and he smiled, he smiled so beautifully that I understood that he had someone; he smiled at the thought of her, as though he still loved her, and my heart did sink. "Before the stardom happened, I performed at colleges and Universities around Mumbai and that was how I met her", his voice drastically softened, as a pleasant smile stretched on his face and reflected in his eyes. "What's her name?", I questioned in a hush, while I felt sudden drops and twists in my stomach. "Avantika", he answered, and cracked his knuckles. "She'll always be the most beautiful girl I met", Darshan smiled, and although it was a warming moment, I felt the urge to breakdown into a cry; it was affecting me. I regretted asking him about his first-love for...he still loved her. "But sometimes you fall in love to experience how beautiful that feeling is, without being blessed enough to hold onto it for the rest of your life", Darshan vaguely said. "Where is she now?", I asked him. "Somewhere amidst the stars", he revealed, calmly, and gazed at the night sky in silence, and I felt a stab in my heart, which forced tears to well up in my eyes. Out of my control, tears snuck out of my eyes and cascaded down my cheeks in long, uninterrupted streams. "Ironic how love that once was beautiful is the love with numbs you now", Darshan absently said and weakly smiled. "She was a chapter in my book, and I was her last chapter", Darshan shrugged, turning in my direction and I turned away from him, shakily wiping the tears off my cheeks. "Hey", Darshan called out in a whisper, and it simply provoked tears to run down my cheeks, but not even a cry let my mouth. "I'm okay", I answered in a shaky hush, and swept the tears off my face. Slowly, he held my hand tight and ran his thumb over it, without uttering a word; his grip was tight, touch was comforting and gesture was warm. "I wish I could crack a stupid joke to make you laugh right now", Darshan said, and I forced a smile, looking down at the tiled-floor. "Do you want to make me cry for making you cry? Shall we have the scores settled?", Darshan casually said, sandwiching my hand between his palms and I didn't want him to let go of it. Had Avantika been alive, she would have been the luckiest girl on Earth, but she still was one lucky star for his love for her was immortal. I envied her, for I always craved a love so deep and feelings so real. That chubby kid at school could have been my first-love, but Darshan Raval was my first-true-love; I felt like a puppet before him because he controlled my emotions, effortlessly. Within moments I understood how painstakingly hard love could get; despite sharing a connection with him and loving him, I couldn't be with him and it stabbed my heart. Mom was wrong for love isn't simple; love is complicated, because all of a sudden, I didn't have the bravery to confess that I loved him with all my heart. But how did it even matter? My love for his was a book, written in a language he couldn't read.

"What's gone is gone; we were meant to be, but not forever, probably because there's someone better out there for me. There's nothing to cry about...stop crying, it doesn't suit you...shh, come here", he comforted, inched closer and dragged me into a hug. "Don't", as he whispered, his upper-lip gently brushed past the tip of my ear for a split second, before he broke out of the hug. "Smile", Darshan ordered and I forced one, looking down at my cold, bare hands. "Smile; the real one!", Darshan held my face between his hand and squished it for a moment, bringing a smile on my face. "You know what? I know how to make you smile. I have something planned for you; sit down, until I return", Darshan said and darted back to the cuboid-shaped room where we had dinner, while I sat down on one of the cushioned couches in the living room, anticipating for his arrival.

For the first time that night, I turned on my iPhone and checked WhatsApp for messages; a spam of messages filled our group, as always, which I didn't want to open at that moment. But I opened a message Nash sent which read, 'How's the date going?'.

'Nash, I wish I never showed up', I admitted. Within seconds, Nash read the message and began typing something back.

Nash WHY??!!

'I fell in love with him...someone I don't stand a chance with', I texted her back, and immediately went offline, when I heard the sound of his footsteps. With a calming smile lightening up his face, he walked towards me, holding his guitar and I smiled back, nervously.

On the long couch, he sat beside me, keeping a gap of inches between us, and held his guitar against his chest, gently tugging the strings in slow motion. "This was the first song I wrote...", Darshan's voice turned husky, and his eyelids dropped shut. Swaying to the sides with his eyes shut, he sang the first song he wrote and I gazed at him, as the gentle breeze danced with the strands of his hair, messing it around. Once he finished singing the song, he told me that he wrote it the hour he laid his eyes on Avantika. 'Song-writing was never my cup of tea...and then, she happened', he shared and chuckled in a deep tone, looking down at his polished guitar. Avantika went nowhere, for he still kept her alive; he talked about her as though she was right before him, listening to every word he uttered about her. He saved a short performance for me, where he sang a bunch of his best songs and talked about the song; when he talked, he sounded passionate and I could sense the love his heart bore for his songs.

