INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – EVENING
The light outside fades into the soft blues of twilight. Room 213 is calm, bathed in golden shadows. The only sound is the faint beeping of the monitors.
Saif sits upright in bed, recovering but still pale. His eyes stare at the sky outside the window — quiet, unreadable.
The door opens gently.
Dr. Mahi Shaikh walks in, holding a plate, a paring knife, and a bright red apple.
MAHI (softly):
"I brought something. Apples. Peeled — doctor's touch included."
SAIF (grinning weakly):
"So this is how you convince stubborn patients to eat."
MAHI:
"No. This is how I take care of people who never learned how to be taken care of."
She pulls a chair beside his bed and starts peeling the apple with smooth, gentle strokes.
MAHI (carefully):
"Can I ask you something?"
SAIF (nods):
"You can ask anything, Doc. You're the only one who ever does."
She glances at him, thoughtful.
MAHI:
"How did it happen? The rooftop fall?"
He exhales, as if debating whether or not to tell the truth. Then he does — simply, like it cost him nothing.
SAIF:
"There was this little girl. In the neighborhood near the market. Her balloon got stuck on a rooftop antenna."
(beat)
"She cried for half an hour. Big sobs. No one cared. They all just passed her like she was invisible."
Mahi stops peeling for a second, surprised.
SAIF (shrugs):
"I thought… maybe if I brought it down, she'd stop crying. So I climbed the fire escape, reached the top, and… well, the antenna snapped."
A wry smile touches his lips.
SAIF:
"The balloon floated away. I hit the concrete."
MAHI (softly, moved):
"You could've died trying to save a balloon."
SAIF (quietly):
"I didn't do it for the balloon. I did it because no one ever did anything for me when I cried like that."
Silence wraps the room like a heavy blanket.
She returns to the apple, hands moving slower now.
MAHI (gently):
"That girl… she'll never know what you risked for her."
SAIF (bitter smile):
"Kids like her forget quickly. I didn't."
---
She sets the plate of neat apple slices in front of him.
MAHI (gently):
"Why don't you have anyone… to call? No emergency contact, no family?"
Silence.
Mahi doesn't push. She keeps peeling.
After a long pause, his voice finally comes — low, rough, and honest.
SAIF:
"I was seven when they left me."
She stops peeling — eyes shift up to him — then continues quietly.
SAIF (softly):
"My parents. They didn't want a son who asked questions. Or maybe they just didn't want me at all. One day I came home from school and found the house empty. Furniture gone. Lights off. Door locked from the outside."
Mahi's hand stills.
SAIF (bitter smile):
"I waited outside for two days. Then I walked to the next town and never looked back."
MAHI (softly):
"You were seven..."
He nods.
SAIF:
"I learned to survive the hard way. First in the streets, then in the system, and eventually… outside the law."
(beat)
"I did what I had to. Took control. Built something out of nothing. They call it a gang. I call it family. Misfits. Runaways. Lost boys."
Mahi gently places the peeled slices on the plate and offers them to him. He takes one, slowly.
SAIF:
"I help kids like me now. The ones who were thrown away. I teach them how to fight. How to protect each other. How to make sure no one can ever betray them again.
SAIF (looking at her, voice lower):
"You're the first person who's ever asked. The first person who peels apples for me without wanting anything in return."
MAHI (meeting his gaze):
"Everyone deserves to be cared for, Saif. Even the ones who think they don't."
Their eyes lock. The moment is heavy — not romantic, but raw.
Real.
And in that moment, something shifts.
Not love.
But something just as dangerous.
Hope.
SAIF:
"I became what I needed back then."
Mahi hands him a fork, quiet and thoughtful.
MAHI (softly):
"That's not what most people expect from a man with a criminal record."
SAIF:
"Maybe most people don't look close enough."
MAHI:
"I do."
Their eyes lock.
SAIF (voice low, almost a whisper):
"And maybe… that's why I'm still breathing."
Mahi stands, emotion brewing in her chest, unspoken and conflicted.
As she reaches the door, she pauses. Turns back.
MAHI:
"Don't do anything that reckless again, Saif."
SAIF (smiling faintly):
"Only if you promise not to stop seeing me."
She doesn't reply. Just gives a soft, knowing smile.
Then walks out — heart heavier than she expected.