At priyanka's house Midnight at Priyanka's House
Priyanka turned off her phone, placed it beside her bed, and whispered to herself,
"This night is unforgettable—not only for Arjun, but for me too. On his birthday, I disappointed him so much."
Tears welled up in her eyes as she buried her face in her palms, her heart heavy with regret.
Unable to stay in bed, Priyanka jumped up, walked to the window, and opened it slowly. Cool night air brushed against her face. She looked around for a chair, unfolded it, and placed it in front of the window. Sitting cross-legged, with her feet resting on the window edge, she murmured,
"Shit ya..."
She leaned back, gazing at the moon. It was as if the moon was telling her something serious—something she needed to understand.
Meanwhile, on the other side...
At the same time, Arjun had fallen asleep at his study table. His phone was still unlocked. On the screen, Priyanka's last chat was open—a message left unseen, unread. The faint light from the screen glowed in the dark, casting a soft hue on his tired face.
Back to Priyanka
Priyanka closed her eyes and sat straight. She decided to meditate.
"It's 4:00 AM," she said to herself.
"This is the hour when the cosmic levels of the world are at their peak. It's the perfect time to meditate."
She adjusted herself into the proper posture, took a deep breath in, and just as she was about to begin…
a little insect flew and gently landed on her nose.
She burst into laughter and smiled—
A beautiful, natural smile... like the first light of sunrise touching the face of the earth.
"Hey buddy! You also want to meditate with me?" she chuckled, speaking to the tiny visitor on her nose.
Reflections
"You know about my best friend?" Priyanka began writing in her journal.
"He is not just anyone. He's 1% mystery, 99% silence. He never shares what he truly feels. But somehow, I always understand what's going on in his mind—even if he never says it."
She paused and smiled as she sketched something in her diary.
"He only draws what he wants to. That's how he expresses."
Beneath her drawing, she wrote:
"Some understandings are a bit above expressions."
If someone understands him it's all enough, for him it's A ELXIR OF LIFE.
Priyanka paused, pen resting lightly between her fingers. The words on the page shimmered slightly from the dim light of her table lamp, but the emotion behind them was vivid and unshakable. She stared at the sketch she had made — a simple outline of a boy sitting alone on a bench, back turned, gazing at the sky. A few stars dotted above him, and a faint owl flew past in the background. Her heart ached gently as she continued writing…
"He's not just quiet... he's the kind of silent that holds weight. That sacred kind of quiet where the loudest emotions live. You'll never hear him rant about his pain, you'll never see him cry, but if you truly see him... I mean really see him... you'll feel the storm he's hiding behind those calm eyes."
She swallowed hard.
"Most people talk just to be heard. But Arjun? He listens. He observes. And he only speaks when the words carry meaning. When he does speak... it's like the universe hands you a truth you didn't know you needed. That's rare. That's precious."
She looked outside at the fading moon, still glowing faintly. It reminded her of him.
"He doesn't need the spotlight. He is the moon kind of person — always watching from a distance, always there in the dark, always glowing... silently."
A tear rolled down her cheek. She didn't bother wiping it. Some tears are honest — they deserve to fall freely.
She turned another page and wrote slowly:
"Arjun is the kind of boy who carries the pain of others like it's his duty. Even when he breaks, he breaks quietly — so no one else has to feel the burden of his wounds. He disappears when he's hurting. Not because he doesn't trust you... but because he doesn't want his pain to disturb your peace. What kind of person does that?"
Her breath hitched.
"He believes being strong means being silent. But I wish... I wish he'd let someone in. I wish he'd realize that it's okay to fall apart sometimes. It's okay to let someone hold his broken pieces."
She closed her eyes and remembered the many times she had seen him zoned out in class, staring outside the window, lost in thought. Or the way he'd smile politely when someone asked if he was okay, never letting anyone in.
"Sometimes, he draws on the last page of his notebook. He never lets anyone see them. But once, I peeked."
"He had drawn a man standing under the rain, holding an umbrella — but the umbrella had holes. Water was falling on him anyway. I asked him about it. He said, 'It's life. No matter what you do to protect yourself, some things still seep in.'"
She closed the diary gently, holding it close to her chest.
"I don't know if he even realizes how many people need someone like him in their lives. Not because he solves problems. But because he makes you feel seen — even in your silence. That's what he does. That's who he is. He's a lighthouse for the ones drowning quietly."
She looked up at the sky one more time.
"Arjun… you don't have to say everything. I hear your silence. Loud and clear."
