Chapter Two: The Missing Sixth

Mumbai, 7:05 AM – Arjun’s Birthday
Riya was the first to notice.
She arrived at the usual tea stall, her backpack bouncing with each step, earbuds in, half-dancing to her morning playlist. The others were already there—Suraj scrolling on his phone, Kartik stuffing his mouth with a vada pav, Anya quietly sipping cutting chai, and Ajay reading a textbook like his life depended on it.
“Yo,” Riya plopped down on the empty wooden bench, pulling out her lollipop like a dramatic dagger. “Where’s the birthday boy?”
Suraj looked up, confused. “Arjun? Isn’t he with you?”
Riya frowned. “Nope. He wasn’t online last night either.”
Ajay didn’t look up from his book. “Maybe he’s sleeping in. You know Arjun. Birthday drama isn’t his thing.”
“Still,” Anya said softly, “He always messages us. Even if it’s just a dot.”
Kartik chimed in, mouth full, “Maybe he's planning a surprise for us? Like, reverse birthday twist?”
Everyone paused.
Suraj’s eyes narrowed. “You guys didn’t get a text either, right? I called him. Switched off.”
That made everyone stop. Arjun’s phone was never off.
They all looked at each other, an unspoken thought creeping in.
Something’s not right.
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9:30 AM – At Arjun’s Usual Spot
They knew he didn’t live in a fancy flat or anything. But none of them had ever asked where, exactly. Arjun had always been vague—changing the subject, joking it off, meeting them halfway.
But now, with growing unease, they retraced every memory, every clue. It took a couple of hours of asking around, chasing scraps of conversation, talking to street vendors and that old pani puri guy who once said, “Woh chhota Arjun toh yahaan nadi ke paas milta hai kabhi kabhi.”
Finally, under a highway bridge near the river, hidden behind a cluster of tarpaulin sheets and rusted metal boards… they found it.
A small cardboard shelter. Folded clothes in a plastic box. A worn-out water bottle. One manga, two books, and an old notebook with numbers scrawled on every page. No sign of struggle. No footprints.
But something was… odd.
The world shimmered, just a little, when Kartik stepped near the box. As if heat waves danced in the air, even though the day was cool.
Then it happened.
Ajay touched the box—and everything shifted.
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For a second, there was only white. Then blue. Then grass.
When they blinked again, the cardboard house was gone. So was the bridge. So was Mumbai.
They were standing on a mountain plain. Wind rustled through tall trees that hadn’t existed seconds ago. Birds they’d never seen soared across a pale morning sky.
And behind them? A small campfire. Still warm. As if they had always been here.

Chapter end