Just my luck, the one guy I like, and he can't understand me. Two viewpoints that with only the slightest shift had the potential to merge. Yet, standing on a quiet beach, neither of them realised that they were both looking at the same horizon.

Flash.

This time it wasn't the photographer. It was the first firecracker signalling the big festival finale.

"Looks like the concert is wrapping up," she said, as she began her way back to the concert area - acutely aware of the widening gap between them.

"Yep," was all he uttered, his eyes were focused on the sandy path in front of him, hands in his pocket. Everything about him looked closed off, so different from only a few moments ago, she thought.

"Hey -" she said, grabbing his arm, "I didn't mean to say any -"

"Don't apologise," he said, his words were intended to soothe, but they were not the balm she had hoped for, making it sound harsher than she'd expected. "You're completely justified in wanting to chase your dreams," he continued, giving her a smile that hid something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She wanted to reach out to his face, which was clouded in stubble and masked a storm of trouble, but she refrained. Nalini couldn't quite understand her emotions, she had only just met the guy, but just like she was sure about her love of fashion and her budding career as a blogger, so too, did she have an instinct about the handsome musician in front of her.

"There you guys are - turn around -" said Sanjana, who had suddenly appeared from the clearing, "- we're just heading to the beach to watch the firecrackers. C'mon, let's get a good spot before the crowd gathers," said Sanjana. She was followed by an animated Aarathi and the other bandmates, who were still talking about Iron Man.

A second firework went up, it's amber flares dancing in the sky before disappearing in a puff of smoke. The six of them quickly huddled near the stretch of the beach devoid of trees, getting a full view of the display up above. A familiar keyboard melody played through the speakers, and Aarathi's face lit up.

"He's playing Pjanoo - I can't believe this, what a track," she said, a wide grin lit up her face, as she looked at Sanjana.

"Perfect ending to this festival, man. Damn don't want to leave tomorrow," said Sanjana, resting her head on Aarathi's shoulder.

She couldn't hear what the girls were saying, because the fireworks started to light up the sky in tandem with the music. It wouldn't have mattered, even if she could because her only attention was on the calloused fingers that had found hers. She glimpsed at their entwined hands, visible only when the brightest flares burst in the violet, blanketed sky right above them. Cascading sparks of light erupted everywhere, illuminating the corners of her mind. She squeezed his hand emboldened by the fireworks and her feelings for him. The attraction for him inhabited her body like a silent predator in a house full of prey.

Although, their viewpoints hadn't changed from the argument earlier, nor would it, at least, not for another decade. At that precise moment, surrounded by twinkling fireworks, they both knew that the path forward wouldn't be the same without each other.

"I take it back, I'm not done talking," he whispered in her ear.

"Me neither. Got a piece of paper?" she said, looking at his face, seeing the flash of a firework dance in his eyes, or was it more than that, she wondered.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a leather-bound wallet, from it, he retrieved the business card.

"I don't have a pen," she said.

"I do, I always carry one - for lyrics," he said and grabbed the pen from his shirt pocket. She wrote down her number under Arun Walia's printed digits, secretly hoping that hers would be more significant.

"What if you don't call?" she asked, searching his eyes, unsure of whether this was really happening.

"Do you have a piece of paper?" he asked.

"Umm... no, but -" she stopped mid-sentence, rummaging through her fringe bag and found Chiba's business card, "I guess this will work," she said, smiling at the irony.

She couldn't believe how in just a few short hours, her whole life had flipped upside down. She had gotten photographed by Vogue and potentially met the love of her life. Things could only get better, she thought. And she would be right, for her life had a trajectory that no one could stop, not even the musician whose back pocket felt warmer now that it held the most precious thing - a business card with her number on it.

"So, when should I expect your call?," she said flirtatiously, as she put the business card, with his number, in the most secure part of her bag - the hidden compartment, usually kept for her IDs, a 500rs note and a Whisper ultra pad.

"5pm, Tuesday?" he said jokingly.

"Good, don't be a minute late," she said, removing her crown and resting her head on his broad shoulder.