Aarohi
By the time the house lights dimmed and the murmurs of the crowd softened into silence, Aarohi was already moving into position.
The host was already on stage.
“Welcome to an evening of elegance, stories, and legacy — welcome to the Oberoi Jewelry Showcase!”
Applause echoed.
Lights dimmed.
The music rose.
Aarohi stepped to the side, watching the crowd, checking cues on her earpiece.
“Segment two in five,” the stage manager’s voice crackled.
She nodded, gave a thumbs up, and walked briskly toward the backstage exit, her heels clicking softly on the marble. Her dress swayed with purpose — elegant, composed. But her mind was ticking — every second counted.
She wasn’t just responsible for this event.
She had invested in it.
Her company, MYRAH GROUP, had co-sponsored the heritage segment.
Every impression made tonight — every photograph, every reaction — reflected on her brand, too.
In the crowd, Aarav settled into his seat in the reserved row.
He barely glanced at the stage — his attention drawn to a quick conversation with one of the investors seated beside him. A waiter paused with a tray of wine, blocking the view for a second.
The show began.
Spotlights shifted. Models stepped onto the runway, each draped in silk and adorned in rare stones.
Applause rolled gently through the air.
Vivaan moved between groups of VIPs, checking on arrangements. Halfway through, he pulled out his phone and messaged Aarohi.
“Come to the right wing. Want to introduce you to someone.”
She saw it during a lightning break and replied:
“2 mins. Just fixing the media seats.”
Vivaan nodded to himself and turned toward Aarav. “There’s someone you should meet — she’s not only handling PR but also one of the key investors in this segment.”
Aarav gave a polite nod, stood up with him, and followed him halfway backstage.
But just before they reached the corridor — chaos.
A crash echoed from the left side of the stage — a spotlight had tipped.
Not dangerous, but loud enough to startle guests and delay the next walk.
Aarohi heard it first.
She turned around instantly, rushing to the console team.
“I told them to lock that stand! Where’s Arjun? Fix it now before we lose the next cue!”
Vivaan turned toward the sound, frowning. “What the hell—”
Aarav paused. “Problem?”
“Apparently,” Vivaan muttered. “Hold on, I’ll be back.”
But he never returned.
By the time Aarohi resolved the glitch and returned to the central floor, the final model was already walking down the ramp.
She exhaled. Relief — mixed with exhaustion.
Somewhere in the crowd, Aarav clapped lightly, appreciating the show’s finish.
Both of them —
on different ends of the ballroom.
Present. In control.
Never once crossing paths.
---
As the final music faded and the lights dimmed to a soft amber hue, applause filled the grand hall. Glasses clinked, cameras flashed, and congratulations floated from every corner.
Aarohi stood near the control booth, her clipboard finally tucked under her arm. Neha approached, wide-eyed.
“You pulled it off. As an investor and as a lead — total queen move.”
Aarohi smiled — a soft, tired smile. “Almost.”
She turned to look at the ballroom one last time.
Across the room, Aarav adjusted his jacket, checking the time. He had another meeting early the next morning.
“Let’s go?” he said to Vivaan, who had just returned.
“You didn’t meet her,” Vivaan said. “The co-investor and PR head. I wanted you two to connect.”
Aarav shrugged slightly. “Maybe next ti
me.”
Vivaan laughed. “You two are always in the same place, never the same moment.”
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