The car sliced through the city, tires hissing against the slick roads. The steady rain blurred the cityscape beyond the windows. Harsh slouched in the backseat, head pressed against the cool glass, arms crossed while a certain someone on the video call convulsed with laughter.

"Tell me the details again. Describe how he was crying," Jay wheezed.

He rolled his eyes, his cheek brushing the fogged window. Squaring his shoulders, he purposefully looking out to ignore the video call.

"Will you just stop it now?" Shay asked.

"Stop? This is the best day of my life. I knew we'd crush this brat in just a week. It was only a matter of time before it happened. Poor, crybaby, can't escape us. He is tagged," Jay feigned sympathy, before laughter wracked him again.

His jaw tightened. He shot a sideways glare at the bull flopping on the couch, red-faced and shaking with laughter.

"How about you choke and die on that laughter?"

Jay didn't waver. Rosy-cheeked and breathless, he rolled onto his side. "Sheesh! I'm going to die!" He exclaimed, grinning. "Crybaby, you're rigged! Man, I pity you so much!"

It was clear Jay wasn't pitying at all.

Harsh wanted to punch that stupid grin off his face. He huffed, and retreated back into a corner.

"Honestly, you're getting really creepy at this point," Shay murmured.

"Fine, fine," Jay got up, panting. "My abs... they hurt so much," he laughed again, clutching his abs.

Irritation bubbled up. He couldn't control himself. What was the bull's problem! "You think that's going to stop me? No, a real man doesn't stop."

"You're a real man?" Shay asked, clueless.

Jay froze, staring at them for a second, before he doubled over, shaking uncontrollably again. Harsh glared at the quieter twin with simmering irritation.

However, Shay looked back, unfazed.

Harsh curled inwards, gaze towards the window. His jaw clenched at Jay's laughter.

There was a pang of jealousy he didn't want to admit. That the bull could carry that ease, that freedom to laugh heartedly, despite all the rage and self conceited ego he carried. Harsh didn't have that power, that liberty. He didn't even remember the last time he laughed so hard it hurt his stomach.

Besides, the bull was reaping entertaining from his misery. It bruised his ego. Irritation prickled through him as his misfortune became a cause for Jay's happiness. He loathed him. Really, really, loathed his existence in that moment.

"Yikes," Shay winced, snapping the laptop shut.

Harsh looked away from the window, frowning at the quieter twin. Shay glanced at him, before looking away, reaching over to his own side, and flung a backpack towards Harsh.

It landed in his arms.

"Yug gave me. It has your college essentials."

He opened the zip, pulling out a bunch of books, a file, stationery and a phone. He frowned, swiping the lockscreen. Wasn't he grounded?

He swiped through the home screen, finding only essential applications like call, message, email, calculator etc.

A message popped up. From Prithvi.

This phone is strictly monitored. Use it only for emergencies.

He scrolled through the contact list. Work numbers, personal numbers of all his brothers and their PAs.

He sighed, sending a K to Prithvi. He turned it off, flipping through the file displaying his schedule and important documents.

"What is... this?" He muttered, brows knitted while pointing at journalism classes.

Shay leaned in, scanning the paper carefully, before he shrugged. "Prithvi bhai curated your course. You ever took journalism?" His eyes flicked to his honey ones.

"Once? Maybe twice? Some six month course?" He shrugged. "I don't know. It's an easy thing to do."

"Then bhai thinks you like it. That's why he chose journalism for you."

Did Prithvi dig that deep for him? 

He brushed off the weird, warm feeling, rolling his honey eyes to downplay it. "There's nothing good about writing on corruption leashed essays. The system is amoral." He snapped the file shut, putting it back.

"You think system's corrupted?" Shay asked, intrigued.

Harsh blinked, looking up. "Don't you know?"

Shay stilled, before nodding. "Yes. But, systems have always been corrupted. There's never been a point in history where power wasn't blinded by itself."

"I'm not disagreeing," he began, hugging the bag close to his chest. He didn't know why, but this discussion was making him self conscious. "But today is corrupted too. It doesn't matter what the history was. We're talking about the present," he continued, his voice low but firm. "Just because it was corrupted before, doesn't justify the way it is now. Besides, why should we even care about trivialities? The world is a snake trying to swallow its own tail."

