Happy Dussehra ✨

-• you don't fall in love with stars •-

Rudra

Choice is an armour of a skilled manipulator.
Makes you think you're in control of your decisions, when it's actually them.

I look at the hand offered to me.

Then at the people having their eyes on me. She knows I can't reject her in front of all these people. And she's well benefitting herself from my helpless situation. I put away the flute of my red wine and take her hand into mine, getting up before I lead her to the dance floor. She follows me wordlessly.

In the center of stage, I turn around and pull her closer by her waist. She gasps softly when her chest brushes against mine. I stop myself from rolling my eyes. My arm goes around her waist, her hand settles on my shoulder, the other encloses with mine.

A soft violin music starts playing in the background.

Her eyes don't leave my face. They stare at me intensely, kind adoration in them. She's besotted. I twirl her around, uncomfortable under her gaze. Her eyes flicker back to stare at me openly.

"Why so cold?" She murmurs.

I look down at her. Her sparkling blue gown shimmers in the spotlight.

"At least give me a chance."

I spin her away, hands not breaking apart, and I use that to pull her back into my arms. "You're a life late."

She chuckles. "Really? I don't think so. I think I'm right on time."

I smile mirthlessly. "Doesn't matter what you think. And I'd suggest you stop making eyes at me. Not very dignified of you."

Shame fills her eyes. She pulls back abruptly. I bow at her in respect before walking off the stage. The Chairman raises a brow at me in question from the distance, I choose to shrug off the matter and head upstairs to release myself from the growing suffocation. I step out in the fresh air and take a deep breath, leaning on the balcony railing to calm down.

I look up at the sky.

The melancholic grey clouds drift slowly into the never-ending darkness. And the dark so consuming it swallows every light. There is no star in the sight.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of missing her.

Fishing out my phone, I take a leap of faith and press the call option. It rings. I inhale a deep breath, my hand suddenly starts to sweat. I wipe it to my trousers, holding the device in my other hand.

A beep, followed by a quiet, "Hello."

I flinch so hard the phone leaps into air. I throw myself over the railing to catch it and lose my balance. "Oh shit!" One hand holding the grill, the other holding the phone, I hang like a loser from my own balcony.

Fuck my life.

"Hello?" The voice resonates.

"Shit," I grunt and lift myself into the air until I'm holding the railing to my chest, my arm folded across the iron rod. The other hand rises to press the phone to my ear. "Hello," I breathe out hoarsely.

"Shourya?"

I frown.

This is not Taranya.

"Janet?" I guess.

"Yes. Why are you calling Tara?"

I go to smack my forehead, forgetting the situation I'm in and almost lose myself to the pull of gravity. A yelp escapes my mouth and I cling to the railing tightly.

"What's wrong? Where are you?" She asks, concern reflecting in her voice.

"I'm hanging."

"Hanging? As in hanging out? With who?"

"By myself!" I snap.

"Oh, have fun, I guess?" She mumbles.

"I'm hanging on a balcony." I grit out.

She gasps. "Wait! What? Hanging as in not hanging out but literally hanging?"

"Yes, Janet. Hanging as in literally hanging." I growl.

Silence follows.

Then a soft, "Is it a hobby?"

My mouth opens to reply with wit, then I clasp it shut. You can't communicate with a clown. You can just watch in disbelief as it pulls up the most bizzare stunts in front of your eyes.

"Where's Taranya?"

"She's sleeping. We were watching You and she fell asleep."

"You guys were watching me?" I ask, slightly flustered.

I groan when my arm slips a little. I put in more strength. What's wrong with me lately? I've hung upside down over a forty storey building. This should be a piece of cake for me.

"Uh huh, look at the audacity." She chuckles. "We were watching a show. It's called You."

"Oh, right." I whisper. "What is it about?"

"A psychopath who defends his psychotic behaviour."

"Very interesting," I review blankly.

"What's more interesting is your call." She says casually. "I thought you guys broke up."

"Did she tell you why?"

"Yes. You and Rudra are same."

"You don't sound very shocked."

"Shock wore off, Shourya. It's been months."

"Right." I mutter, breathing through my mouth as I begin to sweat bullets. "You must hate me."

"Nope. Taranya doesn't hate you. Why should I?"

"She doesn't hate me?" Hope flickers in me.

"She doesn't give a damn about you."

Yeah, the hope flickers off.

"How did you end up hanging on a balcony?" Comes her question.

"I called Taranya, the call was answered, I went a little crazy."

She laughs. "You thought she answered the phone?"

"Yeah, I mean, normally you expect the owner of the phone to answer the call. You know that's how phone communication works, right?"

"Stop acting smart. I'm laughing because you have the audacity to think she'll ever answer your phone."

"My bad, I didn't know having hope equals to having audacity."

"Men having hope after fucking up is the prime example of men having audacity." She states.

"You would know."

"I do."

"Yeah, you've dated many."

"Are you calling me a slut?"

"I would never use such degrading words to define a woman's independent approach towards her dating life. That's what you think the world thinks of you." I reply.

"I hate you."

