In a world of logic, he stood so tall, unshaken, cold, and wise,

Yet a stranger's words, so soft, so warm, set fire to his skies."

AUTHOR'S POV (SAISHA):

Saisha stands near the college canteen, her arms crossed as she watches Arsal laughing with his friends. He hasn't even looked her way today. The sting of their last fight still lingers in her heart, but it seems like he's already moved on.

Saisha (hesitant but firm): "Arsal, can we talk?"

Arsal (barely glancing at her, his tone indifferent): "About what?"

Saisha (frowning): "You know what. It's been days, and you haven't even tried to fix things between us."

Arsal (shrugging): "I thought you needed space. I gave it to you."

Saisha (hurt, voice softening): "Space doesn't mean ignoring me like I don't exist."

Arsal exhales, looking anywhere but at her. He rubs the back of his neck as if this conversation is tiring him.

Arsal: "Saisha, why do we have to talk about this right now? We always end up fighting."

Saisha (eyes narrowing): "Because I feel like I'm the only one who cares!"

His expression darkens, but instead of arguing, he just gives her a small, almost dismissive smile.

Arsal: "You overthink too much, Sai. Just... let it be."

And with that, he turns back to his friends, leaving Saisha standing there, her heart sinking.

LATER THAT NIGHT.

Lying on her bed later that night, Saisha grabs her phone. A familiar comfort awaits her—a conversation with the one person who truly listens. The anonymous friend. The masked man.

Masked Man: "Rough day?"

Saisha (sighing): "You could say that. Ever felt like someone you love is slipping away, but you have no idea why?"

Masked Man: "Hmm... can't say I've experienced it firsthand. But if someone's slipping away, maybe they were never holding on tight enough."

Saisha: "That's... depressing."

Masked Man: "I specialize in reality checks, not fairy tales."

Saisha (rolling her eyes, smiling slightly): "You sound like an old philosopher."

Masked Man: "Ah, so now I'm old? My heart, it breaks."

Saisha (laughs): "Oh please, you love the drama."

Masked Man: "Only when you provide the entertainment. So tell me, who is this emotionally unavailable person ruining your day?"

Saisha: "My boyfriend. I just... I feel like he doesn't care anymore. Maybe I should do something to impress him, you know? Remind him why he liked me in the first place."

Masked Man (pauses before replying): "Impress him? Why should you have to do that? He should be the one making sure you never doubt his feelings."

Saisha: "I don't know... I just want things to be like before."

Masked Man (almost sharp): "And what if he doesn't deserve it?"

Saisha (frowning): "Why do you sound so... annoyed?"

Masked Man: "Because it's frustrating to see someone amazing like you trying so hard for someone who doesn't even see it."

Saisha (blinking in surprise): "That almost sounded like jealousy."

Masked Man (clears throat): "Pfft. Me? Jealous? Please, I'm just stating facts."

Saisha (teasing): "Sureee. You're totally not jealous."

Masked Man: "If I was, would it be so bad?"

Saisha stares at her phone, heart skipping a beat. What was that supposed to mean?

AUTHOR'S POV(VIHAN):

Vihan Khurana was a man of discipline, a creature of habit. His life was structured, predictable, and tightly controlled. There was no place for distractions—least of all from something as trivial as social media or anonymous online conversations.

And yet, here he was.

Sitting in his sleek office, the city lights flickering through the glass windows behind him, Vihan found himself rereading the chat on his phone for the third time that night.

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn't something he usually did—smile, especially over a conversation. But there was something about her.

Gummy Bear.

That's what she called herself. A ridiculous username, really. Childish. But somehow, it suited her.

She was a burst of sunshine, even when she spoke about her struggles. Even when she vented about how life had been unfair to her, she never once let bitterness consume her words. She laughed through her pain. Found humor in things most people would crumble under.

And that—that—made his heart ache in ways he wasn't prepared for.

Vihan wasn't the kind of man who let emotions dictate his actions. He was rational, pragmatic. Feelings were secondary to responsibilities. Attachments were a luxury he never allowed himself.

But lately, something had shifted.

The need to check his phone at night had become a routine. The anticipation of seeing her messages, the way her words carried warmth even through the cold digital screen—it was unsettling. Addictive, almost.

And then yesterday happened. Yesterday, he found out she had a boyfriend.

