Chapter 11 Colliding notes

Third-person Pov

The evening mist rolled across Dal Lake, turning the water into a sheet of shifting silver. Sanjana sat cross-legged on the wooden porch of her house, her notebook balanced on her knees. The page was half-filled with scribbles. She was trying to concentrate on her studies, but his offer kept echoing inside her. The offer was tempting but she knew better than to trust a tourist. She has heard many incidents where these tourists took advantage of the naïve girls of the valley.

A knock on the railing startled her. She looked up. Liam stood there, his height framed by the twilight, Kabir a few paces behind with his usual sceptical look.

“You’re here again,” She said, rising quickly, brushing her palms against her shawl as if to erase the evidence of her thoughts.

“Of course I am.” His voice carried a quiet conviction. “After last night, do you really think I could stay away?”

Her heart betrayed her, beating too fast. “You shouldn’t be here,” she muttered, lowering her gaze.

“I should,” Liam countered, stepping closer. “Your voice—it’s the kind of voice people wait their whole lives to hear. You can’t just hide it in these mountains.”

Sanjana’s uncle coughed softly from inside, and she glanced back, protective worry flickering across her face. Liam noticed, his expression softening.

“I’m not here to take you away from your life,” he said. “I’m here to offer you a chance. My company is launching in a few months. I need a voice like yours. *I need you.*”

The words cut through her like both balm and blade. For a fleeting second, she imagined it—her songs carried beyond these valleys, her uncle proud, their worries eased. But then the weight of reality pressed down harder.

“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “Dreams like that… they’re not for people like me.”

“They’re exactly for people like you,” Liam pressed, determination burning in his eyes. “I’ve met singers who are polished, trained, packaged. None of them moved me. You did. Don’t tell me that means nothing.” His voice filled with determination. He balanced his body on the railing. Half sitting and half standing. His hands were folded on his chest. He clearly reflected determination.

Sanjana hugged her shawl closer, wrestling with herself. Why does he sound so certain? Why does his belief shake mine?

Kabir finally spoke, his tone firm. “She’s told you no once already, Liam. Respect that.” Kabir tried to pull him with his arm but was unable to waiver him.

But Liam barely looked at his friend. His gaze stayed fixed on her, unyielding. “I’ll respect her decision when I know it’s really hers—not fear speaking for her.”

Her throat tightened. She wanted to lash out, to tell him to leave her alone, to stop tempting her with what she couldn’t have. But the truth was crueller, part of her didn’t want him to stop.

“I can’t,” she said at last, her voice trembling despite her resolve. “My uncle needs me. Our life may be small, but it’s ours. Music is… just a dream. And dreams don’t pay bills.” Her voice filled with a determination. Her fingers curled around her notebook .

Liam exhaled sharply, frustrated but not defeated. “Maybe not yet. But one day, Sanjana—you’ll see it the way I do. And when you do, I’ll be waiting.” He sighed and straightened up to leave.

She turned away, blinking against the sting in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see the way his words shook her, couldn’t let him glimpse the dangerous hope clawing at her heart.

That night, long after he had gone, she sat by the window, listening to the echo of his promise. The lake outside was silent, but in her mind his voice lingered, stubborn and certain, refusing to fade.