'Hers is an old fashioned heart that holds timeless love. She's a three page love letter in a world of relationship status updates.'
~ JmStorm
Varun P.O.V.
I woke up slowly on the first day of our outdoors shoot. Because of the fact that the weather wasn't on our side - or maybe because it was - shoot had been delayed, giving us the time to stay up late the night before and sleep in in the morning. Because we had nothing to do, I hadn't wanted to wake up when the sun first caused my brain to stir and had managed to persuade Alia to stay in bed a little longer. I knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep and I hadn't intended to myself, had only wanted to stay wrapped in the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows and Alia for a little longer before getting up and facing the cool autumn day. But then her fingers started combing through my hair and she began to hum a soft tuneless melody which, from my position with my head resting on her stomach, I could almost feel and the combination of all three quickly lulled me back into sleep.
When I did finally wake up for the day, I did so very slowly, savouring the feeling of fingers carding through my hair and the warmth surrounding me, the familiar presence of my best friend and her comforting, homely scent - something I'd tried to put a name to a million times but failed to label as anything but Alia and home.
Of course, she knew I was awake but gave no indication of it, not ceasing her movements or her humming, allowing me the option to slip back into my dreams if I wished to. I was tempted to, of course I was, but I knew I'd kept her in bed long enough so I forced myself to open my eyes. 'What time's't?' I asked, my words barely audible as I spoke against the material of her - my - t-shirt.
'Just gone one.' she answered, her voice soft.
'Why'd'you let me sleep so long?' I questioned, unwrapping myself from around her - somewhat reluctantly - and sitting up with a yawn.
'You look so peaceful when you're sleeping, I didn't feel like waking you.' she explained with a shrug.
'And what about the fact that you missed breakfast?' I queried, eyebrow raised.
'I can still grab some lunch when we go down.' she dismissed easily. 'But sleep is precious and you never get enough of it.'
'Food is precious too. And you never get enough of it.' I countered, eyes narrowing at her.
'Missing breakfast for one day to let you get some proper sleep isn't going to make much of a difference. Besides, even you have to admit that I've been eating better recently.' She had a point but that didn't mean I was okay with her skipping meals for my sake. Because, with Alia, letting it slide once would lead to a second time and a third and, soon enough, she'd be in a downward spiral straight back to where she started.
When her stomach made its displeasure known, I felt a familiar spike of protective anger - not directed at the girl before me but at myself. Guilt filled me as I realised it was me and my insistence on staying in bed that had resulted in her hunger. 'How long have you been sat here waiting for me to get up so you could eat?'
'Couple of hours.' she shrugged. The guilt became a nauseating feeling.
'Next time, wake me.' I instructed. She shook her head, about to protest. 'Alia, I know how this works, how you work. I'm not going to let you go back there again.'
'Stop acting like a protective husband.' she scoffed with half a laugh.
'Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?' I teased. She rolled her eyes playfully and shook her head.
'That's exactly what you're not supposed to be doing.' she refuted. It was said jokingly but there was something underneath it, something that wasn't hidden quite well enough to stop me from reading it in her eyes: don't make this harder than it needs to be. I looked at her curiously, wondering if she'd purposely let me see that, knowing she could always keep her thoughts tucked away to stop me from reading them if she wanted. She shrugged, both in answer to the question of if it was on purpose and the one of what it meant. 'Can we go get some food now?' she asked quietly, probably more to distract me than because of her actual hunger. But because I knew she really was hungry and because whatever the answers to my questions were weren't nearly as important, I agreed with a nod. She gave me a relieved smile and got out of bed, heading for the bathroom.