And with that, she blew out the candle and whispered to the night,
"Happy birthday, you idiot. I hope someday... you'll let yourself be understood, too."
The night faded slowly into dawn. The moon hid behind clouds, and a soft golden light began to creep into the world. But for Priyanka, the night had already carved itself into her soul — like a chapter she'd read a thousand times and still never forget.
And a laugh in a low voice came out from her room. She paused and listened again to that laugh, heart skipping a beat. Slowly, hesitantly, she tiptoed to the door and turned the knob.
As she opened it—
There stood her parents, Mr. Frenz and Ms. Frenz, in their nightclothes, looking like two ghosts caught sneaking.
She screamed, "AAAAAAA!!!!!!!... MOM!! D-DAD!!!!....."
"What is this?! Don't you have any manners?! Who disturbs someone like this in the middle of the night? And since when have you been standing there? Listening?! Seriously??!"
Without saying a word, Ms. Frenz casually walked in, flopped on her daughter's bed, and closed her eyes as if she had just come from a long movie shoot.
Mr. Frenz, on the other hand, stood with his arms folded, eyes narrowed like a detective who had just cracked a case.
"So," he began in a voice too calm to be normal, "who were you laughing with?"
Her heart dropped.
She tried to sound casual. "No one... just a video, you know..."
"Don't lie." His tone dropped. "I heard a male voice. And don't even try to say it was a filter."
She stood silent, her eyes shifting around the room, searching for a safe lie that wouldn't dig a deeper grave.
"What's his name?" Mr. Frenz's question came like a slap. "Is he your boyfriend?"
"N-no!" she said too quickly. "He's just a friend. We were—just talking about ... that's it."
"Just a friend?" he mocked. "And you laugh like that with 'just a friend'? Do you know what time it is?"
"It's not a big deal, Dad!" she snapped, the tension cracking her voice. "You're overreacting!"
"Overreacting?" he raised his voice, stepping closer. "Do you even understand the kind of things that can happen? We trusted you! And here you are—talking to boys in the middle of the night, laughing like the world doesn't exist!"
Her throat tightened. "You don't understand me... You never even try—"
"ENOUGH!" he thundered.
The room went silent. Her eyes welled up. Her fingers clenched the edge of the blanket.
But then…
A sudden burst of laughter broke the silence.
It was her mother.
Ms. Frenz, eyes still closed, burst out laughing like she had just heard the punchline of the year.
Mr. Frenz turned to her. "What the hell are you laughing at?"
"Oh, you're just priceless, Frenz," she giggled. "You're acting like you never flirted with me behind the chemistry lab."
The daughter blinked. "Wait, what?"
Mr. Frenz looked caught.
Ms. Frenz sat up, a mischievous smile on her face. "Yes, darling, your dad was the smoothest flirt in our entire batch. He used to leave sticky notes in my books with stupid pickup lines like 'Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you're Cu-Te.' I almost died of secondhand embarrassment."
"M-Mom?!"
"Oh, and don't even get me started on how he waited outside my hostel with roses during curfew. Your grandpa nearly chased him with a broom once."
Mr. Frenz looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
But then, he smiled—softly, awkwardly.
The daughter sat in stunned silence.
Ms. Frenz continued, "Yes, we had a love marriage. Yes, we were young and stupid and very much in love. And yes, it was messy, complicated, beautiful. But we also had limits, and we knew when to stop before things got out of hand."
Her voice turned gentle, maternal. "We're not mad at you for having friends. Even for liking someone. It's natural. But sweetheart, don't lose yourself in it. Don't let your life revolve around someone else's presence or attention. Friendship is fine—wonderful, even. But getting too involved, too soon, can hurt. I know. I've seen it happen."
The daughter swallowed hard, her emotions a tangled knot of guilt, surprise, and relief.
Mr. Frenz stepped forward and placed a hand on her head. "I'm sorry I shouted. I just… worry. You're our only child. We want you to be safe. I want you to be strong enough to say 'no' when you need to. Smart enough to walk away when something's not right."
She looked up at him, eyes watery. "I'm sorry, Dad."
He smiled, his eyes soft now. "Just promise me… don't lie to us. Talk to us. We're not your enemies."
"I promise," she whispered.
And in that small, crowded bedroom, in the middle of the night, under flickering yellow lights, the three of them laughed again—this time, together.
It wasn't just about a boy.
It was about trust.
It was about growing up.
And most of all, it was about knowing that home… was a place where even mistakes could be forgiven—with a little honesty, a little laughter, and a lot of love.