Thick silence settled between them. Harsh looked out the window, his heartbeat loudly echoing his ears. He had never expressed his views before someone else. It was a weird feeling. Like unravelling a part of him. He decided he would never do such a thing.

"Why did you learn journalism back then?" Shay rasped.

Harsh looked back at him, taken aback by how enraptured Shay was in the conversation. He shrugged. "Don't know."

"It's a useful subject to be honest." Shay nodded. "It's kind of..." he thought for a moment. "An art. An expression for our identity. It's an interesting skill."

He opened his mouth, but suddenly felt irritated for some reason. He wasn't ready to express himself. "Well, I'm not studying to learn anything useful. I'm studying to kill time. It's just an easy subject, that's all," he half lied. Because it was the truth.

He looked away. He tried to ignore Shay's gaze at the side of his face.

"For what?"

"Huh?" He turned back to Shay.

"Besides being easy, what are you studying it for then?" Shay pressed again.

Harsh didn't understand why was Shay so invested in this conversation, or wanting to know him. His chest tightened. This was too personal, too probing. He had to snuff this interest instantly.

"Till I get eighteen, so that I can leave this shithole," he snapped. "Anything more you want to know?"

A weird, unreadable look crossed Shay, before he looked away, back at the window, his jaw tight.

Harsh huffed, rolling his eyes, and looked away too.

They didn't speak he rest of the drive until they reached the university.

One strap on shoulder, Harsh shifted before the looming college building. A fleet of luxury cars lined the parking on his left. He looked away from them, eyes landing on the guard beside him, holding out an umbrella over their head. Pocketing his hands, he restlessly waited for Shay who took his sweet time covering the paved lawn as he made his way to him. The quiter twin dismissed their subordinates when they reached the lobby.

"Now," Shay turned to him, "Try to keep that mouth in check. Don't make unnecessary rivals. Everyone is high profile here."

His eyes rolled. "I don't give a fig," he retorted.

Shay turned a deaf ear to him, leading the way. Harsh followed quietly after him.

They passed by walls full of alumni. Portraits of former judges and cabinet ministers stared down at him from the walls. He suddenly felt small, his own insignificance pressing against him. He had grown up masking his feelings behind fake bravado. However, the truth couldn't stay buried for long. It wouldn't matter how many times he could lie to himself. The truth would remain the same. He was undeserving of this chance. He felt hollow, dumb and ugly. Incompetent to be even walking here. Then, he quickened his pace, staying close to Shay, and pretending he was unaffected by the cold, brutal truth.

At the Dean's cabin, he kept a formal, polite distance by hiding behind Shay. Thankfully, the guy didn't abandon him mid-way like Jay would have. Shay took charge of the conversation, before sending him off to his first day of the class with an assistant. Royal classes at home had taught Harsh well. He survived the first lecture, nodding stiffly, eyes briefly meeting classmates the diplomatic way it should, before minding his own business.

[This work is only published on Scrollstack and Wattpad by DaisyDayNew.]

The rest of the classes passed by in a blur. Students here were a bunch of stuck up prudes. They were poised, calculative and emotionally old. They lacked sparks, eyes lingering too long, mouths that curved with unspoken invitation. He wanted the chase, the thrill. The high of being wanted. But it lacked everything he desired.

           By noon, he figured out the basics of this place. Everyone smiled too politely, talked too diplomatically, and walked too poised. In word one, everyone was wearing masks. He curated his own by the time lunch came. First step to make his place. He decided on a neutral mask for now. Safer than diving without a clue.

He sat at Shay's table when lunch came. The quieter twin's gaze found him, brows creasing lightly.

"Why are you quiet? Don't like it here?"

He looked up, attempting to gauge what Shay's facial expressions and words were collectively trying to convey. Reading the quieter twin proved difficult. Harsh was surprised how much he resembled Agney Rajvansh. He was basically the King's younger version.

He looked down at the food, the side of his head held up on the palm.

He observed the canteen from under his lashes. How could any place be so immaculate even at lunch time? Everyone was controlled and poised, speaking using a bunch of words picked up from thesaurus. What was this place even? It wasn't like any college he had read in fiction or watched in movies.

How would he get laid?

Bigger question, when would he get laid?

"The report in one of the case studies says, 'enzyme inhibited in vitro'. What does that even mean?"

