A/n: Getting princess treatment from mummy-papa, cuz I'm leaving for hostel in a few days.... Acche din and bure din merging together lmao.

Important Note: Updates will come every alternate day, since I am updating "The Taste of Royalty" book as well, along with this. I might update one day after the other, only if I find that somehow possible. Thanks :)

***

Ishan stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air hitting his face, offering a brief but welcome relief from the suffocating atmosphere inside. He leaned against the railing, staring blankly at the twinkling lights of the city below, his thoughts racing. He had thought he could handle this—watching Shubman and Sara together—but now that he had seen it with his own eyes, the reality was far harsher than he’d imagined.

The sound of laughter and chatter from inside the apartment was muffled behind the glass door, but it was still too close, too loud. Ishan ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the swirl of emotions bubbling up within him. Jealousy. Frustration. Heartache. It all blended together, an overwhelming wave that he couldn’t suppress anymore.

Just then, he heard the door slide open behind him, followed by the familiar sound of footsteps. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Shubman.

"Hey, you okay?" Shubman’s voice was gentle, laced with genuine concern.

Ishan turned to face him, quickly schooling his expression into something neutral. "Yeah, just needed some air," he replied, his voice steady. He managed a small smile. "Thanks. You and Sara seem really happy."

Shubman’s face lit up, the kind of smile that used to make Ishan’s heart race for entirely different reasons. "Yeah, she’s great. I’m lucky to have her."

"Of course," he swallowed hard, his chest tightening at the sight of Shubman so oblivious. He tried to keep his tone light, but there was an undeniable edge to his words. He couldn’t help it. The pain in his voice was raw, unintentional, and impossible to hide.

As usual, Shubman didn’t notice the shift in his tone. He was too wrapped up in the bliss of his new relationship to catch on. He never really did see what was right in front of him.

"But you’re important to me too, Ishan. I hope you know that," Shubman added, stepping closer. His voice was sincere, and for a moment, Ishan almost let himself believe it. Almost.

Ishan let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging as he looked down at the floor. It wasn’t enough. Being important wasn’t enough. He wanted more—he needed more. But how could he explain that to someone who saw him only as a friend?

"Don’t you see anything, Shubman? What are you trying to do?" Ishan blurted, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

His heart pounded in his chest, and he immediately regretted saying anything. It wasn’t fair to lay this on Shubman, not when he was so clearly happy. But at the same time, he couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay.

Shubman blinked, his expression shifting from concern to confusion. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ishan," he said, frowning slightly.

Ishan closed his eyes, letting out a frustrated laugh. Of course, Shubman didn’t get it. How could he? He wasn’t the one standing on the sidelines, watching the person he cared about fall for someone else.

"Okay, forget about it," Ishan finally said, waving it off.

It wasn’t worth it. Not now, not like this. He couldn’t explain something that Shubman would never understand. Not without ruining everything.

Shubman’s confused frown turned into a smile, clearly thinking the moment of tension had passed. "Come back inside," he urged, his tone playful again. "The party’s not over. Have some fun!"

Ishan nodded, even though the last thing he felt like doing was returning to the crowd and pretending he was fine. But for Shubman, he would do it. He always did.

Shubman clapped a hand on Ishan’s shoulder before turning and heading back inside.

With one last glance at the city lights, Ishan followed Shubman back into the party, slipping back into the role of the supportive best friend, even though it was tearing him apart inside.

As Ishan followed Shubman back inside, his head swam with emotions he wasn’t ready to face. The lights in the apartment seemed brighter than before, the sounds louder. His steps faltered as his foot caught the edge of the rug, and before he knew it, he was falling forward. The room seemed to tilt, and then—thud.

Shubman, already a few paces ahead, turned sharply at the sound. His eyes widened when he saw Ishan on the floor. "What the—" He rushed over, his heart pounding. "Ishan!"

Ishan groaned softly, trying to push himself up, but his arms gave way. His movements were slow and uncoordinated, and that’s when it hit Shubman—he was drunk. But how? Ishan didn’t even drink, at least not that Shubman had ever seen.

Shubman crouched beside him, his voice thick with concern. "O God, are you drunk? When did you start drinking??" His frown deepened as he grabbed Ishan by the shoulders, shaking him gently.

Ishan mumbled something incoherent, his eyes half-closed as he tried to focus on Shubman. It was clear he was far too out of it to respond properly.

Mayank, who had noticed the commotion from across the room, hurried over. His eyes widened when he saw Ishan sprawled out on the floor, looking completely out of it. "What happened?" Mayank asked, kneeling down next to Shubman.

