Not in the Script: An Ahaan & Aneet Collection

Best Friends...?

Before you dive in:
This one's set one week pre-Saiyaara release, industy exclusive launch day.

Yes, the actual launch went down differently.
Yes, Alanna documented it beautifully.

Buuut this is my version.
Call it the remix: messier, louder, slightly unhinged... and maybe a little bit more fun?

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The Panday house was louder than the hotel ballroom they were due at in an hour. Deanne's voice floated down the hall — "Ahaan, collar!" — just as Alanna's laughter bubbled from the living room where she and Ivor were fussing with a new camera. Chunky's baritone joke boomed from somewhere near the kitchen ("Tonight, we clap for the boy! Tomorrow, we pretend we don't know him if reviews are bad!") and Bhavna's quick, fond, "Arrey, stop it," followed right after, like the refrain of a familiar song.

Ahaan stood in front of the mirror and tried to breathe like he was about to step onto a set. He wasn't nervous about cameras — those were easy — he was nervous about the ten seconds just after the cameras looked away. The gap where his hand might find the small of her back. The way she might lean or not lean.

"Collar," Deanne said again, gentler now, appearing at his shoulder and smoothing the lapel of his black shirt with the efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times. Her eyes, kohl-bright and assessing, flicked to his. "You've barely blinked in five minutes."

"I blinked twice," he said, and smiled.

"Don't forget to drink water," she murmured, then lowered her voice even more. "And don't forget it's a work night."

"Ma," he said, chuckling lightly, eyes sliding down to his phone as it buzzed. A text.

  Aneet: "I'll get there a little after you. Shanoo's wrangling me into another outfit change."

His mouth tilted as his fingers hovered over the screen "You'll look great in whatever. Want me to get you from the side entrance?"

A bubble of three dots appeared, vanished, then came back. "No. We'll go in separately. But..." A few seconds passed. "Find me when it's safe."

He typed, "Always."

Alanna peered around the doorframe with a conspiratorial grin. "Is the star ready?"

"I'm a star," he said. "Chachu's the star."

"Tell him that and he'll make a speech at your afterparty," Alanna teased, then winked. "Also, I'm stealing mom for a sec. We need to rig a mic on her blazer lapel for family footage. I promised only private reels, relax."

"Private reels," he repeated. "Those two words do not go together in this house."

"Trust me," she said. "Ivor will edit."

From the hallway, Rysa called out, "Bhai, we're all waiting!" and Ananya's drier, amused voice added, "We'll leave without you and then you can be fashionably late alone."

"Coming," he said, slipping the phone into his pocket. He took one more look at himself, then at the small braided red thread tied at his wrist. He'd tied it after Mount Mary. He hadn't taken it off.

—

At the hotel, the launch felt like a festival: branded step-and-repeat boards, soft wash lights, the low thrum of a DJ in the adjacent room already testing tracks. PR teams glided like swans; assistants held garment bags like offerings. A giant LED screen looped the film's title: Saiyaara.