A little five-year-old boy sat at the top of the grand staircase of a luxurious mansion.

His small hands rested on the cold marble as his sad gaze remained fixed on the hall downstairs.

Laughter echoed through the mansion.

His entire family sat together in the living room, talking and smiling, as if nothing in the world was wrong.

From where he sat, they looked like the picture of a perfect family.

Even without him.

The boy blinked slowly.

Why?

Was he that bad?

No… he wasn’t.

They had told him he should behave. That the other boy was his brother now, and brothers should love each other.

But if he really was his brother… then why did he take everything away from him?

Why did everyone love only him now? Why didn’t they love him the way they used to?

His gaze slowly dropped to his wrist. A white bandage was wrapped around it.

It still hurt.

But did anyone ask if he was in pain?

No.

They hadn’t even looked at him. They had only panicked over the other boy. They had blamed him too. Said it was his fault both of them got hurt.

A lone tear escaped his eyes.

Even in such a huge mansion, surrounded by so many people… He felt alone.

His grandparents loved him. They truly did.

But a child didn’t just want love. He wanted his parents. And they didn’t look at him the same way anymore.

His siblings and cousins had stopped talking to him.

Even at school, things weren’t better. His classmates avoided him. Sometimes, the older kids bullied him as well.

And no one cared.

The sadness in his eyes deepened.

That was when he suddenly felt someone standing behind him.

A shadow fell over his small frame.

Startled, the boy slowly lifted his lashes.

A girl stood there.

She looked about his age.

She wore a white princess frock, her shoulder-length hair tied neatly with a pink bow.

At first glance, she looked like a delicate porcelain doll.

But her eyes…

They were strangely focused.

Observant.

Too sharp for a child.

She studied him carefully, her gaze slowly traveling from his messy hair to the bandage on his wrist, before finally meeting his teary eyes.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

They simply looked at each other.

“You look… sad,” the girl finally said. “And alone.”

Without hesitation, she sat beside him on the staircase.

The boy didn’t answer immediately.

Surprise flickered across his swollen, red eyes, but he quickly wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

Even as a child, his first instinct was to hide his tears from a stranger.

“Why do you care?” he asked hoarsely. “And who are you?”

He tried to sound rude. But to the girl, he only looked adorable.

She leaned forward, and suddenly pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re so cute,” she giggled. “I care, because cute people don’t look good, when they cry. They should be smiling.”

She tilted her head slightly. “So… I’ll make you happy.”

The boy frowned, confused. “Why would you want to make me happy? I don’t even know you.”

“Then know me now…” she replied almost instantly.

She straightened proudly. “I’m Ira. Ira Shekhawat.”

“I come here to visit my aunt with my family. We live abroad, but we’ll stay in this city for a few years now.”

She pointed at him expectantly. “Now tell me your name.”

The boy pressed his lips together stubbornly, clearly unwilling to respond.

But after a moment, he answered anyway. “I’m Yuvraj,” he muttered. “Yuvraj Rajvansh.”

Then after a pause, he added quietly, “You can call me Yuvi.”

The girl’s eyes sparkled.

Without warning, she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“We’re friends now, Yuvi,” she declared happily. “And friends make each other smile.”

His cheeks flushed pink.

A small, hesitant smile slowly appeared on his lips.

He didn’t know why he had answered her.

He didn’t know why he had spoken to her.

He didn’t even know why he didn’t stop her, when she called him her friend.

Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe he simply wanted someone who didn’t ignore him.

Or maybe… For the first time in a long while… Someone had chosen to sit beside him.

And for the little girl sitting beside him…

She didn’t know yet… that this simple moment would become the beginning of something she would never let go of.

°°°°°°°°°°°°

Darkness blanketed the massive stadium.

For a few seconds, everything was silent.

Then — A single spotlight flickered to life.

The crowd erupted instantly.

“RIDHAM! RIDHAM! RIDHAM!”

Thousands of voices roared together, shaking the very air.

The stadium trembled with energy as glowing lightsticks waved wildly.

Fans screamed at the top of their lungs, their excitement spilling over like a storm that could no longer be contained.

“RIDHAM!”

“RIDHAM!”

“RIDHAM!”

The crowd chanted his name again and again, like a reverent chant echoing through a temple.

The name echoed louder with every passing second.

On the massive LED screens, a silhouette appeared behind the curtains.

Tall.

Still.

Mysterious.

The screaming intensified.

People pushed forward, hands raised, phones glowing as they tried to capture the moment.

And then — The lights burst alive.

Golden beams swept across the stadium as smoke rolled over the stage like drifting clouds.

The silhouette finally stepped forward.

A man dressed in black stood beneath the blinding spotlight.

The crowd lost control.

Screams pierced the night sky.

“RIDHAM!”

“WE LOVE YOU RIDHAM!”

“RIDHAM LOOK HERE!”

“RIDHAM PLEASE MARRY ME!”

He didn’t speak. He simply stood there.

