In His Custody ✎ (MaNan)

✰ 5 - principal's 'son'

The shades over his eyes, his well-trimmed stubble and the charm he caught onto from his father vibrantly personified him. He was only wearing casual brown shorts, a plain black tee and a pair of sneakers, but it showed class, something he lacked from his foster home – as he explicitly stated on multiple occasion. He lowered his glasses as I made my way towards him and shot a small smile.

His stride imitated that of ramp walk models, after all that was what he was up to back in the UK. From the side, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder – pulling me into a side hug – that left my jaw grazing the floor. I was least expecting that, from him especially, out of all gestures of welcoming.

"Done sleeping around, that you found the time to grace yourself here?" He muttered softly, only loud enough for me to hear, his smile plastered like something he'd trained himself to settle within situations like those. His choice of words hadn't changed a bit, but they didn't sink into me until later. I'd become used to taunts of that kind from him, it only reassured me that I was standing next to my son indeed, Manik Malhotra.

How could a child be so grey? How was he capable of lighting up my whole life like a beam of sunshine as if my existence finally had a purpose, yet like rain erupting brooding emotions within me that I had forgotten existed; smearing his darkness all over my subdued demeanour that had emerged over the years in his absence, while he brought with him a mirror to reflect vain. He tried his best to reject me as his mother just as much as I denied him being my son, that way it was mutual even if our similarities succeeded those egos.

Every person in his life was destined to see one of those shades, or sometimes all at once. That was why he was toxic; he could pull people into an abyss and get away as effortlessly. 

I looked him in the eye, where most people were most vulnerable and then traced down every feature of his visage, trying my best to sink in every grown feature that I'd missed out on. Seven years was a long time to stay away from someone.

"It's so good to see you." I rambled with an inkling of realism hidden in it. I didn't know why, but in him, I yearned to see the features of Manish, though I knew I never could. That was why I never wanted an adopted child, but then ironically, I was blessed with two.

His eyes turned to stone. "How's your boyfriend, Harshad? Made the baby a daddy yet?" He scoffed with a bland smile.

"Manik, where's Mukti?" His expressions changed but quickly distilled back into 'the happy look' to keep up the façade and he shrugged.

"Like you care."

A distinct figure arose behind him, tapping him on the shoulder playfully. "Manik, I thought I had nearly lost you." Her long ponytail waved, and then her eyes drifted to me. "Oh, hey! I'm Pamela."

"Nyonika." came my extended hand.

"Nyonika Malhotra." He completed with a smile, trying to point to me exactly who I am, and where I belonged. I gave him a cheeky grin as well, kindling the fire within him.

"Can you give us a moment, please?" She said to me, claiming his arm and it didn't take me more than a second to realise she was one of his pawns too. 

⭒

Manik

I could not believe I signed this fucking album deal. Only day one, and what a shitshow already! 

"Thanks for that saving!" I whiffed a relieving sigh. God, I hated when Cabir was right, but that woman was a handful for me to deal with. Pamela's hands clasped around my forearm again, and I was slowly beginning to take notice of it, as it started feeling uncanny.