The next day, the sun-drenched college ground was buzzing with the usual energy of students between classes. Kiara was deep in discussion with Anya and their friend group, her arms flailing dramatically.
"…and then he just called me 'so-so'! Can you believe the audacity?" she huffed, still smarting from the insult. "I'm telling you, he saved me, but there's something seriously suspicious about him."
Anya giggled, nudging her. "Before a boy could dare to comment on Kiara Shetty's looks and live to tell the tale, he is no ordinary boy. So, come on, give us the real tea! How hot and handsome is this 'villain' of yours?"
Kiara's mind instantly conjured the image: the sharp, beautiful features, the long, dark hair, the captivating cat-like eyes, the tempting glimpse of his chest, the effortless, dangerous swag. Her cheeks warmed slightly.
"He's… not so handsome," she lied, looking away. "Just… pretty, in a weird way. And his lips are too pink."
Her friends erupted in laughter, not buying a word of it. "Pretty? Pink lips? Kiara, you're blushing!"
Just then, the roar of a powerful engine cut through the campus chatter. A sleek, expensive car, driven with reckless, attention-seeking speed, screeched into the main ground, kicking up a cloud of dust before coming to a dramatic halt right in the center.
All eyes turned to the spectacle. The driver's door opened, and a leg clad in tailored black trousers emerged, followed by the man himself.
Yuvaan Pratap Singh stepped out, the morning sun glinting off his black ear studs. He was dressed entirely in black, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his sculpted chest. His long hair was swept back, and an aura of pure, unapologetic villainy radiated from him. He scanned the crowd, his gaze a lazy, predatory sweep.
A moment later, the passenger door opened, and Angad stepped out, looking slightly embarrassed by the grand entrance. But no one was looking at Angad.
A collective, silent gasp seemed to ripple through the female student population. Eyes widened, whispers broke out, and phones were subtly raised to take pictures. They were utterly captivated, completely smitten by the dangerous new arrival.
Kiara's jaw had dropped. She stared, her heart doing a frantic, unwanted tap-dance against her ribs. "It's him," she whispered, her voice tight.
Anya, mesmerized, grabbed her arm. "Kiara! Who is that? He's… he's unbelievable!"
Kiara finally tore her eyes away from Yuvaan, who was now leaning against his car with a knowing smirk, to look at her star-struck friends.
"That," she said, her voice a mixture of dread and fascination, "is the villain."
---
Before Kiara could process the situation, Anya and her friends grabbed her arms, pulling her across the lawn in a giggling, determined rush toward the new campus sensation. They formed a small, chattering circle around Yuvaan and a flustered Angad.
"Hi! Welcome to our college!"
"You're new,right? Do you need help finding your classes?"
"You have such amazing hair!"
Yuvaan offered them a practiced, charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He held up a hand, a gesture that was both polite and dismissive. "Ladies, please, one at a time." Then, his gaze slid past the adoring fans and landed directly on Kiara, who was trying to hang back. He feigned a look of thoughtful recognition.
"Wait... I've seen you somewhere," he said, tilting his head as if searching his memory.
Kiara's eyes narrowed. The audacity! Someone met Kiara Shetty and forgot her? Her pride, still bruised from the "so-so" comment, flared up instantly.
A slow, teasing smirk spread across Yuvaan's face as he finally "placed" her. "Oh, it's you. The damsel in distress with a thankless attitude."
The surrounding girls gasped softly, looking between them. Kiara stepped forward, refusing to be cowed in front of her friends.
"And you're the fake 'setup' hero," she shot back, her voice crisp and clear, laced with accusation.
The air crackled with tension. Their friends fell silent, watching the verbal tennis match unfold. Angad looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
Yuvaan's smirk only widened. He had successfully gotten under her skin again. The game was officially on campus, and their first public exchange had already set the stage for a war of wits and wills.
"Hi!" Anya chirped, her voice an octave higher than usual. "You're new, right? Welcome to the college! We were wondering if we could, maybe, get a selfie with you?"
Yuvaan's gaze slid over the group of eager girls, his eyes lingering for a fraction of a second on Kiara's unamused face before returning to Anya with a charming smile.
"Of course," he said, his voice a smooth, velvety baritone that made several girls sigh.
As her friends instantly huddled around him, jostling to get into the frame next to him, Kiara found herself pushed to the back of the group. Before she could even decide if she wanted to be in the photo, Yuvaan's voice cut through the giggles.
He wasn't looking at her, but his words were clearly meant for her ears. "The girl in the back," he said, his tone light and playful. "Kiara, right? Could you scoot back just a bit more? You're blocking the sun. It needs to reflect properly on all this beauty."
The insult, delivered as a casual, photographic directive, was a masterstroke. Her friends, already arranged around him, just giggled in agreement, too mesmerized to see the calculated dismissal. Face burning with a potent mix of fury and humiliation, Kiara took two sharp, deliberate steps backward, now completely and intentionally outside the frame.
She stood there, arms crossed, as she watched the scene unfold. Yuvaan, now with a clear, sun-drenched backdrop, effortlessly became the center of their universe. Her friends—her friends—beamed as they took the selfie, their faces alight with a glee he had effortlessly inspired. They were completely lost to the charm of this "incredibly hot villain," not even noticing she was no longer part of the picture.
In that moment, as the phone camera clicked, Kiara wasn't just annoyed. She felt a strange, sharp pang of something else—an acute sense of being deliberately erased, overshadowed in her own life by the very boy who had turned her world upside down in less than 24 hours. He hadn't just entered her college; he had effortlessly usurped her space and her friends, making her the outsider with a single, smooth sentence.
And his game had only just begun.