Episode 5:A Whisper In The Dark
588 Words
The morning of the performance arrived not with fanfare, but with the kind of stillness that warned of something unnatural. The sky was smeared with slate grey. The rain had stopped, but the air smelled like electricity held its breath.
The auditorium was packed. Faculty, students, alumni, critics. Even a few media outlets had come. The whispers were already there: “This one’s different.” “They’ve redefined campus theatre.” “It’s going to be political.”
None of them knew the storm had already begun backstage.
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The Envelope
It started with a white envelope, slipped under the greenroom door.
No name. No handwriting.
Inside was a USB drive.
On it, a video.
22 seconds.
Grainy. Black and white. Filmed through the narrow slit of a curtain.
Anirban and Rwik.
In the mask room.
Close.
Intimate.
Not scandalous. Not graphic. But unmistakably personal.
The footage paused just before their foreheads touched.
No sound. No names.
But it didn’t need either.
The faces were enough.
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The Reaction
The footage was copied. Spread. Quietly at first.
Within hours, it had been passed from one phone to another, shared through messaging groups, and emailed anonymously to three university departments.
Some watched in silence. Some laughed. Some zoomed in.
But none questioned the authenticity.
That evening, the head of the Drama Society received three calls asking if the show should be canceled.
By then, the damage was done.
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The Collapse
Arko heard about the leak from Ishaan.
“Have you seen it?” he asked.
Arko shook his head.
Ishaan looked away. “It’s bad.”
Arko didn’t need to see it.
He already had.
He had lived it.
Tara stormed into the greenroom mid-dress rehearsal.
“Who the f*** leaked this?”
No one answered.
Rwik stood frozen, half-dressed in Caesar’s robes. He looked straight at Arko.
“You think it was me?” Arko asked, softly.
Rwik didn’t answer.
Silence is an answer too.
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The Fallout
Mrittika walked out of the theatre after seeing the video. She didn’t come back.
Tara shouted at Anirban, “Why didn’t you protect him?”
Anirban looked tired. “You think I haven’t tried?”
Ishika was silent. Watching.
Always watching.
Arko stood in the hallway, hand clenched around his pen.
He opened his notebook.
Wrote just one line:
> “A whisper can ruin what thunder couldn’t.”
He tore out the page. Left it on the director’s table. Walked away.
That was the last time any of them saw him at Jadavpur.
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The Post-Mortem
The play was canceled.
Official reason: “Unforeseen logistical complications.”
Unofficial reason: Scandal.
Anirban left the city within days.
Rwik stopped performing.
Tara turned to activism full-time.
Mrittika went abroad.
Ishika and Ishaan stayed—but never spoke of it again.
The group, once poetry, dissolved into silence.
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The Unsent Letters
Arko wrote three letters before leaving.
One to Rwik.
One to Tara.
One to himself.
None were mailed.
The letter to Rwik read:
> “You didn’t need to love me back.
You just had to believe me.”
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And Far Away…
In an anonymous email draft, left unsent on a borrowed college library computer, a confession was typed.
> “I didn’t mean to destroy it all.
I just wanted to stop something before it started.
I thought if I warned them—just enough—they’d stop.
I didn’t know the world would burn.”
No name.
No signature.
Only one person knew the password.
---
- Writer
