One and a half hours later, we stood in front of the grand entrance of a bustling mall. The banners and posters proclaimed the event inside: Karthik Vardarajan's Book Launch. I glared at Naveen and Sathish.

"Seriously?" I hissed.

They gave me cheeky smiles. "It's gonna be fun," they chimed in unison, dragging me inside.

"No, guys, no," I whined but they ignored me, their grips firm on my arms.

My heart pounded as we moved through the throngs of people. Karthik Vardarajan. My ex. The bastard who broke my heart and shamelessly stole my plotline, publishing it under his name. Just the thought of him made my blood boil.

I remember the first time I met Karthik. It was at a literary festival, much like this one. He was standing by a booth, flipping through a book, his brow furrowed in concentration. I, ever the curious writer, approached him to see what had captured his attention.

He looked up, his eyes locking with mine and smiled. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

I laughed, thinking it was a cheesy pick-up line. "Only in books," I replied.

We talked for hours that day, sharing our love for literature and writing. It felt like I had found a kindred spirit, someone who understood the highs and lows of being a writer. We exchanged numbers after a few casual meet ups and outings. Our relationship blossomed from there. For the next two years, I genuinely believed that I'd found my soulmate and was planning to propose to him for marriage. Because I really loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him but it was only after my father's death that he started showing his true colours.

I was dealing with the biggest loss of my life and I expected him to show his support by being with me. Instead he planned going on trips with his friends and decided to leave me alone to deal with my grief which made me realise that once again I've chosen the wrong man as my love.

I still remember the day we broke up. Our last meeting was a stark contrast to our first. It was in a quiet café, the air thick with tension. Karthik had been distant for weeks and I demanded to know why.

"I've been busy," he said, avoiding my gaze.

"Too busy for me ? for us?" I asked, my voice trembling.

He finally looked at me, his eyes cold. "Maybe it's time we take a break."

I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. "A break? Why? What's going on, Karthik?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've got a lot on my plate right now. I can't give you the attention you deserve Aarushi."

I left the café that day feeling numb, not realising that it wasn't just our relationship that was ending.

A month later, I sat in my apartment, scrolling through social media when I saw it. Karthik had announced his new book, the very plot I had shared with him in confidence. My heart shattered into a million pieces. He had stolen my idea, my hard work passed it off as his own.

I wanted to scream, to expose him for the fraud he was in. Our relationship had been private. No one knew we had been together and I feared that coming forward would only hurt my reputation more.

The betrayal broke me in ways I couldn't even express. I buried myself in my work, trying to prove that I was still a worthy writer but the anger and hurt never truly went away. It lingered, a dark cloud over my creativity.

The event was in full swing, with a crowd gathered around a stage adorned with large posters of Karthik's latest book. The air buzzed with excitement and chatter. I could see Karthik at the front, smiling charmingly, basking in the attention of his adoring fans. His tall, athletic frame was dressed in a sleek, tailored suit that accentuated his confident demeanour. His dark hair was neatly styled and his piercing eyes scanned the crowd with a mixture of arrogance and charm. The sight of him, confident and triumphant, made my stomach churn.

"You guys are cruel," I muttered to Naveen and Sathish, who still wore those infuriatingly smug expressions.

"Trust us, Aarushi," Naveen said. "This will be good for you."

"Good for me? Watching my ex bask in glory after he stole my work?" I snapped and they just steered me closer to the stage.

Karthik's voice boomed through the speakers, "Thank you all for coming. It's an honour to share this moment with you."

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to storm out. Instead, I stayed rooted in place of course I made sure to find a hidden spot from where that dick head Karthik won't be able to see me, as I'm forced to listen to his self-congratulatory speech.

As Karthik continued to drone on about his "inspiration" and "creative journey," I felt my anger rising. Every word was a reminder of my stolen work, my lost potential. The crowd's applause felt like salt in the wound.

Naveen leaned in, whispering, "Look at him, Aarushi. Look at what he's doing."

"I am," I muttered through gritted teeth. "And I hate it."

The atmosphere inside the bustling mall was charged with anticipation as I stood hidden among the shadows, my gaze fixed on the stage where Karthik Vardarajan held court. His smooth voice reverberated through the venue, amplified by the speakers, as he regaled the audience with tales of his supposed creativity and talent.

