It was the kind of Mumbai afternoon that clung to your skin—a sticky mix of traffic noise, humid air, and the scent of frying pakoras from the street vendor two lanes away. Aarohi Deshmukh wiped her brow with the edge of her faded dupatta as she stepped down from the bus, her worn college bag thumping against her hip. The chaos of the city swirled around her: auto-rickshaws honking, chai vendors shouting, and somewhere in the distance, a child crying for candy.
But none of it touched her. Not really.
Because in her ears, plugged into a cheap pair of tangled white earphones, played the one thing that made everything bearable.
"Fly with me to the light, beyond the stars..."
The voice was warm velvet and bright moonlight. It wasn't just a song. It was a promise.
Jae-min's voice.
Lead vocalist of SOLARIS.
Her escape.
Aarohi walked the dusty shortcut home, careful to avoid the muddy patch where monsoon rains had left a permanent scar. She didn't mind the mess. She'd memorized every crack in the pavement, every burst pipe and stray dog that watched her pass like a familiar.
Her house came into view—a two-room matchbox stacked between others like it, a whisper of yellow paint clinging to the crumbling wall. Her mother's silhouette moved behind the curtain. Home.
She pulled out her earphones, and the world came rushing back in.
"Aaru! Jaldi aao, gas ka cylinder khatam ho gaya!" (Hurry, the gas is out!)
"Coming, Maa!"
Inside, she dropped her bag, tied her dupatta tighter, and took over the kitchen. Her fingers moved by memory, cutting onions while listening to her younger brother complain about homework and her mother scold him between mouthfuls of tiredness.
And yet, her heart beat to a different rhythm.
That night, after chores, after coaxing her brother to sleep and washing the last dish in lukewarm water, Aarohi climbed onto the small terrace. The sky above was polluted and starless, but she looked up anyway.
She held her phone close, thumb hovering over the "play" button.
There he was. Jae-min. On screen.
The live performance from Seoul, blurry with subtitles and someone screaming in the background. He smiled right before the chorus, hand reaching out like he was touching her soul through pixels.
"You're not alone, even if no one sees your tears..."
She bit her lip. She hadn't cried today. Not really. But maybe that line knew more than she did.
When the song ended, she didn't press replay.
Instead, she opened her notes app and typed a single line:
"One day, I want to thank you. Not as a fan, but as someone who got through because of you."
She stared at it for a long time.
And then deleted it.
Across the world, in a dressing room flooded with mirrors and perfume, Jae-min sat in silence.
He was surrounded by noise—managers arguing, stylists adjusting clothing racks, and staff prepping for the next fan meet. But he didn't hear any of it.
His fingers hovered over a lyric notebook.
A single phrase repeated in his mind.
"Someone is calling... but I don't know from where."
He hadn't written it. Not consciously. But it was there, scrawled in his handwriting from the night before.
And it wouldn't leave him.
Back in Mumbai, Aarohi awoke the next morning to the sound of a fan spinning lazily above her head.
She dressed quickly, skipping breakfast to reach the local library early. Her college exams were nearing, and her job at the café meant she had to squeeze time like water from a dry sponge.
But as she passed the electronics shop on the corner, something made her stop.
On the screen: "SOLARIS World Tour: London Next!"
She stood frozen, eyes locked on the headline. Behind the glass, Jae-min smiled in a sparkling silver jacket, his hair soft and eyes kind.
Aarohi didn't blink.
"London..."
It might as well have been another planet.
Her fingers tightened around her bag. She couldn't afford it. She knew that. Couldn't even afford a new pair of shoes.
But for a moment, her heart rebelled.
What if?
What if she could go? Just once. See them live. Cheer them on. Be a part of something bigger than herself?
The thought was so blinding, she had to step back.
She walked away quickly, ashamed of herself. What use were dreams when gas cylinders were running out and rent was overdue?
But that night, the whisper returned.
When the moon was hidden and the wind had stilled, Aarohi heard it.
A voice.
Not from her phone. Not from any speaker.
Inside her mind.
"So pure. So bright. So... wasteful. Why shine for someone who doesn't even know you exist?"
She froze.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
No reply.
Only silence.
And the faint hum of a melody only she could hear.
The same melody that had saved her.
Jae-min's voice.
But now... twisted.
In Seoul, Jae-min sat up in bed, breathless.
His dream had been strange.
A girl with dark eyes. Holding a fanlight. Reaching for him in a crowd.
But just before he touched her hand, the lights went out.
He awoke with her name on his lips.
But he didn't know it.
Back on the terrace, Aarohi whispered into the night.
"If there's a way to protect him... let me be the one."
Somewhere, the stars flickered.
And the demon began to smile.