Shay turned to his friend, serious. "Something is temporarily blocking the enzyme function."

"So the enzyme can't do its job?"

"Yeah. Even if the substance they're testing is there, the enzyme can't interact with it properly, so the test shows lower activity. That's why we run controls sometimes, to see if an inhibitor is messing with the reading."

"How do you run controls?"

"Dev..." Shay's second friend began. "That's a bio-chem thing there. We won't understand it even if we would like to."

Dev leaned back, staring at the intrusion with intensity. "A single piece of information changes the way we interpret the evidence. Law needs research. But you wouldn't understand it, Nihal. Retailer that you're."

"Here goes Mr. Advocate preaching me," Nihal muttered under his breath.

Harsh snickered, shaking his hand. Atleast, Shay's friends were entertaining.

Dev frowned at Harsh with distaste, turning to Shay. "Who is this kid even?"

"My brother?" Shay responded back, before sipping at cold coffee.

"Your brother? Emphasis on the question mark. You don't know?" Dev jabbed.

Nihal snorted.

Harsh became irritated at the guy condescending his brother. An uncomfortable feeling brewed in his chest.

"Oh, shut up," Harsh jumped in. "Like you know half of the BS you spout all the time."

"That's what language is for, Minor. Feelings don't make sense. Articulation, should," Dev retorted.

Harsh gaped. How dare he argue with him? His nostrils flared.

"Well, language was originally invented to express feelings. Since feelings don't make sense, many a times, language doesn't either."

Dev huffed. "Don't sabotage your point, kid. Language was first invented to send distress calls and in aiding survival."

"And, it's secondary function is to express feelings and emotions and humanity, everything that makes us- us, as in, humans. Animals don't have a very enriched language for this very reason. They don't need it. Humans do. We articulate to be human. We argue to be understood. Mind you, Mr. Advocate. You won't understand that." Harsh blinked rapidly, smirking to irk him.

"Boo, that was savage, bro. You're actually winning an argument against Devraj?" Nihal mocked, grinning.

Dev's glare warningly snapped to Nihal who raised his hands in surrender. The lawyer tightened his jaw, but a grudging respect flickered in his eyes as he turned back to Harsh. "Valid point, kid," he spat, before he sipped at water. "But then again, I'm sure your brain is working overtime just to keep up with the rest of us. No?" He said, putting down the glass of water.

Harsh rolled his eyes, smirking in victory. The guy was ruffled after losing to him. His gaze automatically moved to Shay who was oddly calm.

His smirk faltered. Shay was staring at him, steady and unreadable.

His ears rang. Had he messed up? 

His stomach churned with anxiety. Dread creeped up on him. Had he crossed a line back then? He frowned down at his lap. He had openly bit at one of his friends. Surely, Shay was mad at him now.

The thick tension plummeted his heartbeat. He risked a peek at the quieter twin.

Slowly, Shay's lips tugged up in a faint smirk. He bit back on a smile, and continued to scrolled on the phone.

Harsh frowned at the response.

Was he... was he not mad? Air rushed to his lungs. He looked away, relieved. However, he couldn't help but frown.

Why was he not mad? He should be. He should be disappointed. Or angry. Anything but not... amused.

Weirdo.

***

"How was your first day?" Prithvi asked gently at the dining table.

Harsh tiredly poked at his food, ignoring him and Agney. He didn't reply, eyes barely cracking open. His body felt made of lead. He was so worn out, he couldn't even lift his head.

"We are asking you a question, Prince Harsh," Agney added after a minute.

He scowled. Prithvi sighed, turning to Agney. "Leave him, bhai. Maybe he is tired."

Shay lifted his head, raising a fork. "Actually, he was very quiet all day." He turned back to eating.

"Is that true?"

He shrugged wearily. Staying silent.

His day couldn't be worse. First, he was tagged like some animal. Then, nobody glanced his way at college. Then to make matters worse, just as he got home, he had to survive five classes without falling asleep. He had been barely sleeping. All the sleep deprivation was slowly piling up. He badly wanted to sleep off this day.

When he was younger, he would stare at the walls of his apartment, blaming his introvert life for all the loneliness. Now, he wondered, if staying occupied for sixteen hours a day made him any less lonely?

He pushed his plate away, and stood up before anyone could say anything more.

He hated everything about today.