"Maya, Maya, Maya, Maya...." she heard her fans chant in front of the curtains. She took a deep breath, making sure her mic was properly charged, making sure she was ready to go. She knew Maya would come interrogate her about her preparations any minute now, and she did not want to hear her prolonged line of questions tonight.
"Akshara, tum ready ho na??? Yeh mere liye bahut important hai...please tum kuch mistake maat karna... warna mujhe gussa aa jaye ga..." Maya said anxiously as she made sure her hair was perfectly set.
"Don't worry, Maya. All set." She responded with no emotion, no life in her voice. She could not remember the last time she felt anything...sometimes she would try digging the mic into her palm as hard as she could just so some pain, some agony would reach her heart...but, she failed every time.
As Maya walked on stage, Kunal arrived backstage to watch over Akshara like he had almost every night for the past year. He sat beside her, intensely glaring at her...almost as if he would launch, destroy her if anything went wrong. She looked right past him into the distance, disregarding his dangerous stares. If she did fail, if she did ruin the very fame that she had given Maya, then maybe...just maybe...the brother and sister would do something that would make her shed a tear...make her stomach drop...make her feel like a human again.
But, as always, the concert ended perfectly. Maya came back glowing, running into her brother's arms. The three of them drove home with Akshara sitting in the back of the car in silence, and Maya and Kunal recapping how wonderfully the night had gone. Before they got out of the car, they told her what time to be ready by tomorrow, telling her to meet them outside the house ready with her guitar tuned. She nodded and silently walked inside into her room.
She immediately went and sat on her bed, taking off the black hoodie she had worn to every performance for the past year. Before putting it on the table beside her, she held it close to her chest, closing her eyes and picturing his face. She saw him standing in the depths of the crowd, holding a sign with her name on it with the biggest grin across his face. But, before she let herself fall deeper into her own thoughts, she jerked herself awake...she would not dare let herself dream.
And with that, she went into the bathroom with a pair of scissors in her hand. Her hair had started to grow longer, and she needed to cut it off before it got out of hand. She slowly cut it all off, staring at the pieces as they fell into the sink. And as she wiped away the leftover strands, what she feared happened again...she felt his fingers on her forehead, she felt his fingers stroking her hair... she felt what she had felt every single time she had cut her hair in the past year. With that, she pulled her hair, tugged on it as hard as she could, hoping that she would feel any sort of pain to erase his touch from her heart...but as always, she failed...