"I thought we had that established? I'm not really a big fan of you either."

"Why are you talking to me then?" She grumbles.

"I'm hanging from the second floor, Janet. This might be my last conversation. I'm not with the choice here, you see?"

She snorts. "Don't call Tara again. She already has a man in her life."

I stiffen. "Who?" My tone barely controlled.

"His name's Tarun."

I scoff, the tension releases my body. "Yeah, he's not the man in her life."

"He- He is!"

"He's not. But good try fooling me." I mock.

"And you'd know?"

Because I set him up.

"She has standards."

"Tarun is a hundred times better than you!"

I smirk. "I never said he's not. He is. Many men are. But he's not me. Her standard is me."

"You sound delusional."

"C'mon, Janet, we both know her type."

"Yeah, it's problematic." She agrees.

"There you go."

"So you admit you're problematic?"

"I admit I'm her type." I rephrase.

"Same difference." She scowls. "Anyway, have fun hanging. Good bye." She hangs up.

I roll my bottom lip beneath the incisors and shove the phone in the pocket of my blazer, using my other hand to exert equal strength in lifting me up. In a minute, I'm effortlessly climbing the railing and standing straight in my balcony. Huffing out a relieved breath, I flick my jacket, brush off the dust on my trousers and walk back inside the room.

Tossing my phone on the bed, I enter the closet to change into something comfortable. I'm done partying and socializing for the day. I need peace.

Coming out, I put on my AI glasses and shift to the bed with my laptop. An email from Arush pops up. I frown and click on it.

Assignment.

Arush Chauhan 9:03 PM
to me v

Dear Shourya,

Assignment is due.

Mine.

Send yours.

Please.

Thank you.

Signing out, Arush. (The handsome twin)

I remove my glasses to rub my temple. Putting them back on, I compose an email and send him all the material I used as a reference for my assignment.

As soon as I switch to another window, he calls me on Skype. My jaw clicks. I hit enter. His face takes up my entire screen. "Hey, I asked for your assignment." He smiles innocently.

"Use the material I sent you to write your own." I reach out to hang up.

"No, no, no, wait! Help me out." He scrambles to pick up his MacBook. "I went through the material you sent me-"

"You didn't." I cut him off. He literally called me a second after I hit send.

He sighs. "Alright, I didn't. But did you see the size? 1.08 GB? Shourya, I'm not about to write a thesis." He grunts.

"It's Diwali, Arush. Go and burst crackers."

"We don't burst crackers. It's harmful to the environment."

"Stop. Awareness doesn't suit you." I squint my eyes.

He sighs heavily. "Agastya Bhai is not here. We used to have so much fun. I thought I'll get to see my old Bhai again on Diwali. I'm sure you're aware how much he changed after his accident. But somewhere I had hope. Especially because of Tara. But now we lost dad, and I don't know, the only people who used to match my energy are all sad and depressed." He distracts himself picking at the lint on his mattress.

"You don't miss your father?"

He shrugs. "Miss what? I mean, yeah, I love him, so not seeing him around hurts. But miss what? He was not an ideal father. He didn't take us on vacations or played basketball with us or took out time to talk to us."

"At least he was there." I tell him.

"Doesn't matter, Shourya. Doesn't make much of a difference."

A memory hits me hearing his words.

"Now tell me who's more miserable?"

"All of them."

"True. Doesn't make much of a difference." I shake my head to brush off the topic. "Tell me what you need help with?"

"Finally," he mumbles.

For the next two hours, I help him prepare his assignment. The thing with Arush is that he thinks he's doing a favour on Yuvraaj by taking Business as his major. So he doesn't make much efforts to understand the nuances of this world of trickery. There's time before he can get out of that mindset. As of now, there's no progress. And I don't expect any either. It's not easy locking up your dreams to fullfill someone else's. As long as he doesn't regret, business will only serve him as a boon. He's born with a life where everything is already dished out on a golden plate for him. All he need to do is lift the spoon and taste the world.

When I hang up, my laptop's battery is on the verge of running out. I plug it into charger and put it away on the nightstand before getting off the bed to approach my shelf. I skim through the titles and pick out Life 3.0 by Max Tegmark. Throwing a few pillows on my rocking chair, I plop down and sway myself back and forth to get a momentum. Opening the first page, I lean back and start to read.

I fall asleep halfway through, around the break of dawn.

A knock breaks my slumber. I groan while stretching my arms and my locked bones release with a pop. The book slides down my chest. I catch it before it could slip through the armrest gap of the chair. The knock repeats.

"Coming!" I shout out. Putting the book back in its place, I walk up to the door and pull it open. My mood dampens seeing the face I'm wanting to forget. "What is it?"

"Good morning, to you too." She smiles.

"Why are you here?" I deadpan.

"She wants to see the city." I straighten up hearing the Chairman's voice. Niharika chuckles softly in amusement. I glare at her. She seals her lips shut.

What's so funny?

"So I suggested you take her out and show her around." He stops next to her.

"I'm not a tour guide, Dadu. I can just take her places, not tell her about their history or significance."