"I don’t know! I didn’t even realize he was drinking," Shubman muttered, still baffled. He glanced over at the table where a few glasses were scattered. "Did he even have anything? I didn’t see him pick up a drink all night!"

Mayank shook his head. "Maybe someone handed him something." He reached down to help Shubman lift Ishan up. Ishan’s body was heavy and limp, barely able to support his own weight. "Come on, let’s get him to the guest room."

Together, they half-carried, half-dragged Ishan through the crowd of party-goers, who barely noticed what was happening in the corner of the room. Shubman could feel Ishan’s body sagging against him, his legs stumbling with every step. Ishan mumbled a few words, but they were too slurred to understand.

They finally made it to the guest room, pushing open the door and guiding Ishan onto the bed. His body collapsed onto the mattress, and for a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, his lips moving as if he was trying to form words, but nothing coherent came out.

Shubman stood by the bed, hands on his hips, worry etched on his face. "How the hell did he get this drunk without anyone noticing?" he asked, glancing at Mayank, who shrugged.

"Maybe it’s just...I don’t know, too much too fast?" Mayank guessed. "He’s not used to drinking, right?"

"No, he’s not," Shubman said, running a hand through his hair. "God, I should’ve been paying more attention."

Ishan stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open for a moment. His lips moved again, and this time, Shubman leaned in closer, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Shu...Shubman..." Ishan mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shubman froze, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand. "What? What is it, Ishan?"

But Ishan didn’t respond. His eyes closed again, and he drifted off into a heavy, drunken sleep, leaving Shubman standing there, completely bewildered.

Mayank patted Shubman on the shoulder. "Don’t worry, he’ll sleep it off. You know how it is with these first-time drinkers—hits them harder than they expect."

"Yeah..." Shubman muttered, but something still didn’t sit right with him.

Shubman couldn’t shake the feeling that Ishan’s drunken state wasn’t just a result of too much alcohol. There was something more to it, something that had been building up all night—something he hadn’t noticed.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. He watched as Ishan’s breathing evened out, his chest rising and falling steadily. At least he was safe now.

"I’ll stay here with him for a bit," Mayank said, grabbing a chair and sitting down by the bed. "Make sure he doesn’t throw up or anything."

"Alright, I’ll check in on you guys later," Shubman said, giving a final nod before leaving the room.

As the door closed behind him, Mayank sat back, watching Ishan sleep, his mind racing with concern and worry for his friend.

***

Back at the party, Shubman found himself at the bar, staring into his drink, swirling the glass absentmindedly. The noise and laughter of the party seemed distant, his mind wandering back to Ishan in the guest room. He couldn’t shake the uneasiness that had settled deep in his chest.

"Hey," came a familiar voice, and he turned to see Sara sliding onto the stool next to him. She smiled, eyes bright as she looked at him. "What’s wrong? You’ve been so out of it for a while now."

Shubman sighed, his fingers still tracing the rim of his glass. "It’s nothing, really... just not feeling too good."

Sara raised an eyebrow, teasing him lightly. "Not feeling good? Well, we could do something about that, you know..." She leaned in closer, her playful smirk growing.

Shubman couldn’t help the flush that crept up his neck. He chuckled nervously, feeling a little lighter in her presence. "Oh yeah? What are you suggesting?"

She laughed softly, nudging him. "Come on, Shubman. You know exactly what I’m suggesting." Her voice was low, her teasing tone sending his heart racing a bit. "I could help you forget about whatever’s bothering you."

He blushed deeper, trying to shake the tension. "You really think that’ll help?"

Sara leaned even closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Of course it will."

Shubman pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze, his nerves giving way to a boldness he didn’t usually show. "Kiss me," he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

Sara smiled, the corners of her lips curving up in that way that made his stomach flip. "Is that an order?" she asked, playfully raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his eyes darting to her lips. "Maybe."

Without another word, Sara leaned in, pressing her lips softly against his. It was quick but enough to make his pulse race even faster. When she pulled back, her eyes were glinting with amusement.

"Better?" she asked, her voice soft.

Shubman smiled, feeling a bit lighter than before. "Yeah," he said quietly. "But maybe we should take this somewhere... quieter."

Sara’s grin widened, her hand sliding into his. "Good idea," she said, getting up from her stool. "There’s a corner over there where no one will bother us."

He followed her, heart pounding, as they slipped away from the crowd. A part of him felt a strange twinge in his chest as they left the noise and laughter behind. But as Sara led him toward a quieter spot, her hand warm in his, he pushed the feeling aside, letting himself get lost in the moment.

