Fashion Benefits

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My new boss, Harshit Patil. kept me adequately busy for the next few days with the department orientation. Aayan had left for a business tour, so we didn't meet. Even otherwise, we hardly spoke, aware of the glances that would be thrown our way. However, a bunch of exquisite flowers on my desk, every morning, made me believe that he was thinking of me. I, who was in a trance of some newfound happiness, ignored the raised eyebrows of people around me.

The day of the fashion show day arrived at last. We had borrowed the dresses from Vinita's previous year's collection—a dazzling black and white gown for Shweta and a long turquoise gown for me. Shweta's friend, Marcus had agreed to style us for the event. He was one of the top celebrity makeup artists in town. Marcus and Shweta shared a good rapport with each other, I had to admit that Shweta had a lot of charisma that easily drew anybody into her world.

When it was my turn, Marcus scrutinized me from head to toe. He smiled when he decided what he had to do with my look. He dug deep into his dressing table's drawer and pulled out a blue hair band that had tiny blue stones all over it. He smoothed my hair and simply placed the band in my hair. When I finally looked in the mirror, I simply could not recognize myself. I wished inwardly for Aayan to be there to see me. Last few days, he scarcely called me. I had suddenly started to feel insecure.

When Shweta and I parted at the venue, I took my allotted seat in the last row to the left of the ramp. While I settled myself in the larger than life surrounding of the five-star hotel and beating lights, I regarded the other people who sat in the rows in front of mine. I recognized some of them as actors, fashion magazine majors, and high-class socialites. Thanks to Shweta, I blended in the elite crowd with ease.

Sometime later, the seats adjacent to mine were taken up by two writers working for a fashion magazine called Purple. We were talking about our backgrounds when my gaze went ahead, to the seat in the front row. I could not believe my eyes and for a second I thought I was hallucinating. 

Aayan Kar was seated with the same girl I had seen him the first time. The girl was leaning into him and whispering something in his ears. A pearl necklace glimmered from her swan-like neck. the contrast of white lace body-hugging dress with her colored highlights looked impeccable and made her distinct in the crowd. A wave of nausea washed over me. 

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I have to use the powder room." I said loudly to the writers.

In a fraction of second, Aayan turned. Our eyes met for a second before I stomp off in other direction. As I walked out of the room into a dim-lit corridor leading to the washroom, he grabbed my hand and spun me around.

"What?" I snapped irritably shaking off his hand. 

"Trisha! What are you doing here?" he questioned. Even in my seething anger, his arresting eyes made my knees weak. 

"What do you mean? I came here with my roommate who happens to be the assistant to the designer," I spluttered in an undertone as I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he said and stopped. "You look... so beautiful."

He saying that almost melted me on the spot. How could I not believe him? 

I froze on the spot as he stepped closer. Seconds stretched between us as we looked into each other's eyes, not saying anything at all. Aayan was drowning me with an unknown emotion. He took my hands and leaned into me. His lips touched my cheeks lightly, and I inhaled in his smell, suddenly feeling light-headed.

Reasonable thinking left me, as I stood there in his arms, drinking in his warmth. "Why are you doing this to me?" I murmured my lips on his neck.

Aayan lifted my chin, searching my face. "Doing what?" he asked, smiling lightly and caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. He leaned in one more time and kissed my other cheek. I closed my eyes, relishing the sensation when a bright light flashed before my closed lids. I instantly took a step back from him, even as Aayan turned towards the intruders. As soon as I realized that they were photographers, I ran and locked myself in the washroom.

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