EXT. CITY STREET - EVENING
A crowded city lane. Neon reflections. Distant traffic hum. TARAK watches the movement like he is hearing a different language.
TARAK
Some beginnings look like accidents, but they arrive like fate.
INT. VENNELA'S ROOM - NIGHT
Phone light washes over script pages. VENNELA records a voice note, deletes it, records again.
VENNELA
If I keep talking, I do not fall apart. So stay on the line.
TARAK (PHONE)
I am here. Continue.
INT. QUIET CAFE - LATE NIGHT
The table is small. The silence is not. They sit across from each other with unfinished sentences and unfinished coffee.
VENNELA
Are we fixing this, or only postponing the collapse?
TARAK
Tonight, we choose honesty. Tomorrow can decide the rest.