In the splendid elegance of Tuesday's glory stood my childhood friend, Riddhi Walia. Her brown eyes shone with pride, and her brunette hair cascaded in a stylish bob cut. Naturally, she sported loose, oversized clothes – how else would she be herself? Riddhi embodied what some might label as a typical countryside tomboy, miles away from conforming to stereotypical expectations for girls.
She smirked at me and quipped, "Hot date, huh?"
I rolled my eyes playfully. "You wish. She's just a friend," I replied with a grin.
Meanwhile, Sana observed our banter with amusement, fake coughing to remind us of her presence.
"Oh, right! Riddhi, meet Sana. My Instagram friend turned real-life buddy," I gestured towards her. "And Sana, this is Riddhi, my childhood pal."
"Yup, we even had a shared hobby of admiring girls together in high school," she said with a casual shrug.
I blushed and scolded her, "Hey, Sana doesn't need to know that."
"Sure thing, Dumbo," she responded coyly before turning her attention to Sana. "Nice to meet ya, senorita," Riddhi greeted with her usual charming smirk.
Sana chuckled at her playful demeanor. "You're gonna slay ladies with that smile, you know."
"I aim to please, mademoiselle," Riddhi replied with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"Alright, that's enough, you two," I cut in, attempting to put an end to their little performance.
"Ease up, dumbo," Riddhi muttered casually as she grabbed a chair from a nearby table and joined us.
I shot Riddhi a skeptical look, "So now you're part of the party?"
"Seems like it," she replied with an air of nonchalance.
"Let her be. She's quite the charmer," Sana added, her attention fixed on Riddhi.
"You guys can sort out your little tension. Just not in front of me, please."
"Still clinging to your drama addiction, eh?" Riddhi quipped.
Sana chuckled, "He's as dramatic as they come. Blame it on those Turkish dramas."
"You're still into those crappy shows? Dude, wake up. You're not going to get your own Feriha." Riddhi stated with a decisive tone.
"Trying," I replied with a half-smile.
"Are you sure it's not Emir he's after?" Sana teased mischievously.
Riddhi locked eyes with me, "Oh?"
"Hey, it's nothing like that," I defended, feeling a hint of red tinging the tips of my ears.
Sana observed the spectacle with pleasant amusement. After a moment, she smiled and asked, "So, Riddhi, what do you do?"
Riddhi replied with a wink, "Just your good old travelogue writer," emphasizing the "travelogue" part.
Curious, Sana inquired, "So, you travel a lot?"
"Yup, just returned from France yesterday," Riddhi responded, her words carrying a hint of enthusiasm.
I interjected, breaking the flow of their banter. "I hate to be the villain in your cute little love story, but can we focus on the matter at hand here, Sana?"
Sana's expression shifted, indicating her understanding. "Ah, right."
Riddhi glanced between us, a hint of confusion in her eyes. "Am I missing something?"
I sighed sheepishly. "Well, I sort of got fired," I admitted, proceeding to recount the situation from the beginning, laying out the details for her.
There's a certain power in women who speak their minds without filters, making them both formidable and intriguing.
Riddhi's voice cut through the air like a damn storm. "So, you get fucking conned by some masked rando, your spineless boss fires you like a heartless jerk, and here you are, attempting to maintain composure while being interviewed for a damn spot boy position rather than beating the shit out of them?" She wasn't just angry; she was fuming.
I tried to calmly explain my perspective. "Well, there wasn't much I could've done, right?"
Sana, sipping her coffee on the side, chimed in, "He was planning to make a comeback."
"Comeback? There?" Riddhi's gaze bore into me with fury, and within the confines of her eyes, I could see my impending damn doom.
"Thanks for that Sana," I said with a sarcastic grin.
She shrugged, not missing a beat with her coffee and phone. "Hey, that's what friends are for – brutal honesty and a side of caffeine."
Riddhi sighed, slamming her head on the table in frustration before straightening up. "Does your mom know?"
I shook my head.
"Well, she should."
I sighed, grappling with the dilemma, "What on earth am I supposed to say to her? 'Hey, Mom, did you know? I got fired, and now I'm jobless. Also, got conned today. Haha.' That's not exactly the kind of news she'd appreciate."
Riddhi rolled her eyes, "I get it's tough, but you've got to tell her sooner or later. Why not rip off the bandage now?"
"Look, I need some time, alright? Let me secure the spot boy position first. After that, I'll break the news to her," I reasoned.
"Your life, your call," Riddhi remarked.
Sana finally looked up from her phone, "Are you guys done?"
"Oh, yeah," I replied.
"Well then, Riddhi, forgive the abrupt interruption, but Singh needs to accompany me to the set now. I'll introduce him to the director, and we'll finalize everything," she announced. Rising gracefully from her seat, she seized her car keys and glided towards the exit. "Singh, feel free to say your goodbyes and join me outside. I'll be waiting." Her long, ebony locks cascaded behind her like a captivating waterfall.
Observing her departure, Riddhi quirked a smirk and remarked, "She's got that mommy vibe."
"Too much information, damn it," I grumbled, executing a swift turn to leave.
"Wait," Riddhi called out in a contemplative tone, holding my attention once again. "Feel free to reach out if you need anything," She chimed in, absorbed in a magazine she had stumbled upon at the café counter.
"Sure thing," I mumbled, leaving the shop. Outside, I found Sana patiently waiting in her stylish Audi, because settling for anything less wasn't her style.
"Hurry up," she quipped, a hint of impatience in her voice as she gestured for me to hop in.
I swiftly moved towards the opposite door of the car, climbed in, and shut the door with a satisfying thud. Ah, the comfort of sitting inside a luxurious car was truly a pleasant experience.
"All set?" she asked, tapping the steering wheel.
