Vishakha's POV

This was it.

The college I had worked hard for.

The classrooms I had imagined while solving endless questions, sacrificing sleep, convincing myself that one day I'd stand here-not as a dreamer, but as a law student.

And now I was.

I stood at the entrance for a second longer than necessary, adjusting the strap of my bag like it could anchor my nerves. White top. Black high-waist jeans. Nothing dramatic. Clean. Confident. Me.

From here on, I work harder, I told myself.

From here on, I become a good advocate.

The campus was unusually quiet for a first day-soft footsteps, distant voices, a calm that felt almost sacred.

I was just about to head toward my classroom when I heard a voice behind me.

A boy's voice.

Casual. Amused.

"Yeh white wali ko dekh... kitna matak matak kar ja rahi hai."

(“Why is this one in white walking with so much attitude / swagger?”)

I froze.

White wali?

My spine stiffened instantly.

I didn't turn.

I didn't react.

But something hot and uncomfortable settled in my chest.

Excuse me?

I had worn white.

I was walking ahead.

And that tone-ugh.

I felt disgust crawl up my skin.

First day. First impression. And this college already has people like him, I thought bitterly.

I clenched my jaw, fingers tightening around my bag strap.

Control yourself, Vishakha. Don't create a scene.

Still, my mind wasn't as calm as my face.

Matak matak? Seriously? Grow up.

I took a sharp breath and walked faster, refusing to give him even the satisfaction of a glance. Whoever he was, whatever superiority complex he carried-I wanted nothing to do with him.

As I turned the corridor corner, curiosity finally got the better of me.

I looked back-to see who that freak was who thought commenting like that was acceptable.

What I saw made me pause.

A tall boy stood a few steps behind, leaning casually, talking to someone I couldn't see properly from my angle. He looked... put together. Confident. The kind of confidence that didn't ask for permission. Sharp features, relaxed posture-too relaxed for someone who had just passed a comment like that.

He laughed lightly, unaware of the storm he had triggered in my head.

So this is him, I thought bitterly.

Good looks. Bad manners. Typical.

I waited-half expecting him to repeat himself, to confirm that the comment was really meant for me.

He didn't.

Instead, he said something else to the unseen person infront of him, I was just able to see his back, tone normal, almost distracted-like the earlier words hadn't mattered at all.

That confused me more than it should have.

If he wasn't talking about me... then why-

No. I stopped myself.

I wasn't going to give him the benefit of doubt.

Whatever the reason was, whatever the context-I wasn't interested.

I turned away before he could notice me looking, irritation settling deep in my chest.

First day, I reminded myself.

Focus. Classroom. Goals.

I squared my shoulders and walked inside.

New place.

New start.

Yet, annoyingly, his voice stayed with me-echoing faintly, unresolved.

And though I didn't know it yet, though I was completely wrong about the reason-

That misunderstanding had already done its damage.

Because I had just decided something very firmly:

I didn't like him.

And something told me, unsettlingly-

This wouldn't be the last time our paths crossed.

Tanishq's POV

First day. First impressions. I had planned to arrive early-grab a good spot, breathe in the campus vibe, and maybe make a calm, confident start.

So here I was, leaning casually against a wall, waiting for the crowd to trickle in. Not too early, not too late-perfect.

A few minutes in, I noticed a couple of tiny kittens near the corridor. One black, one white, both adorable and completely fearless.

I nudged the guy next to me, also waiting early.

"Yeh black kitten... chalte huye kitni cute lag rahi hai, na?" I said, grinning.

He laughed. "Haan, sach mein."

Then I spotted the white one, prancing ahead like it owned the place. I couldn't help myself. "Yeh white wali kitni matak matak kar ja rahi hai."

(“Why is this one in white walking with so much attitude / swagger?”)

I didn't think much of it. Lighthearted comment. Kittens. No harm done.

Later I realised that because of kittens I forgot to go to classroom....

I stepped into the classroom, scanning for a decent seat. Front rows were almost full-everyone was trying to look confident, new faces everywhere, fresh energy buzzing around.

There was one empty spot left... right beside a girl. She looked sharp, composed, serious. White top. Black jeans. Bag neatly placed on the chair beside her. She was already glancing at the front like she owned the place.

Perfect. First day. Front row. I can sit here. No risk of getting stuck in the back. Easy.

I strode over, adjusting my bag strap, confidence in every step.

"Mind if I...?" I began, gesturing to the seat.

She looked up. Eyes sharp. Lips pressed into a straight line. Then, without a blink, she said:

"No."

...Wait, what?

I froze mid-step.

"I mean... it's empty," I added casually, trying not to let the first rejection sting.

"No. Go sit somewhere else," she said, tone calm but deadly. The kind of calm that makes people regret even opening their mouths.

I smirked, intrigued.

"Ah," I said lightly. "First day and already refusing people? Bold choice."

She didn't even flinch. "I like to choose my company. You don't fit."

Ooooh... Challenge accepted, I thought, hiding the slight pinch to my ego behind a grin.

