New York

"Can you, Sid? Can you promise to love me even when I don't remember you? Can you promise to stand by my side and watch me fall in love with someone else?"

My voice was nothing more than a trembling whisper. I took a step ahead onto the floor illuminated by bands of sunlight, and my shaking legs somehow found a way to stumble despite standing on a polished carpet, but before I could touch the ground, a firm set of hands hold me.

I looked up and into his brown eyes nervously, tears brimming into my own. He was here. So close. He helped me back to my feet but his fingers still lingered on my waist, his grip steady.

I go on. "Can you do that, now? Have me look into your eyes and see you as nothing more than a stranger?"

He gulps. "I love you, and nothing can change that."

I laugh, almost ridiculing what he just said, not knowing if he was reminding me of his love or himself.

"You don't get it, do you?" I look at him with sharp eyes. "I have Alzheimer's. I am bound to forget you, slowly, in pieces, with every breath I take and there's going to be a day when you will be nothing to me. At all. Don't you see it yet? Our love was cursed."

He exhales slowly, almost in an exasperated way. "I think you don't get it, darling. I love you, and you are the only girl I will love till my last breath. And even if you don't remember me, I would not believe that you can just forget our love. Not until I see it. I know you want me to walk away. But I can't."

I blink my eyes at him. "It'll only hurt you in the end."

"And?" He raises an eyebrow. "Hurt is inescapable. In the end, love will always hurt. You just have to choose someone worth being hurt for. And I chose you. I chose to be hurt by you when I decided to go against the world and fall in love with you. So yes, you can hurt me all you want but if I am given the choice to do this all over again, I'd still choose you. I will always choose you."

His eyes look into mine and I feel the urge to cry out loud as I put my arms around his neck. His thumb traces the side of my face as he takes a step closer, almost hovering over me. I could feel his warm breath over mine.

"And.... CUT!"

The director's scream broke the small bubble we were pretending to live in. With one swift motion, my co-actor moved his hand off my face and retraced his steps away from me. I moved behind too, back into the shaded portion of the floor.

The crew broke into a frenzy. While the director and the editor made sure they'd got the perfect shot, checking if we were ready to pack up for the day or if we had to go through the same shot for the fourth time this hour, the spot boys ran in with an umbrella and plastic bottles of water in their hands. A lady started fixing my co-star's vest and coat while another worked on his hair.

I could see my hairstylist making her way to me through the crowds hastily, afraid of being late and not being able to fix my hair before the director calls in for a re-take.

She wasted no time upon reaching me, brushing through my already-straight waist long locks, resetting the bobby pins when they needed no work at all.

"Do you think there's going to be a re-take?" I ask her, and she pauses only for a brief moment, to pass me a warm smile.

"If you ask me, I think this was as perfect as it gets," she replied. "The way you two looked at each other was exactly how I imagined two lovers afraid of losing their love to look. The chemistry you share in front of the camera makes it kind of hard to point out how much you two dislike each other behind it."

I was quick to reply, "We don't dislike each other."

"I'm sorry," her voice was dripping with sarcasm, "The two of you just don't talk to each other behind the camera."

"It's not that," I correct, "He's a superstar. Self made icon and all that. And I'm just a newbie. It's not like you can expect him to talk to me."

She rolls her eyes. "He's just arrogant. Don't make excuses for him."

I open my mouth but say nothing. She quickly adds, "Plus, you have your first film releasing tomorrow. A Netflix Original. The countdown has gotten people's hearts twisting. You wouldn't be a newbie soon enough."

I give her a quick smile. "I hope so."

The director's voice cuts our conversation short. "We got the shot!" He announced, "It's a pack up."

I watch as my hairstylist's hands drop beside her, and she blows some air out her mouth in relief. "God bless the man who decided to give us an early pack up today. See you tomorrow, Nandini."

I smile. There was something about listening to my typical-Indian name from an American mouth that I couldn't get used to, even after spending three years in this city now. "See you tomorrow, Maya."

An early pack up seemed like a relief to everyone. People were quick in their work, wanting to end their job for the day and head home.

I wasted no time in heading to my vanity as well, stripping out of my character's clothes and changing into my casual ones.

When I stepped out of my vanity, the plan was to get home as soon as I could, and getting some rest before the big day tomorrow, but I found myself being captivated by the sunset over the ocean.

Leaving my heels on the polished floors, I walked barefoot on the sand and towards the water, and stood where the tides only touched my toes before receding, leaving a tingling sensation behind. I watched in awe at the sun dipping below the horizon, the sky painted in the last splatters of golden yellow mingling with the blue of the upcoming evening. The wind pleasantly gusted past me, making my hair flow across my shoulders freely into a tangled mess as I inhaled the scent of salt that lingered in an ocean breeze, and it oddly calmed my nerves for tomorrow.

The view in front of me was a perfect movie scene set-up and the producer had paid a hefty bundle of notes to book an entire hotel and this private beach for only this particular week, but it was a last-moment thing when my co-star decided to throw a tantrum. He did not want to stand on the sand to do the scene outside, and so the entire set-up had to be shifted in and the scene that was supposed to be shot in the open by the ocean, had to be completed surrounded by indoor walls.

