The hotel lobby buzzed with the usual midday rush, but Shubman Gill and his group of friends were far from inconspicuous. They lounged across the plush sofas, lazily discussing where to head for lunch.

Abhishek Sharma, however, was holding court. "So there we were," he began, gesturing wildly, "caught red-handed in her room. And, of course, she-the queen of melodrama herself-looks at us like we committed a war crime."

Ishan Kishan, leaning back with a smirk, folded his arms. "Right, because sneaking into someone's room is totally normal."

"Hey, it wasn't just 'someone.'" Abhishek leaned forward, his tone conspiratorial. "It was Aarohi. Shubman's Aarohi."

"Not my Aarohi," Shubman cut in sharply, rolling his eyes.

"Sure," Abhishek teased, ignoring him. "And the moment she saw Shubman, her eyes practically blazed with fury. It was like watching a Bollywood climax scene live. You should've seen it, man!"

Ishan chuckled, shaking his head. "Let me guess-Shubman started throwing witty one-liners?"

"Exactly!" Abhishek exclaimed, throwing his arm around Shubman dramatically. "But then she hits him with, 'What the fuck are you doing here?' And I swear, I thought Shubman was going to combust on the spot!"

"Combust?" Shubman muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples. "You're impossible, dude. Stop exaggerating."

Abhishek ignored him, continuing with flourish. "And guess what? She sees me and goes, 'Iske saath?' Like, excuse me! What's so unbelievable about me hanging out with this guy?"

"Everything," Ishan said, deadpan, earning laughter from the group.

Before Shubman could defend himself, Abhishek added, "But I handled it like a pro. Suggested we leave before things got more chaotic."

"More chaotic?" Shubman scoffed. "You bailed before she could actually kill you."

"That's called strategy, my friend," Abhishek said, leaning back triumphantly.

The group burst into laughter just as they stood up to head out for lunch. They were halfway to the door when the atmosphere shifted.

Aarohi Sharma walked into the lobby.

Her presence was like a thunderclap in a silent room. Dressed in a casual but elegant outfit, she looked confident, but the sharp glance she threw at Shubman spoke volumes. Their eyes locked, the tension from the previous day crashing back in full force.

Shubman froze, narrowing his eyes at her, and Aarohi responded in kind, her expression just as fiery. It was a battle of wills, their silent war raging for what felt like hours, even though it was just seconds.

And then, in the most anticlimactic fashion, Shubman stumbled.

He wasn't sure what happened-maybe he caught his foot on the carpet or misjudged his step-but he lurched forward, flailing before catching himself on the edge of a chair.

The tension snapped like a rubber band. Aarohi blinked, her fiery glare melting into incredulity. Abhishek, who was watching intently, burst out laughing.

"Well, that's one way to break the ice," Ishan muttered, clapping Shubman on the back.

"Shut up," Shubman grumbled, straightening and avoiding Aarohi's amused gaze.

"Still as graceful as ever, I see," Aarohi said, her tone dripping with mockery.

Shubman looked at her, his jaw tightening, but before he could retort, Abhishek waved dramatically. "Alright, folks, lunch is waiting! Let's not give the hotel staff more drama than they can handle."

As the group shuffled out, Shubman cast one last glance over his shoulder at Aarohi, who was already walking away, head held high.

Whatever had broken between them six years ago, it clearly wasn't ready to mend itself yet.