Written by Ayan
The soft hum of the CPU fan was the only sound in Ayan's dimly lit room. His eyes, glazed with a mix of curiosity and fatigue, were fixed on the glowing screen. Sixteen years old, a quiet boy from Bareilly, Ayan had always found more comfort in texts and typing than in talking. The online world was his escape—a place where he could be anyone, without judgment.
But that day felt heavier.
He stared at a message that had shattered something inside him. "I'm sorry… I just don't feel the same way."The girl he'd silently admired from afar had politely rejected his feelings. No drama. No harsh words. Just a cold, polite wall of truth.
"Rejection hurts more when there's silence after," Ayan muttered to himself, pulling his knees up onto the chair.
A ping broke the silence. It was Dhiraj—his closest friend.Dhiraj: Bro… she didn't deserve your heart anyway.Ayan: Maybe. But it still hurts, yaar.Dhiraj: Same pinch. Mine dumped me after summer for some guy from her tuition. We're in this heartbreak club together now.
Ayan smiled faintly. Dhiraj always knew what to say. Their bond wasn't loud—it was silent understanding. Two boys nursing fresh wounds in a noisy digital world.
New Connections
In the following days, Ayan's digital world began to expand.
Sonu, a quiet, philosophical boy from Jaipur, became one of his regular chatmates. "Log zindagi mei sabse zyada khud se darte hain," Sonu once said during a late-night chat. People fear themselves the most in life. It hit Ayan deep.
Then came Diwakar, a confident yet recently heartbroken guy from Lucknow. He had a way of making even pain sound practical. "Tu rota kyun hai, bhai? Ek gaya toh dusra ayega," he'd say. "Bas uss 'dusre' ke liye better version ban ja."
And finally—Ishu.
Ishu was chaos. Pure, unapologetic chaos. His love life was a rollercoaster of exes, screenshots, and accidental group chats. One evening, with a typical "bro yeh dekh" vibe, Ishu added Ayan to a new group:Group name: Chill Bhayankar VibesMembers: Ishu, Ayan, and… Maksuda.
The First Message
Maksuda was from Howrah, West Bengal. She was 15—young, but her messages felt composed and thoughtful. Not overly formal, but never silly. Ayan felt calm when chatting with her.
"Hi," she had typed.
"Hey," Ayan replied nervously.
"What brings you here?"
"Boredom… heartbreak... Ishu," he chuckled.
She sent a laughing emoji, and that was the beginning.
Days passed. Conversations got longer. Ayan and Maksuda started talking about school, future dreams, favorite colors, and even their weird habits. Her voice notes made him smile. Her typing speed impressed him.
Then, on July 27, it happened.
"I think I like you," Ayan texted, heart racing.
For a minute, no reply. Then—
"I like you too."
That was it. No grand gesture, no long wait. Just a quiet miracle inside a message bubble.
The Highs... and the Cracks
By July 29, they were celebrating one month together. Ayan had never felt this alive. She was sweet, she listened, and she made him feel wanted. This was the connection he had always searched for.
But soon, cracks began to show.
"Ayan… I was talking to Akash about our project," she messaged one evening.
"Again Akash?" Ayan's reply was instant—and colder than he intended.
Akash. Her male best friend. The name made Ayan feel like something was slipping from his hands. He tried to ignore it, but the jealousy was eating him up.
"I don't like how close you are to him," he finally told her.
"That's not fair," she replied. "He's been my friend for years. I can't just stop talking to him."
Ayan blocked Akash on all platforms. Maksuda found out. They argued. Harsh words were exchanged.
"You don't trust me, Ayan."
"You always choose him over me."
It wasn't about Akash anymore—it was about how insecure and scared Ayan had become.
The End of Us
Two months passed. Fights became frequent. Conversations shortened. Voice notes stopped.
Ayan sent her a long message one night:"Let's just break up. You deserve someone who trusts you. I… I'm not that person right now."
She didn't argue. She simply replied: "Maybe it's for the best. Take care, Ayan."
And that was it.
No begging. No dramatic goodbye. Just two hearts quietly disconnecting.
Reflection
After the breakup, Ayan felt numb. He went silent in the group chats. Sonu messaged him often. Diwakar even called once. But Ayan just needed time.
In those quiet nights, he started reflecting—not just on Maksuda, but on himself. His possessiveness. His fear of being left. His need to control what he couldn't.
"She wasn't the problem," he whispered once, staring at the screen. "I was afraid of losing something I never truly owned."
He knew now that love wasn't just about being with someone—it was about being okay with yourself first.
End of Chapter 1
Author's Note:This chapter introduces Ayan's first emotional journey into love and heartbreak. The digital space that once felt like an escape becomes a space of lessons. Through his connection with Maksuda and his friends, Ayan begins a coming-of-age journey that teaches him resilience, trust, and self-awareness.