"Are you June, by the way?" he asked.
I hesitated, the words hovering on my tongue as the rain tapped softly against the umbrella. After a long pause, I answered, "I guess."
His brows knit together slightly. "What do you mean by I guess.
I exhaled, the fight draining out of me. "I'm June Valare. Yes."
For once, I didn't feel like hiding. I was exhausted. Sick of the pretending. Sick of the endless drama.
June Valare wasn't my real name. It was a shield I had created months ago, a fake identity to pour my thoughts into words I had been holding inside for far too long. I wrote everything. The hurt, the rage, the longing. I turned my pain into stories and stitched them together into a novel, never expecting anyone to actually read it.
But they did.
What started as a quiet release became something louder, bigger. The book spread, my words finding strangers who felt seen by them. And once it began, I couldn't stop. I kept writing. Again and again. Each story carving out pieces of me I didn't know how to say out loud.
I never imagined the name I used to hide behind would one day be spoken back to me by a stranger, standing in the rain, looking straight at me like he already knew too much.
"I'm Avin Kashyap. A film director and screenwriter" he said.
That explained it.
Recognition hit me a second late, sharp and unavoidable. No wonder he looked familiar. He was the son of S. R. Kashyap aka Srivansh Kashyap. The man whose face had ruled billboards, award stages, and television screens for decades. The actor everyone knew, whether they wanted to or not.
Avin Kashyap didn't look like someone riding on his father's name, though. There was something restrained about him, something grounded. He stood there quietly, rain drumming against the umbrella, watching me with a focus that made me feel seen in a way I wasn't prepared for.
"You must be wondering how I know that" he said, studying my expression like he was already dissecting a character. "I've been researching you for months. And I finally found you. I didn't expect it to happen like this, but that's fine. Be in my office tomorrow. Whether you come or not is your choice."
He slipped a sleek card from his jean pocket and held it out.
For a second, I just stared at it. My name was printed there in bold letters. Not Aria. Not the girl who got cheated on in the rain.
For June Valare.
I wiped my tears quickly, hoping the darkness and rain had blurred enough of my weakness. My fingers trembled slightly as I took the card.
Avin Kashyap had only recently stepped into Bollywood, but his first project had exploded overnight. Critics called it bold. Audiences called it refreshing. I had watched it, of course. It was… decent. Not extraordinary. But the unexpected cameos from some of my favorite actors had saved it, at least in my very unbiased opinion.
"I'm not going to hold this umbrella for you all night. Go home" he said, his tone flat, almost bored.
Rude. Again.
But not wrong.
I nodded. "Thank you."
The words felt small compared to the weight of the night.
I stood up slowly and stepped out from under the umbrella. The rain welcomed me back immediately, cold and unapologetic. The bus stand was only a few steps away, its flickering tube light casting pale shadows on the wet pavement.
Perfect timing for my car to stop working.
I unlocked my phone and called my driver. "I'm coming in a few minutes" he said.
I ended the call and waited, hugging myself as the wind brushed past.
From a distance, I saw Avin close his umbrella and walk toward his car. The streetlight briefly illuminated his face before he slipped inside. The engine started smoothly, headlights cutting through the rain.
And just like that, he was gone.
Leaving behind a soaked bench, a crumpled birthday, and a card that felt like the beginning of something I wasn't ready for.
⏳
I woke up with my eyelids heavy and tight, like they didn't belong to me anymore. The dull ache behind them confirmed what I already knew. I had cried myself to sleep.
The room felt too bright, too normal for a morning after everything fell apart.
I dragged myself to the bathroom and looked into the mirror.
Bad decision.
My eyes were swollen, rims tinged red. My face looked puffy, drained of its usual sharpness. The girl staring back at me didn't look like someone who had just turned a year older. She looked like someone who had aged overnight.
I splashed cold water on my face, again and again, as if I could rinse off yesterday. The chill stung, but it helped. A little. I stepped into the shower and let the water run over me longer than necessary, trying to steady my breathing, trying to quiet my mind.
When I came back into my room, dressed and slightly more presentable, I reached for my phone on the bed.
That's when I saw it.
A sleek black card lying beside my pillow.
"For June Valare."
My chest tightened.
There was a number printed below the name.
And suddenly, last night came rushing back. The rain. The umbrella. His voice. Avin Kashyap.
For a moment, I just stared at the card, debating whether it was reckless to even consider this. Then, before I could overthink it, I dialed the number.
It rang twice.
"AK's manager speaking, yes?" a crisp female voice answered.
"Um… I'm June Valare. Avin Kashyap gave me this card and asked me to meet him at his office?" I said, the confusion in my voice impossible to hide.
There was a brief pause.
"Oh. Ms. Valare. Yes, he informed me about you. I'll share the location. You can come before 12 p.m."
"Okay" I replied softly and ended the call.
Silence filled the room again.
I pressed my fingers against my temples.
What exactly was I walking into?
Was this an opportunity… or just another storm waiting to happen?