I scanned the classroom. The back row looked... depressing. Meh. I could sit there... but no. Front row, next to her-it's the spot I wanted.

Then God helped me somebody asked her something, I don't care what was that but she just took her bag from the chair and I smoothly slide into the seat anyway, right in front of her.

Her glare was instantaneous. Sharp. Annoyed. Arrogant. Exactly how I liked my first encounters-interesting.

From her side, I caught a faint mutter: "Unbelievable..."

Oh, this is going to be fun.

And just like that, without a word about names or introductions, without even a reason beyond pride and stubbornness, the spark was lit.

Rivalry. Subtle. Dangerous. Irresistible.

I couldn't wait to see how this would play out.

Vishakha's POV

Are you kidding me?

First, this man had the audacity to make that comment this morning.

Now, here he is. Sitting beside me. Smug. Confident. Acting like it's completely normal.

Unbelievable.

I pressed my lips together, trying to hide the surge of irritation. Pure cheap. Disgusting. How dare he.

I wanted to say something. Anything. But... no. Not yet. I needed to plan my revenge.

First day. And already I have to deal with this creep?

I could feel his smirk, probably thinking he had won some invisible battle.

Nope. Not today. Not ever.

I adjusted my bag, leaned slightly away, and focused on my notebook-anything to block him out.

This is war.

First day. First encounter.

And I will not let him get the better of me.

Because one thing was very clear: Tanishq Mehra had officially become my rival.

The professor walked in, files tucked under his arm, glasses perched low on his nose.

"Good morning, everyone," he said. "Since this is your first class, let's begin with introductions."

Great, I thought. As if today wasn't already cursed enough.

One by one, students started standing up-names, hometowns, dramatic ambitions.

"I want to be a corporate lawyer." "I want to join litigation." "I want to change the system."

I stared straight ahead, nodding politely, pretending the problem sitting beside me didn't exist.

But oh, I could feel him.

Relaxed posture. Elbow slightly sprawled. Too comfortable for someone who had commented on me in the morning and then invaded my personal space like it was public property.

The audacity.

I leaned a little away, internally screaming.

How cheap. How disgusting. First he comments, then he sits beside me like nothing happened. Does he think this is some movie? Does he think I'm blind? Or worse-impressed?

No sir.

You are neither charming nor funny.

You are irritating.

The professor's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"You there," he said, pointing somewhere near us. "Introduce yourself."

I stiffened.

But thankfully he called him, not me.

Tanishq's POV

Ah. Introductions.

I straightened slightly, half-listening, half-observing the girl beside me who looked like she was one second away from combusting.

Her jaw was clenched. Shoulders stiff. Expression screaming How dare you breathe near me.

Wow, I thought. Someone woke up and chose royal attitude.

I mean-relax. It's a chair. Not your throne.

She hadn't looked at me even once since I sat down. Not a glare. Not a complaint. Just pure, silent judgment.

Let me guess, I mused. She thinks she's the queen of this classroom. Or maybe the whole college.

White top. Black jeans. Serious face. Notebook already open like she'd been preparing for this moment her entire life.

Definitely the "I sit in front, I top the class, don't talk to me" type.

Cute.

Annoying.

But cute.

Then the professor's finger pointed-unfortunately-at me.

Tanishq - out loud

"Tanishq Mehra," I said, standing up easily.

A few heads turned. Some nods. Someone whispered something.

I sat back down, calm as ever.

From the corner of my eye, I caught her reaction.

Vishakha's POV

Of course his name is Tanishq.

Why does it suit him so well?

Why does he sound so confident?

Why does he exist?

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Look at him. Standing like he owns the place. Smiling like people asked him to sit here. As if I personally invited him.

Disgusting confidence.

Disgusting posture.

Disgusting man.

I scribbled his name in the corner of my notebook without realizing-then aggressively crossed it out.

No. I will not remember his name.

The professor spoke again.

"And you?" he said, looking directly at me.

Great. My turn.

Vishakha - out loud

"Vishakha Sharma," I said, standing straight.

Simple. Clear. Professional.

I sat down immediately.

Tanishq's POV

Vishakha.

Interesting.

Sharp voice. No extra words. No nervousness.

Definitely the topper energy type.

I glanced at her notebook-color-coded tabs. Clean handwriting. Margin lines drawn.

Yep, I confirmed mentally. Front-row queen. Probably thinks everyone else is beneath her.

I leaned back slightly, amused.

This was going to be entertaining.

Vishakha's POV

As the professor moved on, I folded my hands and stared straight ahead.

Note to self, I thought firmly.

Stay away from Tanishq Mehra.

Because something told me-

If I didn't,

this man would bring nothing but trouble, irritation, and unnecessary competition into my perfectly planned law-school life.

And somehow...

that thought annoyed me more than it should have. 😤

Hi (Radhe Radhe ❣️) my Chaos Crew so this was the first chapter. I hope you liked it please follow and comment it motivate me 🙂 and I promise if you give my book love I will not let you all down.