"Such a shame." Niharika comments. "I expected the Prince of Rajgarh to know about its history."

"He's just being modest, darling. He knows the city like the back of his palm, don't you, Shourya?" The old man looks at me pointedly.

I force a nod.

"See, he'll show you around. Go and get ready. You two can head out after breakfast." And he walks away after pushing me into yet another volcano eruption.

This old geezer is a living proof of how world is not fair.

I narrow my eyes at the woman in front of me. "I thought I clearly emphasized the boundaries between us last night?"

"I just want to see the city, Shourya." She defends.

"In fifteen. I'll wait for you in my car." I slam the door close and storm inside the bathroom for a shower.

The lukewarm water runs down my exhausted body. I sigh softly. After coming out of the shower, I cover up my scars using waterproof makeup. There was a time I used to hate this thing, only because I couldn't use it properly. Now I can give a make-up artist a run for their money.

I put on black trousers and a charcoal grey shirt. Buttoning up, I roll the sleeves to my elbows. Using the gel to style my hair the usual way, I then pick up my cologne and finish off the morning routine by putting on my socks and shoes.

Amir stands in attention at the door upon seeing me.

"Are we going somewhere, sir?" He asks when the car arrives.

Hearing the heels click, we both glance over our shoulders. I look back at him. "Let's entertain Miss. Delhi for a while?" I ask. He holds back a smile of amusement and nods, stepping back when Niharika arrives. She looks between us in confusion.

"Something funny?" She asks me.

I hold the door open for her. "Inside joke." I answer.

She looks unimpressed. I close the door after she gets in. A nod at the bodyguard and he quickly gets in his car. I sit behind the wheel and turn on the engine. Amir follows me in his black Mercedes.

Thankfully, she has made an iternary of all the places she wants to visit and I only need to drive her around.

First, we stop at the twin gardens.

"Why is this called twin gardens?"

"Because they look alike."

Next, the Ruined Mahal.

"What happened to this place?"

"I don't know. I was born a few hundred years later."

Then, Parvati Lake.

"I heard Godess Parvati used this water for her morning baths?"

"So the rumour goes."

She sighs aloud.

For the last spot, she chooses a fine dine restaurant. "This is no historical location." I say reading the name Phuket Delights.

"Yeah, I can tell that." She nods. "It's a restaurant." She smiles at me sarcastically before climbing the stairs of the entrance. I follow begrudgingly and hold the door open for her. "Thank you," she says courteously before walking inside.

We get a window side table allocated on the third floor. I pull the chair for her, she sits down. I maneuver to my own and settle down. My gaze drifts to the sight outside. It's beautiful. I rarely get to see the top view of this city since I spend most of my time in Jaigarh.

The waiter comes over to take our order.

I order the same as her. I know shit about Thai cuisine.

"So, who is she?" She asks me after the waiter leaves.

"Taranya Singh Chauhan." I answer.

"That was quick." She nods. "The Princess of Jaigarh?"

I spread open the napkin on my lap, nodding nonchalantly in response to her question.

"A literal princess. I don't stand a chance, do I?" She raises a brow at me.

I shake my head honestly.

"And what if I persist?"

"I'd be annoyed."

"What if you fall for me instead?"

"Not possible."

"How can you be so sure of the future?"

"I know my feelings. And I know they'd never waver."

"Feelings are fleeting, Shourya. Today it's her, tomorrow it might be me."

I laugh a little. "What can I say? One can hope."

"Where is she?"

That leaves me stumped.

A victorious smile blooms on her face. "Got it. You're in no different place than mine."

I lick the inside of my lower lip, my eyes freezing over her in exasperation. "We're different. We have history."

She chuckles. "What can I say? One can hope."

I look away from the irritating sight.

We're served shortly after. I focus on eating whatever it was on plate. She eats slowly, taking her sweet time. I'd have loved sitting here for hours if it was Tara in front of me. Because a beautiful company doesn't assure a great time.

The bill comes and she offers splitting it in two. I don't object. It wasn't a date. I'm not treating it as one. We drive back to the palace.

"Niharika," I stop her when she turns to climb the stairs after we reach the first floor.

She looks at me with a smile. "You're finally making a conversation?"

"When are you leaving?"

"Why? Do you want me to stay?"

"No. Leave."

She snorts. "Tomorrow morning. Happy?"

She really agreed.

"Yes. Thank you. Good night." And I head to my room, feeling as if a heavy weight was thrown off my chest. I change into my night outfit, grab the pending book from the shelf and sit down to read.

The next day, I only come out to see off the guests briefly. Good riddance. Then I burrow myself in my room and don't leave it until the University starts.

But what are the odds my luck hits a new low on the first day of a new semester?

A lot.

"What are you doing here?" I frown when we cross paths in the library.

She smiles, holding the books tightly to her chest. "I'm here to stay."

Hence, sometimes it's okay to not make a choice.
It's not as if your decision making capabilities are that great either.
So save yourself the trouble.

Lmao, I wanted this chapter to be whole melodramatic but Shourya had different plans in mind. He's like a bunny. Troubled and trapped.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.