They always felt fake.

One day people remembered you.

The next day they forgot you existed.

So naturally, she had no idea why she was standing outside a bakery at seven in the morning.

Half asleep.

Annoyed.

And holding a small cake box.

"This is stupid."

She looked at the cake.

Then at the cake.

Then back at the cake.

Still stupid.

---

The previous night kept replaying in her head.

"My father forgot my birthday."

The sadness in Aaradhya's voice had refused to leave her alone.

And now here she was.

Doing something nice.

Disgusting.

---

College started normally.

Aaradhya looked exactly the same.

Perfect posture.

Perfect hair.

Perfect smile for everyone else.

But Nila noticed something nobody else did.

The tiredness hidden behind her eyes.

The disappointment she pretended wasn't there.

Nila hated that she noticed.

---

By lunchtime, Aaradhya was sitting alone in an empty classroom working on notes.

As usual.

Nila pushed the door open.

Aaradhya looked up.

Surprised.

"What are you doing here?"

"Breaking and entering."

Aaradhya rolled her eyes.

"You have a strange hobby."

Nila placed the box on the desk.

Aaradhya frowned.

"What is that?"

"A bomb."

"Nila."

"Fine. Open it."

Aaradhya hesitated.

Slowly lifted the lid.

Inside sat a small chocolate cake.

Nothing fancy.

Just simple.

But written across the top in messy icing were three words.

**DON'T LOOK SAD**

Silence.

Complete silence.

Aaradhya stared at it.

Then at Nila.

Then back at the cake.

As if she couldn't process it.

"You bought this?"

"No. A mysterious billionaire."

The corner of Aaradhya's mouth twitched.

Then suddenly—Her eyes became wet.

Nila panicked instantly.

"Oh no."

Aaradhya looked away quickly.

"Nila..."

"Oh no."

"You idiot."

"Oh God, you're crying."

"I'm not crying."

"You are absolutely crying."

A laugh escaped Aaradhya through her tears.

And somehow that made everything worse.

Because she looked heartbreakingly beautiful.

---

"Nobody has done this before."

The words came out quietly.

Honestly.

Nila's chest tightened.

Because she believed her.

Aaradhya wasn't talking about cakes.

She was talking about being remembered.

Being important.

Being chosen.

And for some reason...

Nila had wanted to give her that.

---

Aaradhya suddenly cut a small piece and held it toward her.

Nila frowned.

"What?"

"Take it."

"No."

"Why?"

"I bought it."

"So?"

"So feeding myself feels weird."

Aaradhya laughed softly.

Then held it closer.

"Take it."

Nila stared at her.

Then reluctantly leaned forward and took a bite.

The moment lasted barely three seconds.

Yet somehow neither looked away afterward.

The air felt different.

Warmer.

Closer.

Dangerous.

---

That evening, they walked out of campus together.

A first.

Neither mentioned it.

Neither questioned it.

It simply happened.

The sunset painted everything gold.

Students passed by them.

Cars moved across the road.

The city continued as usual.

But for Nila...

Something felt different.

For the first time in years...

Walking beside someone felt natural.

Comfortable.

Like she didn't need to pretend.

---

As they reached the bus stop, Aaradhya suddenly stopped.

"Nila."

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

Nila looked away immediately.

"Stop saying thank you."

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

Aaradhya smiled.

The real smile.

Not the polite one.

The one reserved for moments she genuinely meant.

"I'll keep saying it."

Nila groaned dramatically.

"You're impossible."

"And you're kinder than you pretend."

The sentence landed directly in Nila's chest.

She hated it.

Because it was true.

---

That night, Nila received a message.

Just one.

No explanation.

No context.

A photo.

It was the cake.

Placed carefully on Aaradhya's bedside table.

Beside her favorite books.

As if it were something precious.

Beneath the picture were only four words.

**I won't forget today.**

Nila stared at the message for a long time.

Longer than she should have.

Then she smiled.

A small smile.

The kind nobody ever saw.

And for the first time...

The idea of becoming important to someone didn't feel terrifying.

It felt nice.