The First Day
674 Words
The gates of Silverwood College towered in front of Aanya Kapoor like the start of a new adventure. She took a deep breath, adjusted her bag, and smiled.
“First day. New city. New college. Let’s make this count,” she whispered to herself.
The campus buzzed with energy — groups of students chatting, bikes revving, the faint smell of chai and samosas drifting from the canteen. Aanya’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. Everything felt new, bright, alive.
Her first class was English Literature. She slid into a seat near the window, taking in the lecture, the people, the atmosphere. The professor’s voice faded into the background as she doodled little sketches in her notebook — students whispering, someone dozing off, someone secretly texting.
“Devgarh has character,” she murmured, glancing outside at the college lawn. “Every face tells a story.”
When the lecture ended, a few girls came over.
“You’re new, right?” one of them asked.
“Yeah. Aanya,” she said with a smile.
“I’m Jiya. Welcome to Silverwood. Just a piece of advice…” Jiya leaned in, lowering her voice. “Stay away from Rudra Mehra.”
Aanya blinked. “Rudra who?”
The girls exchanged looks. “You’ll know soon enough.”
They walked off, leaving her curious — and slightly amused. “Stay away?” she whispered. “Now I have to see who this Rudra Mehra is.”
☀️ Later that Day
After two more lectures, Aanya decided to explore the campus courtyard. The place was crowded — laughter, shouting, the sound of basketballs bouncing. It felt like any other college afternoon… until the noise shifted.
The laughter died down. Students began gathering in a circle.
Aanya frowned. “What’s going on?”
She moved closer, weaving through the crowd — and then she saw it.
Three seniors stood in the middle of the circle, their smirks sharp, their tone threatening. A scared-looking junior was cornered against the wall, clutching his bag.
“New guy thinks he’s too cool to respect seniors, huh?” one of them sneered.
“I-I didn’t mean—” the junior stammered.
Before anyone could move, another voice cut through the noise — low, calm, commanding.
“Let him go.”
The crowd shifted. Rudra Mehra stepped forward.
Leather jacket, black jeans, messy hair — confidence radiating off him like heat. His friends — Kabir, Aman, and Dev — followed close behind, their expressions unreadable.
“Rudra, stay out of this,” one senior warned, puffing his chest. “This is between us and—”
Rudra didn’t let him finish. In one smooth motion, he stepped closer, gripping the guy’s collar just enough to make his point clear.
“I said… let him go.”
The silence was heavy. The senior’s arrogance cracked instantly. He released the terrified junior and took a step back.
Rudra’s eyes stayed locked on him. “You want to play hero, do it outside the campus. Inside here, respect comes first.”
Aman smirked from the back. “Guess they didn’t get the memo, boss.”
Rudra let go of the senior, straightened his jacket, and walked away — calm as ever.
The crowd slowly dispersed, whispering.
“Did you see that?”
“Bro, Rudra’s back for real.”
Aanya stood still, eyes wide. The scene replayed in her mind — his steady gaze, the effortless control, the quiet strength that made everyone listen.
He hadn’t yelled. He hadn’t even thrown a punch. Yet everyone had listened.
She felt a strange mix of awe and curiosity.
“So that’s him…” she murmured. “The one they said to stay away from.”
A small smile crept onto her face. “Yeah, right.”
That afternoon, as Rudra walked past the courtyard again, his friends joked about the fight, but he wasn’t paying attention. Somewhere nearby, a pair of curious eyes were watching him — sketching his silhouette on a clean page of her notebook.
Not out of fear.
But fascination.
- Writer