Calm. Composed.

Watching the sea of people calling his name, as if they worshipped him.

The world knew him as Ridham — The mysterious singer whose voice had taken the music industry by storm.

No interviews. No personal life revealed. No past.

Just a voice that could make thousands of hearts beat in unison.

The music began. Soft piano notes floated through the stadium.

Ridham's fingers danced across the string of guitar skillfully, creating magic in the air itself.

He lifted the microphone slowly. And when he finally sang — The crowd fell silent.

Totally lost in his majesty and heavenly voice.

His voice carried through the night like a quiet storm.

Deep. Haunting.

Filled with emotions, no one could quite understand.

Some fans closed their eyes, completely lost in the music.

To them, he was perfection.

A star. A legend.

°°°°°°°°°°°°

The Rajvansh mansion felt strangely suffocating tonight.

The same walls, that had once echoed with laughter, now stood silent, heavy with unspoken guilt.

Vikram Rajvansh stood a few steps away from the man before him.

The boy he once knew was gone.

In his place stood someone colder… harder.

Yuvraj Rajvansh.

Vikram’s hands trembled slightly, as he stepped forward, his eyes already glistening.

“Beta… we made mistakes,” he said, his voice breaking. “But blood—”

Yuvraj cut him off before he could even finish. His tone icy cold, “Blood didn’t tuck me in at night. Blood didn’t show up at my school events. Blood didn't wiped my tears whenever I cried.”

The words landed like quiet blows. Vikram’s breath hitched.

Silence swallowed the room. No one spoke.

Not his mother. Not his siblings. Nobody.

Every pair of eyes in the room slowly lowered.

Yuvraj’s gaze swept across them all. “You lost your son long ago.”

His voice remained steady. His eyes lingered on every familiar face in the room. “It's just that… you are realising it now only. And... it's too late for realisation!”

The words cut deeper than any accusation.

For the first time, none of them tried to defend themselves.

Because deep down…

They all knew, he wasn’t wrong.

And in that moment, every member of the Rajvansh family realized something they had refused to see for years.

The distance between them and the boy they once called Yuvi was no longer measured in time.

But in every moment they had failed to stand beside him in the time of need.

°°°°°°°°°°°°

The terrace was quiet under the soft glow of the night sky.

A cool breeze moved through Aaradhya’s hair, as she stood beside Yuvraj near the railing.

Her flowing hairs teased his cheeks, as he gently tucked them behind her ear again and again.

“Look at your eyes!” Aaradhya said softly, looking at him. “Aren't you taking proper sleep? You should take care of your self.”

Yuvraj smiled mischievously. “I'm too lazy to do so. Why don't you take care of me by yourself?”

She nudged his arm lightly. “You’re impossible.”

A blush painted her cheeks, which definitely didn't go unnoticed by him, as he chuckled slowly.

For a moment, they simply stood there, closer than before. Aaradhya’s hand slowly slipped into his.

And that was when a voice cut through the quiet. “I see I’m interrupting something.”

They both turned.

Ira stood near the terrace entrance.

Her posture relaxed. Her face calm.

But her eyes… Her eyes were sharp.

Burning — not with jealousy.

With possession.

“What are you doing here?”, Yuvraj frowned.

Ira chuckled carelessly. “Watching you... With her... How romantic! Isn't it, my Love?” 

Yuvraj opposed her almost instantly. “I'm not your love. Don't call me that!”

Ira raised her brow. “Is that so? Then who can call you that? She?”

She pointed a finger towards Aaradhya. Her face laced with mocking expressions.

“She doesn’t even know you like I do,” Ira said slowly. “She didn’t see you bleeding on your knees. She didn’t wipe your tears. She didn’t love you, when you were nothing.”

Aaradhya frowned. Yuvraj’s expression hardened.

“You don’t love me,” he said calmly. “You want to possess me. There’s a difference.”

Ira smiled faintly. “Possession is the purest form of love, Yuvraj. Because it doesn't ask… it claims.”

Yuvraj’s voice turned colder. “Don’t mistake my silence for surrender, Ira. If obsession made people worthy… this world would burn in love.”

Ira took a slow step forward. “If the world burns, then let it be,” she said softly. “I'm willing to even burn it, if that's the cost to have you.”

Aaradhya stepped closer to Yuvraj. “He doesn’t want you,” she said firmly. “Why can’t you let us live together in peace? We love each other.”

Ira tilted her head slightly, her gaze flickering between them.

“You sure, darling?” she asked quietly. “He really loves you?”

Aaradhya didn’t hesitate. “He does. And he told you that as well. Just stop being an obsessed freak.”

Ira’s smile didn’t disappear. “I’d rather be called obsessed than invisible,” she replied calmly. “At least… I’m willing to fight for what belongs to me.”

°°°°°°°°°°°°

This is it for today!

How's is the Prologue?

Do tell me in the comments, if you like it or not?

If yes, what was your most favourite part?

The First Chapter will be uploaded soon!