"You're driving?" I asked in surprise.
She raised an eyebrow, "You make it sound like a crime."
"I wouldn't call it a crime, but it's definitely a catastrophe. Remember that time you made headlines for colliding with a pole?"
She laughed, "That's ancient history, my friend. I've learned to drive properly since then, ensuring I don't repeat such incidents."
"Well, let's hope for the best because I don't see you giving up."
"Quit being dramatic," she said. "I'll drive safely, and I mean it."
"Just in case, can I sign an insurance paper?" I asked meekly.
She narrowed her eyes at me, "Don't make me get you to walk there."
I nodded, settling into the plush seat with a hint of nervous anticipation.
She pressed the accelerator, and the car moved forward with a gentle purr. The scenery outside began to change as we smoothly navigated through the city streets. Sana seemed at ease behind the wheel, and a sense of calm settled in the car. Amid this peaceful atmosphere, she reached for the music controls and selected Atif Aslam's "Rang Sharbaton Ka," the soothing melody filling the car.
"Good choice, Sana. Much appreciated," I remarked, feeling the serenity of the moment.
"Of course, Atif is a vibe," she replied, swaying her head to the rhythm, fully immersed in the music.
"So," I began, breaking the silence with a hint of hesitation.
"Hmm? What was that?" she asked, turning her gaze briefly from the road to me.
I shifted my gaze to the car's surface, idly tracing patterns with my fingers. Summoning the courage, I asked, "Any progress with your brother?"
In a sudden move, she hit the brakes, causing both of us to jerk forward. Realizing the gravity of her impulsive act, she cradled her head in her hands and sighed, "It's been years since I last saw him."
Reaching over, I offered a sympathetic tap on her back, saying, "He'll come around, Sana. Don't lose hope."
"Right," she replied softly, resuming the drive. This time, I chose to remain silent, allowing the music to work its magic and lighten our heavy mood.
Half an hour later, the car glided to a smooth stop. Sana gracefully stepped out and circled the vehicle to open the door for me, her actions revealing a touch of genteel courtesy.
Concern etched her features as she inquired, "You weren't hurt, right?"
I shook my head, assuring her that I was fine. A visible sense of relief washed over her, and she walked ahead, leading the way. I trailed behind like a curious puppy, absorbing the details of our surroundings.
The place was vast, filled with scattered props, neatly aligned vanity vans, and an array of filming equipment. It looked like a chaotic mess, a stark contrast to the polished movies produced here.
Sana signaled me to join her in a conversation with a plump man wearing a white hat, indicating there was more to see and experience.
Upon my arrival, she gave my shoulder a reassuring pat. "This is Aryan Singh, the guy I mentioned earlier," she introduced, gesturing towards me. She then turned to me and continued, "And this is Director Arjun Das."
"Hello, sir," I greeted politely, offering my hand for a handshake.
He smiled, shaking my hand. "So, you're the engineer, huh?"
Sana interjected with a playful tone, "We discussed this, sir. No addressing him by his previous job title. He's a spot boy now, plain and simple."
"Just teasing, Sana. Don't get all worked up. It might mess up your pretty makeup," he chuckled.
Sana responded with a smile, but her expression didn't entirely convince me.
"Alright, young man, I assume Sana has briefed you on your duties?" Director Arjun Das inquired.
"Yes, sir," I affirmed.
He then made an offhand remark, "It's a pity, though. Someone with a face as handsome as yours should be a model or something."
I took a slight step back nervously and replied, "Yeah, well, I'm not really into that, sir."
"Don't scare him off, Arjun," Sana scolded the director.
He playfully teased Sana with a knowing smile, "What's got you so protective, Sana? Anything brewing?"
I quickly stepped in, debunking any assumptions, "Nothing of the sort, sir. Sana and I share a bond like siblings; she's four years my senior."
Annoyed, Sana questioned the director, "Satisfied now?"
Apologizing, he responded, "My mistake, no assumptions here."
"Straight to the vanity van, Singh," she commanded, leading the way with me in tow.
As we entered, I took in the setup—a spacious interior with a large mirror illuminated by bright lights, adorned with an array of makeup tools and celebrity essentials, from various brushes to hair straightening devices.
I couldn't help but express my awe, "This is cool."
Sana winked in agreement, "Isn't it?"
I casually sprawled out on the compact bed-like structure, observing Sana as she settled into the chair, skillfully applying various makeup products to enhance her features.
"So, this is how busy your days are," I remarked.
She hummed, continuing her makeup routine, "Pretty much."
"You sure are friendly with your director, huh?" I mused.
Her expression briefly stiffened before instantly relaxing. She chuckled, "He's just a moron. Don't mind him. Despite being 40, he doesn't act his age at all. That man needs more growing up."
"Got it,"
"Listen closely. There are individuals around here who might try to lure you with strange offers. Don't be tempted. Trust is scarce in this environment. You need to protect yourself. Remember, everyone could be your adversary," she cautioned, her voice firm and resolute.
"If that's the case, why work here at all?" I mused aloud.
"Some manage to rise above all this toxicity and live their lives at the pinnacle without a care. Others get stuck and can't find a way out due to various issues. Another reason is the allure of money and fame that comes with success in this industry," she explained while applying her eyeshadow.
"I see"
"Alright, we're all set." She declared, standing up from the chair and giving me a once-over. "Now, once you step out that door, it's a solo journey. Take care, stay clear of anything fishy, and most importantly, don't spill the beans about me. If anyone asks, we met randomly in the cafe, got it?"
I nodded in agreement, following her out of the van. Slapping my cheeks lightly, I muttered, "Surviving here won't be a walk in the park, huh? Well, get ready, world, because I'm about to ace this." With a confident grin, I declared, "Prepare yourselves, folks – here comes Singh!"