(Jisko makeout scene chahiye jaake Shub-Sara fanfics padh lijiye😂)

***

Mayank stood by the bar, absentmindedly sipping his drink when he noticed Shubman and Sara slipping away toward a quieter corner. He watched as they laughed softly, their hands intertwined, and something inside him twisted. His gaze shifted to the crowd around them, people still enjoying the party, oblivious to what was happening.

But Mayank wasn’t. He couldn’t ignore the heaviness in his chest. He had known Ishan long enough to understand him without words. Ishan never explicitly told him that he liked Shubman, but Mayank could see it in his eyes, in the way his demeanor changed whenever Shubman was around. They had been best friends for years, and Mayank could read Ishan like an open book.

The way Ishan looked at Shubman tonight... Mayank had never seen his friend that vulnerable. Now, seeing Shubman leave with Sara, the weight of it hit him even harder. He felt a pang of guilt for Ishan.

Setting down his drink, Mayank quietly made his way through the crowd, heading toward the guest room where Ishan was resting. As he opened the door and stepped inside, the dim light cast a soft glow on the room. Ishan lay on the bed, his eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling. There was a stillness in the room, the kind that made Mayank’s heart sink.

He moved closer, his footsteps soft on the floor, and sat down next to Ishan on the edge of the bed. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy, and Mayank could feel the weight of Ishan’s thoughts in the air.

"Ishan..." Mayank said gently, breaking the quiet. Ishan didn’t respond, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

Mayank sighed, glancing down at his friend. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong — he already knew. He could see the pain etched in Ishan’s expression, even if he didn’t want to show it.

Mayank finally broke the silence. "You should forget about him," he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight of concern.

Ishan's eyes flickered for a moment, but he didn’t look at Mayank. "About whom?" he replied, his voice distant, like he was trying to act oblivious.

Mayank huffed in frustration, leaning forward slightly. "You know I’m talking about Shubman. Don’t act like you’re being subtle. Your face literally screams, 'I am ready to die for Shubman Gill!' It’s just... no one really notices you, except me."

Ishan’s eyes finally shifted toward Mayank, his brows furrowing as if his pride had been bruised. He made an exaggerated mock face, as though deeply offended. "You just had to say that out loud, didn’t you?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, though there was a faint trace of bitterness.

"Sorry," Mayank sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "I didn’t mean to sound harsh. I just... I just think you need to stop torturing yourself over him. I mean, look at you!" He gestured toward Ishan, his tone becoming more pleading. "You’re sitting here, drunk like shit because of him!"

Ishan remained silent, his mock expression fading. He sat up a little, his hands fidgeting with the blanket as if trying to avoid what Mayank was getting at.

"And do you want to know what he’s doing right now?" Mayank continued, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "While you’re in here, drunk and miserable, he’s out there... making out with Sara."

Ishan winced at the words, his eyes lowering.

"Go on," Mayank added, his voice harsher than before, "be happy for him. You’re always the ever-so-generous friend, right?"

"I am happy for him," Ishan mumbled, but the crack in his voice gave him away. It wasn’t convincing. Not to Mayank. Not to himself.

"Are you, though?" Mayank’s voice softened as he leaned in closer. "Because it sure as hell doesn’t look like it from where I’m sitting."

There was a long pause. Ishan’s chest rose and fell slowly as if he was trying to keep himself from breaking apart right there.

Mayank shook his head, exasperated. "Look, just... get yourself a boyfriend or something. Find someone who can take your mind off this whole Shubman thing. Anyone but him."

Ishan’s hands clenched into fists as if the suggestion itself was unbearable. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, but heavy with emotion. "I don’t want a boyfriend, Mayank," he confessed, his words slow and deliberate. "I want Shubman."

It wasn’t just words. It was the truth. The confession Ishan had been holding onto for so long, the one he tried to bury deep inside, but couldn’t.

Mayank froze, his face turning pale at the raw intensity of Ishan’s admission. His mind raced, trying to find the right words, but nothing seemed adequate.

"Ishan..." he started, struggling to find the right way to approach this. "Look at yourself, man! You’re a mess because of him! Today, you’re drunk, and who knows what’ll happen tomorrow? Do you really want to keep doing this to yourself?"

Ishan remained quiet, his eyes fixed on the floor as the weight of Mayank’s words sank in.

Mayank sighed deeply, frustration still etched on his face. "I don’t want to see you get hurt even more than you already have. You deserve better than this, Ishan. You really do."

Ishan said nothing, but the tears threatening to spill from his eyes spoke louder than words.

***

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