Characters:
Aaira – The main girl, emotional and misunderstood, full of heart but never anyone’s first choice.
Fariha – Aaira’s first “best friend,” seemingly loyal but secretly considers her cousin as her true best friend.
Haya – Another girl who becomes close to Aaira but only after her own best friend disappears.
Zayan – A boy who used to dislike Aaira but falls in love with her through small, funny moments.
Aaira believed in forever friendships.
Since her first year in school, she had Fariha by her side. They shared secrets under classroom benches, laughed until their stomachs hurt, even cried together when exams felt too hard. Fariha would say every time:
“You're not just my friend, Aaira. You're my person.”
And Aaira believed her.
Until one ordinary afternoon, a classmate asked in front of the entire group:
“Fariha, who's your best friend?”
Aaira’s heart was already smiling, expecting her name.
But Fariha answered without hesitation,
“My cousin Aleena. We’ve been best friends since we were born.”
The group nodded. Laughed.
But Aaira? Her smile froze mid-air. She looked at Fariha, then down. She said nothing. Her throat burned.
That night, she typed a long paragraph to Fariha. Then deleted it.
Maybe I’m overreacting, she thought.
She wasn’t.
Weeks passed. The ache stayed. Aaira stopped sitting with Fariha every day. No fights, no drama. Just distance.
Then came Haya.
She was in a different class section—bold, confident, magnetic. And when Haya’s best friend Laiba stopped responding to her messages and disappeared from her life, she began sticking around Aaira.
“I think you're really fun, you know?” Haya would say.
“Laiba used to be my best friend... but you get me in a way she didn’t.”
For a moment, Aaira's heart softened. Maybe this time it'll be different, she hoped.
But deep down, she wondered:
Am I someone’s second chance… or just their second choice?
Zayan was the silent type. Popular, smart, a little cold. He didn’t like girls who talked too much or laughed too loud.
Aaira was both.
Their first meeting was awkward. She tripped near the library and spilled her books over his shoes.
“You really are a walking disaster,” he muttered.
“Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Personality Void,” she snapped back, brushing off her skirt with dramatic flair.
A few days later, she sat behind him in class and started narrating a fake dramatic love story about two pencils who couldn’t be together because one was too sharp.
Zayan didn’t laugh.
But he smiled.
Just a little.
Things were okay—until someone leaked Aaira’s private chats with both Haya and Fariha. Voice notes. Screenshots. Messages where Aaira had vented, cried, questioned her place in their lives.
Twisted.
Mocked.
Laughed at.
In the school WhatsApp group, people sent memes about her. Called her desperate. Two-faced.
Haya and Fariha? They stayed silent. For hours.
And when they finally spoke, it wasn’t defense. It was anger.
“Why would you keep these chats? What were you planning?” Haya accused.
“I trusted you, and now you’ve made me look like a joke,” Fariha said coldly.
Aaira didn’t come to school the next day.
She came three days later, quietly—just to submit her withdrawal application.
Whispers followed her through the corridor like shadows. Some people pointed. Others laughed.
Zayan found her in the garden after school, standing alone near the gate.
“You’re really leaving?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
She was holding it in. He could see it in her eyes.
He reached out, gently brushed away the tear slipping down her cheek.
“You make a lot of noise, Aaira,” he said.
“But I miss it already.”
Before she could leave the school, a group of students cornered her.
“Attention seeker.”
“Backstabber.”
“You had two best friends and still complained?”
Haya and Fariha stood in front of her, expressionless.
Aaira snapped.
“YOU called me your best friend when your real ones walked away.”
Her voice trembled, her eyes red.
“Fariha, I sat beside you for years. I waited for you to choose me just once. But every time someone asked, you picked Aleena. I didn’t say a word.”
“Haya, you told me I replaced Laiba—but you never let me forget I was a replacement. And the moment things got messy, you both acted like I was the villain.”
She stepped closer.
“Do you want to know the truth?”
“I wasn’t fake. I was just... tired. Tired of being someone’s comfort zone, never their first call.”
And she walked away.
Forever.
Days later, someone leaked the real screenshots.
Messages where Aaira told her side.
Voice notes where she cried saying she missed how things used to be.
Recordings where she said,
“I just want them to mean it when they say I matter.”
Silence swept the school group.
Fariha cried in the bathroom stall.
Haya deleted her Instagram account for a week.
But Aaira never came back.
Zayan found her again months later—in a bookstore.
She was reading, sipping coffee, looking at peace. Still a little broken, but... stronger.
He sat across from her, handed her a sticky note.
It read:
“You're not a second choice. You're a once-in-a-lifetime kind of girl.”
She looked up, tears in her eyes.
“You hate cheesy stuff,” she whispered.
“Only when it’s fake,” he smiled.
“But you? You made me laugh for the first time in years.”
She smiled.
But deep down, a part of her still hurt.
Some scars never fade.
Some names—once loved—never feel safe again.