As I listened to the sounds of the shower being switched on and the water running and Alia beginning to sing to herself, my thoughts drifted from the burning questions that I needed answers to and as my brain filtered through the thoughts and memories from the past four weeks and then of the past few years, I came to the realisation that this - the act now and everything else that had happened over the past few years - was so simple, so easy, because of the girl who was by my side through it, the one who had never left me. I found myself wondering if it would've been so easy if it were another girl I was living with, sharing my life with. My thoughts went to Natasha and of the time I'd spent with her, thought of how inflexible she was in her ways, thought of how reluctant she'd been to work around my schedule, to understand my career - my life. She's new to all of this, I told myself in defence of the girl, it takes time to adjust to it. Alia lives the same kind of life as you, she's used to it already. I considered it for a moment but some part of me didn't agree. Alia understands the bits that aren't part of my career. She's willing to work her life around mine, make our lives fit together, that part of me argued - whether it was my heart or head, I didn't know. Because you've known her for years, you've spent so much time together, your lives are already so entwined. You know each other in ways others don't, the other part of me fought. But that's just it, isn't it? Alia knows me. And I know her. And this is all so easy with her, it's natural. What if, when all of this is done, when I'm with Natasha, what if it's not so easy? I questioned, suddenly worried. And the other part of me fell silent, allowing the scenario to unfold in my mind's eye, letting me worry over what it would be like when the girl at my side was no longer Alia. She doesn't know me, she'll never now me. How are we supposed to have a future together when she knows nothing of my past? I questioned myself. And beyond that, she's possessive. She doesn't like Alia, already doesn't want me near her. What happens afterwards? Neither part of me had an answer. But the part of me that spoke with Natasha's voice had another question. Why does it matter? All that should matter is who you love and who makes you happy. What does it matter if you have to let a friendship become a little weaker for the sake of your love? I instantly felt disgusted with myself for thinking such a thing. Alia matters. She's been with me through so much. I can't lose her. I told myself firmly. Even if it's for love? Even if it's what she wants? Think about it, she wants you to be happy. She knows the risks of this but she's going along with it because she wants you to be happy. I thought about it but the only thing I could pull up was the memory of our fight. 'She thinks she has a right on you but does she even know you?' Alia's words rang through my head. This time, I gave an answer. No, she doesn't, I finally thought. But you love her. You love her and she loves you and that's what really matters. I shook my head, trying to clear the warring thoughts and find the argument for that, coming up with only one thing: the things that hadn't been said that day but echoed in my head as clearly as though they'd been yelled at me just a minute ago. She makes you happier than I ever did. Now you have her, I'm insignificant. I thought you were happy with me.
As the thought clanged around in my head, I realised I'd not bothered to tell her the truth then, tell her that I was - am - happy with her. Because I hadn't realised it until it was my defence in the argument with myself: Alia makes me happy. But that doesn't mean you give up on love for her, the voice spoke up again. For a moment, I thought maybe I should, should let go of Natasha and...
And what?
Lie to Alia, tell her that I'd never loved Natasha, just thought I did. Tell her I wanted to keep living this life with her. That I love her. Come clean on everything to everyone. Make the fake marriage a real one. Both of us could be happy with that, I was sure. And maybe along the way, friendship would become love. Alia had told me countless times that she could see herself falling for me, that I have the qualities she looked for. And I could fall for her, it would be so easy to. I could learn to love her.
I imagined it, almost convinced myself that's what I should do and then I thought about what it would involve. The first thing I'd have to do would be lie to Alia - lie about loving her. She'd most likely see through it but she'd know what I was thinking and accept it. I had no doubt that we'd be happy together but then there was the fact that she was yet to fall in love, yet to find that guy. And this would take away that chance. She'd give it up, I knew that; for me, she'd give it up in a heartbeat. I'd take it too. Ask another thing from her and take it happily. The thought made me feel sick.
That was enough to let me know what my decision was. I'd choose love; even if I knew it might cost me a friendship - cost me my best friend, meant losing Alia - even if my heart broke - shattered - at the thought, I'd choose love. For both of us.
***
My mind was made up but Alia didn't make it easy for me to stick to it. I kept having to tell myself that I had to but then I woke up next to her every day, spent the whole day with her, acting married even when we didn't need to - because it came naturally. Every night - or morning when we had night shoots - I watched as she fell asleep next to me, her head on my hand on the pillow next to mine, hands wrapped loosely around my arm, and I revisited that brief daydream, rethought my decision. Each time I came back to the same result but it became harder and harder to convince myself that it was the right decision.
