𝔽𝕀𝕃𝕆𝔽𝕆𝔹𝕀𝕊𝕂

𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟

After that day of Danish and Candice meeting, I was sleep deprived for three days. I tossed on my bed all night thinking about that day, letting sleep winking goodbye at me. I couldn't keep my mind focused on anything. I had my fest going on and it was hard for me to concentrate on anything, other than Danish.

A voice in the back of my head said there was something I should be concerned about, something I should know.

I always knew Danish was hiding something from me, but I thought it would be a past that he was trying to forget, just like me.

That day when we were at the fountain, I saw him crying and I knew there was something bothering him. But I gave him his space and time. Then, the way he was trying to block me from seeing his brother the day I visited him. Then also I shook it off, giving him his space and time. But this time, the way Candice's eyes were piercing through Danish as if she wanted to rip him apart and him avoiding those eyes that said a thousand words. Those eyes that said secrets of Danish Rivera.

I didn't get the appreciation as I did on the first day of our film fest. My teachers and students of other departments pointed out malfunctions here and there to which I just signed and nodded my head. I didn't have any energy left in me as I didn't have a good sleep at all. Making the fest a triumph was what I was aiming for from the day of conceptualization. But right now, it was all Danish, Danish and Danish.

I tried asking Clay about it. How did his sister know Danish? Why did she say that? What did she mean by that? What was she hiding? What was Danish hiding?

These questions demanded answers and Clay was my only reliable source. But he was avoiding me like plague. Whenever I tried talking to him, he excused himself saying he was busy with the fest, Amy was waiting, he wanted to make a call and all. I waited keenly for the fest to get over.

I was a person that would ask and say anything straightforwardly, irrespective of the person. But somehow, I couldn't get myself to do the same with Danish. As I tried making up my mind to ask him, the thought of whether I was overthinking gradually crawled up my mind and made me zip my mouth. Being an overthinker had its pros and cons and I realized that only now.

When I was here battling myself to confront Danish or not, he, on the other hand, was happy, goofy and romantic as always. His face didn't show any kind of cloak-and-dagger, always his perfect million dollar smile playing on his lips. That very smile made it even harder for me to take a step and seek for the truth.

»»---------------------►

"Clay!" I called him, making him turn back and look at me.

The smile he had on his face dropped just like that when he saw me beckoning him to come to me. As guessed, he was reluctant to. Taking slow steps, Clay stood in front of me, avoiding my gaze.

"Clay," I called to which he looked at me properly, after 2 days.

"Yeah?"

"I need to ask you something," I said to which he just nodded his head. "How does your sister know Danish?"

"Hmm..well, you know. They went to the same college," he answered.

"No, Clay. They aren't just college mates and I know that as well as you. There is something else I should know, right?"

"I don't know anything, Elka," he said to which I gritted my teeth.

"You prick, stop lying to me. You don't know how to lie so accept that and tell what the fuck you're hiding from me," I growled, losing my non-existing patience.