The sun had just begun to set, washing the sky in hues of honey and rose, when Anaya's phone buzzed quietly beside her. She had been sitting by the window, her journal open on her lap, lost in a world of unwritten words.
[Call from Jiya Ma'am]
Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone as she answered. "Hello…?"
"Anaya!" Jiya's voice came through with a burst of excitement. "I spoke to him. my husband. He remembers you! He even said he noticed how quietly responsible and graceful you were during that dinner."
Anaya blinked, startled. "He… remembers me?"
"Yes," Jiya chuckled softly. "He said you had something rare in your eyes. A quiet passion. But, he said that he never thought that you'll enter into the writing industry. But, he said, he will meet you."
Anaya sat straighter. Her heart beat faster. "Meet me…?"
"Yes," Jiya confirmed. "He's coming to Hyderabad next week for a business conference. He'll spare some time to talk to you., go through your manuscript. If he likes it… he might consider publishing it under his label."
Anaya's breath caught.
Her fingers gripped the fabric of her skirt as her heart fluttered in disbelief. "Are you… really sure?"
"Of course I am," Jiya said with a smile in her voice. "But he's old-fashioned. He won't give you anything just because of me. He'll read your work. If it speaks to him, he'll move mountains for it. So be brave, Anaya."
There was silence.
And then.. "I… I will. Thank you, Jiya ma'am… really. I… I won't waste this chance."
"I know you won't," Jiya replied. "And Anaya?"
"Hmm?" Anaya replied.
Jiya said eith a little disappointment in her voice. " I rhought you'll choose music industry. I never thought that you are interested in writing. Because, I just know you as a violinst."
She continued , "But, This could be the beginning of something beautiful. All the best."
The call ended.
Anaya sat still, her hands trembling slightly, not with fear, but with a growing fire in her chest. A fire of hope, and something stronger than she had felt in a long time possibility.
She looked down at the pages of her journal, then reached for her laptop.
No longer did her words feel small. No longer did her dream feel unreachable.
That night, as stars slowly unfolded above the city, Anaya wrote, not as someone searching for herself, but as someone finally stepping into the light.
The days flew like pages caught in the wind. Anaya busied herself with polishing her manuscript.., rewriting chapters, correcting typos, questioning every line she once loved. The thought of meeting a real publisher, the thought of someone who could change her future reading her words, made her both excited and terrified.
Each night she stayed up late, rereading, editing, doubting.
Until finally, it was the night before the day of meeting.
The moon hung heavy outside her window.. bright, silver, and soft, like an old friend watching over her. She had just closed her laptop after what felt like the hundredth revision when she reached for her journal.
She opened to a blank page and began writing.
Yu Chen,...
I don't know if you'll ever read this. But writing to you feels like I'm whispering to the clouds.. hoping, somehow, one of them might carry my voice to you.
Tomorrow is very very.. very important. I'm going to meet someone who might help publish my novel. Can you believe it? The girl who once hid behind a wall of scars is now chasing stories made of words.
But I'm scared, Yu Chen.
Scared that I'll mess it up. Scared they'll say, you'rework is not good enough. I don't know if I can take one more rejection.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing all this for the right reasons… or if deep down, I just want someone.. obviously you, to be proud of me.
You're far away. You don't know me. And yet, your existence gave my loneliness a name that didn't hurt so much. You gave me a direction when I had none. You know that direction is you..
Maybe it's silly to love someone from afar. Maybe it's a little mad to dream of someone I've never met. But this love… this feeling, it made me brave.
Thank you for that..
Wherever you are, I hope you're sleeping well tonight.
And if you ever feel a little strange warmth in your chest tomorrow morning…
…it might just be my prayer for your happiness.
But, wish it will be succeed.
Your Love..
Annie.
She closed the journal and hugged it gently to her chest.
The clock ticked quietly in the room.
She didn't know what tomorrow would bring. But for the first time in a long time… she wasn't afraid of hoping.