I knew that Alia could see that there was something bothering me but she didn't question it, giving me the time to process as she always did. I was aware that she wouldn't ask me about it so long as it didn't interfere with my work or wellbeing and, as long as I didn't focus on those thoughts during the day, it didn't come in the way of either.
I briefly hoped that, given enough time, work and the other things going on would take the thoughts from my mind but I quickly realised that the became stronger with time. A week passed and another and still the thoughts plagued me. The more I tried to convince myself that I shouldn't think on it, shouldn't doubt myself, the more I felt that there was something wrong. The fact that I was still wondering about it, still doubting, meant there was something wrong in my decision. I tried and tried to put it from my mind, did everything I could think of. I spent more time discussing scenes with Shashank, found excuses to spend less time with Alia, made more frequent phone calls to my parent and brother and Natasha. But still the thoughts wouldn't leave me alone.
The shoot progressed and we went from Nice to Gevaudan and finally to Paris and still, in the silent moments I got to myself, the times when everything was quiet and still, either in the dark of the night or the crisp new light just after dawn, thoughts bounced around in my mind. Most often, it was the temptation to rethink things that kept me awake but sometimes, in between the warring voices, there were other things, thoughts and memories of a simpler time. Part of me missed those times, yearned to return to them but another, bigger, part of me thought about how things might be different now if I'd done things right back then. It was that part of me that wondered if I was making the same mistakes again now.
I knew I couldn't deny it, that I had made many mistakes in the past. From the playboy attitude to the way I'd sometimes taken advantage of people, especially Alia. I'd been a mess and made a mess but, if I thought about it properly, I realised the mistakes started even before the problems with Imara.
Now, looking back without blinkers on, without the veil of emotions, I realised that I'd been blinded by what I thought was love to listen when people told me she wasn't right for me, too infatuated to see the warning signs that my friends did. Natasha was different, of that I was certain. Even if I wouldn't trust my own judgement, I trusted Alia's and knew that she'd have been able to tell from their one meeting if there was something off about her character, just like she had with Imara - she'd noticed and warned me and I'd ignored her. And I wondered if ignoring her now, not heeding her warnings about having to be on guard, not paying attention to the little things - the things I would usually pick up on where others failed to but now had unintentionally began to dismiss - if by doing these things, I wasn't making the same mistake again.
It wasn't until we finished the France schedule and were on our way to Sweden that I voiced any of my thoughts. I didn't dare to tell Alia, knowing full well how she would react. Instead, I waited until the plane had ascended and almost everyone had fallen asleep before getting up from the seat beside her and going to sit in one of the empty chairs across the cabin, silently asking Shashank - who was thankfully still awake - if he'd join me. He did, taking the seat across from me. 'What's bothering you?' he asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.
'Am I making a mistake? With Alia?' I questioned, feeling my stomach churn.
'Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to tell you what you need to hear?'
'As much as I may regret this, tell me the truth.' I told him with a sigh.
'I think... I think Alia's a very good friend for helping you like this. I also think you're both in some difficult positions here. As for you making a mistake, well, that depends on how you think this will end. If you plan on keeping your friendship intact - keeping it the same - then, no. If you don't think you can manage it...' he left the end of the sentence hanging in the air between us, letting me fill in the blank for myself.
'I've got myself into some serious shit here, haven't I?' I asked.
Shashank, being the great friend that he is, nodded in agreement. Somehow, I couldn't even be bothered to scowl at him.
***
The Sweden schedule didn't even last two weeks. We had few scenes to shoot there which gave us some time to explore - something I was mostly glad of. Sweden held a lot of memories for me, memories of the innocent young child I had been when my dad had filmed here, and wondering around brought those memories back to me.
