Chapter 2 - The Illusion of a Date

Cameras flashed.

Voices murmured.

Whispers followed them as Manik guided Nandini towards the waiting car, his hand firm around hers—not warm, not cold… just controlled.

To Nandini, that touch meant everything.

To Manik, it meant survival.

The car door shut behind them, cutting off the chaos outside.

Silence.

A heavy one.

Nandini was the first to speak, her excitement barely contained.

“Yeh… yeh sab itna unreal lag raha hai,” she smiled nervously. “Main kabhi sochi bhi nahi thi ki—”

“Seatbelt,” Manik interrupted calmly, eyes fixed ahead.

“Oh— haan,” she fumbled immediately, embarrassed, fastening it quickly.

The car started moving. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Manik leaned back, exhaling slowly, loosening his tie just a little. The mask he wore outside—the charming smile, the calm confidence—slipped ever so slightly.

Nandini noticed.

She hesitated, then softly said, “Manik… aap okay ho na?”

He turned to look at her.

Really look.

Her eyes were shining.

Not with greed.

Not with obsession.

With belief.

“Yes,” he replied curtly. “I’m fine.” The way he said it told her not to ask again.

They reached a quiet café—tastefully chosen, discreet, away from crowds. Still, a few cameras lingered at a distance.

Manik stepped out first, instantly slipping back into his public persona.

He held the door open for her. “Careful,” he said politely.

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Inside, they were seated at a corner table.

“So,” Nandini began, hands clasped tightly on her lap. “I never thought I’d actually get to meet you like this.”

Manik picked up the menu without looking at her. “Neither did I.”

She laughed softly, thinking it was a joke.

“I mean… I’ve followed your journey since the beginning,” she continued. “Your music—it helped me a lot. Especially when—”

“When?” he asked, finally looking up.

She paused. “When things were… difficult.”

Manik studied her for a moment longer than necessary.

“Music lies,” he said suddenly.

She blinked. “Kya?”

“It pretends to heal,” he continued flatly. “But most of the time, it just distracts.”

Nandini frowned slightly, confused.

“But aapke songs—”

“—are just songs,” he cut in.

That stung.

The waiter arrived, breaking the tension. After ordering, Nandini gathered courage again.

“Manik… can I ask you something?”

He nodded once.

“Yeh jo media bol rahi hai,” she said hesitantly, “woh sab… sach hai kya?”

His jaw tightened.

“Does it matter?”

She looked down. “Mujhe farak padta hai.”

That was honest.

Too honest.

Manik leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“Miss Murthy,” he said calmly, “you won this contest to go on a date. Not to ask questions.”

Her face fell. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax,” he said, leaning back again.

“You’re doing great.”

But his eyes didn’t match his words.

Outside, Nyonika watched from across the street, a slow smile spreading across her lips as cameras clicked.

Inside the café, Nandini smiled again—trying to hold on to her dream.

Unaware that this date wasn’t a date at all.

It was a deal.

And she was standing right at the edge of it.