The forested mountain peaks stood like silent sentinels in the background as the sleek black car wound its way up the road. The steady hum of asphalt and gravel beneath the tires filled the quiet cabin — a low, constant background sound.

The driver looked straight ahead, his posture disciplined, though his eyes flicked periodically to the rearview mirror — a small, nervous habit he didn’t bother hiding. In the backseat, a young man sat, gaze fixed on the passing scenery.

Nikhil Goyal stared out of the window, his face arranged in a carefully curated mask of neutrality. His chin rested against his wrist, his expression faintly distant. Though his face betrayed nothing, anyone who knew him well would recognize the subtle tension — a clear sign of displeasure.

The chauffeur, a man who had worked for the Goyal family for years and had practically seen the young master grow up, wasn’t fooled by the façade. He knew better than to comment.

“We’re about to arrive, sir,” he said after a moment. “The college is only a few minutes from here.”

“…Right.”

Nikhil’s voice was flat, his gaze unmoving. His reflection blurred against the passing trees.

From the pocket of his hoodie, his phone buzzed — again. The screen lit up with the same caller ID that had flashed countless times throughout the journey. He neither silenced it nor picked it up. He simply let it ring, his focus unmoved from the window and the scenery beyond.

The phone continued its persistent vibration — a frantic hum he could feel through the fabric of his hoodie — until it eventually went unanswered and slipped into voicemail. Again.

She’d know he was ignoring her on purpose. He wanted her to.

As the car began to slow, Nikhil’s gaze wandered outside. His own reflection stared back at him through the polished glass, merging with the sight of the college grounds coming into view.

The medical college — a private, well-known institution with a strong reputation — seemed like a world of its own nestled in the hills. The buildings stood in neat rows of renovated colonial structures, old charm preserved beneath modern restoration. At the entrance, the wrought-iron gates stood open, revealing the administrative block beyond.

Parents and students moved about in mild chaos — to be expected, since this was the last day of the third counselling round. The ones who had already arrived were busy completing the remaining admission formalities.

“Chairman sir already said all your formalities are done,” the driver said, glancing in the mirror when he noticed Nikhil’s gaze linger on the administrative building. “The young master need not worry about any of that.”

“Of course.”

Nikhil couldn’t quite soften the curtness in his tone. He knew it wasn’t the driver’s fault, but the mention of his father irritated him. Especially after that argument.

The car moved forward again, slowing near the dormitory area as the driver rolled down his window to ask a security guard for directions to the boys’ hostel.

Nikhil lowered his own window slightly. The evening air, crisp and faintly cool, touched his face — carrying the scent of wet earth and pine. It caught in his hair, making the light brown curls glint almost golden under the dusky sky.

He inhaled deeply. The air here was startlingly clean, such a sharp contrast to Delhi’s heavy, polluted breath that it almost felt surreal. Even though he’d known the college was in the hills, he hadn’t expected the difference to feel this… alive.

He took another slow breath, feeling the cool breeze settle in his chest. For a fleeting moment, it was peaceful.

Then the silence broke — a ringtone slicing through it like an unwelcome echo. Not his, this time.

The driver answered quickly, his voice professional, tinged with the quiet urgency of someone used to reporting updates.

“Yes, madam. We’ve just arrived… yes, he’s fine… I’ll make sure he goes in safely…”

Nikhil tuned it out deliberately, eyes fixed on anything but the reflection of the conversation in the mirror.

The car came to a final stop in front of the boys’ hostel. Nikhil stepped out before the driver could say another word. The moment his shoes hit the ground, his neutral mask shifted — dissolving into something easier, lighter.

In place of that impassive calm was a friendly, open expression. Where his lips had been pressed into a line before, now there was an easy, charming grin. His hazel-green eyes, dull with irritation only moments ago, glimmered with warmth and practiced friendliness.

The driver climbed out as well, pulling Nikhil’s bags from the trunk. “Let me help you take them to your room—”

“No need,” Nikhil interrupted smoothly, already taking hold of the suitcase handle. He slung a black backpack over one shoulder. “Thanks for the ride. I’ve got it from here.”

The driver hesitated, then nodded with a relieved smile. “Madam has told me to stay in the nearby city. If you need anything, feel free to call me.”

“Of course,” Nikhil replied, voice soft and easy — laced with that calm charm that seemed to physically relax the older man’s shoulders.

Inside, though, he was still simmering. He wasn’t the sort to take out his irritation on people who didn’t deserve it, but the anger was there — quietly burning.

The driver lingered a moment longer, as if waiting for Nikhil to say something — perhaps a message to his parents. But Nikhil only smiled, silent. When it was clear nothing more would be said, the man sighed and got back into the car.

“Then, I’ll be going now.”

Nikhil watched as the car pulled away, the faint crunch of tires fading down the slope.

Only when it disappeared from view did he turn back — his gaze lifting to the line of buildings ahead.

The boys’ hostel rose before him, its lights flickering on one by one as evening deepened.

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