As we walked through the small villages, occasionally stepping into the shops, I narrated them to Alia, who'd laugh and tease and laugh some more. And as I watched her laugh, combatted her teasing and engaged in our usual banter, I began to pick up on the little things again. I didn't realise at first but, one day I noted the way her eyes shone as she laughed, the way her breath caught in her throat when we entered a shop full of crystals that scattered the light, the pensive looks that didn't show on her face but only in her eyes, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It put my brain at ease to know I still saw those things, let me enjoy things fully.
Maybe later I'd wonder about why it was so important but for the moment I didn't care.
***
From Sweden we went to Italy. We spent longer there, both because of shoot and because we all decided to take advantage of the fact we were there and do some sightseeing. Of course, the fact that we filmed at places like the Colosseum made it easier to sightsee but Shashank - ever the history buff (in denial) - wanted to see Pompeii so he had purposely scheduled an extra day in Italy.
After our time in Italy, we went to the last country in our European schedule: England.
Of course, Shashank didn't want the traditional tourist attraction shots so he took us to the lesser known cities, the places nobody in Hind cinema had shot in before.
We went first to Blackpool, spent most of the day at the beach waiting for nightfall so we could film on the pier. We spent four nights promenading on the pier in our character's clothes with film equipment. The intention had been to leave on the fifth day but a tree on the train line meant that - while our equipment could go ahead in the one van we'd hired - we'd be staying an extra night by the sea.
So on the fifth night, me and Alia walked the pier in our own clothes, ending up on the beach with a cone of chips, watching the reflection of the moon ripple on the water.
Neither of us mentioned the night to the others, even when Shashank asked me why my shoes were coated with sand the next afternoon as we walked to the train station.
***
It took two trains to get to Nottingham and by the time we reached, evening had already begun to turn to night. Tired from the journey, we all made our ways to our rooms after a quick dinner.
We spent a week filming in and around Sherwood Forest, the short autumn days meaning we were up at the crack of dawn to make the most of the daylight. It also meant that by half four - at the very latest - the light had become too dim to film so we were back at the hotel for five at the latest. We used the time to go out, Alia's reminder that I went to university in the city resulting in me playing tour guide.
Once we'd finished filming in Nottingham, we had one last city to visit. Shashank had done his research and found out about a Diwali celebration in Leicester. Of course, it wasn't just about the celebration; the plan was to film of the Golden Mile with the lights and decorations but Shashank had planned it so that we got there on the 13th of November - the day before Diwali. We filmed during the night and took the 14th off to celebrate Diwali. Because the road was closed off for the celebrations, we weren't supposed to go down it, not wanting to risk it with the amount of people there would be, but Shashank persuaded us to go for the fireworks and so we went, miraculously going unnoticed.
It was a night of fun and food and family. Even with the fact that I'd only been able to speak my parents briefly and only managed to get Rohit on the phone for a minute, I didn't feel for even a second that I wasn't with my family.
But the night ended too quickly. By midnight we were back at the hotel, all of us dreading having to wake up at seven the next morning.
I felt the dread more keenly than any of the other, not just because I didn't want to be up early. The start of the next day meant the beginning of our last week of filming. Sure, there would be a couple of days of shoot once we got back to Mumbai, filming for out songs, but we'd pretty much reached the end of the film. It was the longest I'd spent on the film, this schedule had been the longest outdoors shoot I'd ever been on - it would be ten weeks by the time it ended - yet it seemed like the shortest.
I never liked coming to the end of a film but this time I was more reluctant than ever to let go. This time, I didn't have to say anything to anyone about what was bothering me, Alia figured it out. She waited until our last night to say anything and we spent all night talking up on the roof of the hotel while everyone else was downstairs at the wrap party.
A/N: Ello, ello ello!
Soooo.... looks like Mr. Dhawan is a little confused huh?
Will he keep to his decision or does Miss Bhatt manage to make his resolve crumble?
Stay tuned to fiind out!
Really hope you enjoyed that ch apter and we'll see you Monday.