He had no reason to care. She was just a stranger, an anonymous user, someone he had never even seen. But the moment she casually mentioned her boyfriend, something inside him twisted.

It wasn't jealousy. No, it was something else. Something darker.

It was the way she spoke about him—like an afterthought. As if he wasn't someone who brought her comfort but rather another burden she carried on her already weary shoulders.

And that—that—bothered him.

It shouldn't have. But it did.

A fire burned low in his chest when she talked about how her boyfriend treated her. Distant. Indifferent. As if she wasn't something precious. As if she wasn't someone worth fighting for.

Vihan exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple as he stared at the screen, her last message still lingering there. He could still hear his own voice from last night, whispering words that he hadn't even realized had slipped out.

"Only if she was mine, I would have kept her like a promise, like an oath for my lifetime."

The thought had been so sudden, so uncharacteristic of him, that it startled him.

And yet, for that fleeting moment, a millisecond, he had smiled.

A real, genuine smile. The kind that felt foreign on his face.

The sound of the door clicking open  to his office pulled him out of his trance.

"Is my friend lost in love with someone?"

Vihan's head snapped up, his brows furrowing at the teasing voice of Shekhar, his closest—if not only—friend. Shekhar leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face.

Vihan cleared his throat, straightening up immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about?"

Shekhar chuckled, stepping inside. "Oh, come on. I walked in, and you were staring at your phone like a lovesick teenager. And was that a smile I saw? Wow, Vihan, should I call the news channels? This is breaking news."

Vihan rolled his eyes, locking his phone and placing it face down on the desk. "You're imagining things."

Shekhar raised an eyebrow, walking closer. "Am I? Then tell me, what—or should I say who—had your full attention just now?"

Vihan said nothing.

Because the truth was something he wasn't ready to admit. Not to Shekhar. Not to himself.

Because admitting it meant acknowledging the reality he was avoiding.

A reality where the only light in his dark world came from the words of a girl he had never even seen.

HIS GUMMY BEAR.

AUTHOR'S POV(SAISHA):

Saisha sat under the shade of a tree in the college garden, her phone resting in her lap. A gentle breeze rustled her hair as she absentmindedly scrolled through her chat with the Masked Man.

Should I tell him that things are okay with Arsal now?

It had been a few days since her argument with Arsal, and things had finally settled. They had talked, sorted out their differences, and she was actually looking forward to spending Valentine's Day with him. Yet, a part of her still felt the urge to inform the Masked Man about it.

She sighed, shaking her head. But why do I feel this way? Why do I wait every night to talk to him?

Her grip tightened on her phone as she stared at the screen. He's just a stranger.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

And yet, that thought did little to silence the growing doubt inside her.

Just as she was about to lock her phone and push the thoughts aside, a familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Saisha. Saisha!"

She looked up to see Arsal approaching, his usual confident stride slowing as he neared her.

Arsal (running a hand through his hair): "Hey, can you give me your phone? My battery's dead, and I need to call Mahi. He's not here yet."

Saisha blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Oh... yeah, sure."

Without a second thought, she unlocked her phone and handed it to him.

Arsal took it, dialed Mahi's number, and pressed the phone to his ear.

She turned her gaze away, looking at the garden around her ,when she saw Rivan waving at her he came up to her asking if things were good between her and arsal . Even though Rivan was Arsals cousin but he was like a brother to saisha now . He used to look up to her in any diffficult situation involving arsal. Just when she was talking to Rivan her eyes fell on arsal  but something felt... off.

The silence stretched. Too long.

She expected him to return the phone after the call, but when she glanced back at him, she noticed something strange—he wasn't handing it back. He wasn't even moving.

He was staring at the screen. The color in her face drained as her heartbeat picked up.

Why is he looking at my phone like that?

Her mind raced, trying to figure out what he could've seen. She didn't have any pictures of other guys. She wasn't hiding anything from him.

Then it hit her.

Masked Man.

Her chest tightened as panic crawled up her spine. Their conversations weren't inappropriate or anything to be ashamed of. But knowing Arsal... he wouldn't see it that way.

He would jump to conclusions.

He would doubt her love.

He would think she was cheating on him.

Her palms turned clammy as she watched him, his grip on the phone tightening. His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed deeper.

Arsal (his voice lower, controlled, but laced with something sharp): "Who's... Masked Man?"

The way he said it made her stomach twist.

This was it. ...

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