Thirty minutes later, we decided to head back home because the clock almost struck 23:00 p.m., and as he packed his guitar, I asked, "She must be beautiful, right?". "Who?", Darshan absently questioned. "Avantika", I smiled, and he smiled, too; but, while he smiled because of the warmth of her memory, I smiled in pain. "The eyes you described in your songs, that smile you sing about...it's her, right?", I curiously asked. "I don't write my songs anymore; they're not my words...and even if I were to describe her through my songs, I don't think I'd find the right words to", Darshan answered, standing up, and I rose to my feet, too. "Do you believe in second chances?", I couldn't hold that question in and Darshan didn't take too long to nod in agreement. "Second-chances do exist, and I think they're beautiful", Darshan looked straight into my eyes and smiled warmly. "If you're lucky enough, you'll meet someone, who'll strengthen your belief in love, mend your broken heart and teach you how to love again", Darshan's voice was soft. I desperately wanted to ask, 'Do you think you're lucky?', but I simply dragged a sharp breath in, and walked towards the elevator.

♥

He halted the car right in front of the bungalow the four of us moved into. "Thank you for showing up", he smiled, while I unbuckled the seatbelt. "Thank you for the night. It was wonderful", I thanked him back, and it was gratitude from the depth of my heart; it definitely was one unforgettable night. "Would I make a good second date?", Darshan raised his brow and tapped his fingers against his steering wheel. "You're not a bad date, to be honest. I would definitely consider you, if I ever want to ask someone out for a date", I answered back, teasingly. "Oh, privileged!", Darshan dramatically said and I chuckled, holding the bouquet stuffed with roses and chocolates closer to me. "I hope you know my mom designs bracelets and necklaces...", Darshan randomly stated, out of nowhere. "I know every little thing about your mom, because my mom wouldn't stop talking about her; she's obsessed and trust me, it is annoying...and scary!", I grunted and Darshan laughed. "Um...", Darshan cleared his throat and reached out for a box from the backseat. "...this one's for you...straight from my mom's latest collections that no one has even seen yet, let alone purchased", Darshan said, holding out the box towards me, and I looked down at the box, unable to bring myself to move or react. He unboxed the narrow and long box, exposing a beautifully studded baby blue bracelet; I fell in love with at first sight. But there was definitely no way I'd take it from him; it was way too much for a...date! "That's beautiful", I whispered, staring at the set. "Your mom is so talented; now I know why my mom's obsessed", I stupidly blabbered and he laughed. "This is so sweet of you...and Aunty...but, I cannot take this from you...", my voice trailed off. "This is not a request. It is an order", Darshan said, carefully picking the bracelet out of the box. "No, Darshan! This is too...I don't know, but no, Darshan, I cannot take this from you", I hesitantly argued. "You won't have to sell your kidneys to pay me, trust me", Darshan joked. "Darshan, please!", I insisted. "Dityaa, please", he pleaded back and there was absolutely no way I could argue once he did that; I had to give in. "Haven't your parents taught you that you should never say no to free food and gifts?", Darshan teased. "They've taught me to say no to expensive gifts that are way beyond my standards", I answered back. "But when someone gifts you something with all their heart, you should never decline it...will you wear it or should I...", Darshan paused and awkwardly held the bracelet in the air. "Do it...", I exposed my wrist, once I flashed the humongous bouquet that mounted on me. "Thank you, though", I smiled, as he wrapped and secured the bracelet around my wrist. "Good night", Darshan whispered, once he perfectly secured it around my wrist. "Good night", I smiled and pushed the car-door open. "Once you reach home, drop me a mess...oh shit, never-mind...I thought you were taking the train", he said in one breath and I giggled, as I hopped out. "For a change, you drop me a message once you reach home. Drive safe!", I said. "Yes, Madam; anything else?", he teased, tilting his head to the side. "GO!", I ordered and slammed the door shut on his face; I heard him laugh for a split second, before shutting the door. He honked twice, I waved him goodbye and he drove away, stranding me alone on the streets with a feeling of warmth.

I stood to my ground and studied the bracelet on my wrist; I felt special. As cliché as it sounds, I wasn't the girl who believed in love, until he happened and he changed the game with that husky voice, twinkly eyes, heartwarming smile and ruffled hair. Maybe, he didn't have me at first sight but he was all I could think of, after that night.