Naveen and Sathish hovered nearby, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. They knew how much Karthik's betrayal had affected me, how deeply it cut into my soul. I couldn't stand the sight of him basking in the limelight, taking credit for something that was rightfully mine.

Without warning, a surge of anger erupted within me like a volcanic eruption. I spotted a steel flower vase on a nearby display, its reflective surface catching the stage lights. In a flash of irrational fury, I seized it and hurled it towards the stage.

The vase sailed through the air, gleaming like a deadly projectile aimed straight at Karthik. It crashed onto the stage with a resounding clang, shattering into a hundred pieces. The audience gasped collectively as chaos ensued. Security guards rushed towards the stage, their radios crackling with urgent commands.

The crowd surged forward, cameras flashing, voices rising in confusion. I stood frozen in place, shock and adrenaline coursing through me.

"Aarushi, we need to go," Sathish shouted over the commotion, grabbing my arm and pulling me away.

Naveen was already at my side, guiding me through the dispersing crowd. We moved quickly, weaving between startled onlookers and determined security guards. Chaos swirled around us somehow, we managed to slip through unnoticed.

As we reached the mall's exit, a wave of relief washed over me. Naveen and Sathish exchanged a glance, their faces blank as white paper.

But within a second both of them burst into laughter leaving me astonished.

"Next time you decide to make a statement, can you warn us first?" Naveen chuckled breathlessly.

Sathish grinned. "I've never seen someone throw a flower vase with such precision. Remind me never to get on your bad side."

I shook my head, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "I don't know what came over me. That was... reckless But I couldn't just stand there and do nothing"

"But kind of badass," Naveen added, his grin widening.

" Okay now, let's leave before they catch us. IF police case is the last thing i want to deal with right now " said Sathish, remarking the financial issues he's dealing with already.

After a few tense minutes of driving in silence, Naveen finally spoke, his voice gentle but firm.

"Aarushi, what you did back there... throwing that vase... it wasn't just about Karthik, was it?"

I remained silent, my gaze fixed on the passing streetlights, avoiding his probing eyes.

Naveen continued, "It was about all the frustration, all the hurt you've been carrying, right?"

Sathish nudged me gently. "That's the point. You're carrying all this anger and bitterness around. It's eating you up."

Seriously why are these two so stuck up on making me take a break? Can't they just leave me on my own?

God! Somebody take me away from these two self proclaimed therapists.

I shot him a glare. "And you think taking me there helped?"

Naveen sighed. "We didn't take you there to make you suffer, Aarushi. But to show you how much this is affecting you. You're letting him live rent-free in your head."

"He's right," Sathish added. "You need to let go. Not for his sake for yours."

Sathish glanced up from his phone, his expression serious. "Aarushi, we know you've been struggling. You've been pushing yourself so hard, trying to prove something to yourself and everyone else. But at what cost?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of their words settling around me like a heavy blanket. "I know... but taking a break feels like giving up."

Naveen shook his head slightly. "It's not giving up, Aarushi. It's about giving yourself the space to breathe, to heal. You can't keep pouring from an empty cup."

Sathish nodded in agreement. "You deserve a chance to step back, to rediscover your passion for writing without all this pressure weighing you down."

I leaned back against the seat, my thoughts swirling. "But what if I lose everything I've worked so hard for?"

Naveen glanced at me briefly before focusing back on the road. "You've been fighting so hard against the world, sometimes the hardest battle is the one within yourself. You can't keep running on empty, hoping to find something that's not there anymore. You deserve to breathe, to rediscover why you love writing in the first place. Taking a break isn't giving up—it's giving yourself the chance to come back stronger than ever."

Sathish chimed in, his tone gentle yet persuasive. "Think about it as pressing pause, not stopping. You're not giving up on writing; you're giving yourself the chance to rediscover your lost spirit. If anything, taking a break might just be the thing that helps you write something truly soulful again."

Their words resonated with me, sinking past my defences.

Maybe they were right. Maybe I needed this more than I wanted to admit.

Naveen pulled the car to a stop at a traffic light, turning to look at me earnestly. "Burning out doesn't prove your strength. Sometimes, real strength lies in knowing when to pause and regain your fire."