Even the director couldn't refuse the star's untimely demand in fear that he would just walk out of the project had his demands not been fulfilled, and wouldn't have returned back. No director would want to 'try' this little stunt out because as word goes, this man was conceited enough to walk out on a half-filmed movie without giving two fucks of what it does to his name.

That would be my co-star for you. Aryamman Khurrana.

I wasn't complaining. Facts being told, I was still a newbie and very few newcomers had ever gotten a chance to work with him, so despite his arrogant and self-revolving attitude, I really did consider myself to be casted against him. More than that, I was actually honored to be in a movie directed by Cabir Dhawan. He was pristine in his work. And fun to work with.

"It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

A familiar voice snapped me out of my little reverie, and I instantly turned to my co-star.

"It's...splendid." I add, my eyes flickering back to the skies.

"What are you talking about, again?" He asked, scrunching his nose, leaning a bit to my side to hear it better. There was a good couple feet between us, but I was sure what I said was audible enough.

"The sky?" I said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Oh," he raised his eyebrows. "I was talking about my shoes, but sure, the sky looks good too."

I control the urge to roll my eyes as I look away. Told you, he was self-obsessed.

I shake my head to myself. "Have a good day, Sir," I say, ready to walk back indoors and then home.

"Sir?" He questioned, making me pause. "What made you want to call me that?"

"You're.. I.. uh.." I flustered. He was not much elder to me, but he was an A grade actor, unlike me.

Instead of providing any further explanations, he just chuckled. "Good day to you too, ma'am."

I just nodded timidly with a smile, not knowing what else to say as I walked back inside as fast as I could. I went into my vanity to collect my phone and bag, and was only walking out of the set when I ran into some one else.

"You're still here?"

"Y.. Yeah," I answered, shaking off my conversation with my co-star from a while earlier. I was still a little flustered from that, and wondered if my cheeks were tinted red.

"Nervous?" Cabir asked, effortlessly reading my expressions. I really was this readable, huh? And I act for a living. The irony.

"I am," I mumble.

"What of? The first movies blues or something in particular?"

"It's the critic's reviews, actually," I tell him, "From what I've heard, they can really make or break how a movie does."

"Darling, it's Netflix," he says in a chill tone , "If Netflix began caring about critic reviews, it would probably be a flop app. Most movies on that app are shit and still make millions. Trust me, you're covered."

"Jeez." I grumble, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

He just laughs. "It'll far well. Even with the critics."

"I have decided on not checking them until tomorrow ends," I tell him as we fall in line, walking out of the set together.

"Everyone says that."

I raise my eyebrows at him in question.

"Every newbie says that," he repeats with a snort, "But you'd check anyway."

"I don't want to." I sigh.

"Five bucks tell me you will. Buy me a coffee on your way here if you check it."

"Deal." I smile.

"And God, get some sleep. You're going to get dark circles because of the stress and I don't want to give my make up artists more work than she already has covering the acne because of how much you eat out these days."

"You sure know how to flatter a girl, don't you?" I huff. "Besides, don't think there's any sleep coming in today anyway. I might just watch movies all night."

"Movies all night? Only because I'm the best boss ever, I'll do you a favour then..." He pauses and I watch as his hands dig into his bag, and he removes out two pieces of paper and hands it to me. Reluctantly, I take it. "These are concert tickets, backstage passes," He tells me, "A friend is playing. He gave it to me and since I can't make it, might as well be you. They're two if you have a plus one."

"Thanks." I say, shoving them into my bag without having a second look. "Don't think Jeff would want me out there a night before the movie premieres, but I'll try." It was a lie. I wasn't going, and Cabir knew that too.

"Jeff?" He asked.

"My manger? PR?" I remind him.

"Right. The pixie."

"Don't let her hear you call her that." I shake my head, "She'll skin you alive."

"She can try." Cabir laughs, making me giggle too as he waves and we move into our own opposite directions.

*

I lived in California. Most actors did, actually. So until I was in New York filming for this movie, I was booked in into a hotel with the rest of the cast, until my best-friend in town made me shift out and shift in with her.

That's how I found myself living with Navya. She was a journalist, a Bollywood enthusiast, and one of the only friends I had from back home.

"How was filming?" She asked me with a warm smile when she opened the door of her apartment and I stepped inside pulling a similar smile on my lips.

"Uneventful," I tell her.

"You're a part of the it-world, girl. I'm a journalist. Your days should be eventful and you should give me gossip. Gossip, gossip, gossip!" She joked.

"My co-star didn't want to shoot on sand and we had to shift the entire set indoors, and he then stood on the sand by the water praising his thousand dollar Gucci shoes. Does that count as gossip?"

"No," She rolled her eyes letting me slump on the couch. "But... now that you're here, you should get dressed."

"Why?"

"We're going out for the night."

"No we're not." I groaned. I was tired.

"Shut up, Nandini. It is not your way tonight." She crossed her arms across her chest, "Your movie releases tomorrow and then with this movie you're filming, you're going to be super-duper famous. You know what that means, right? No outings without a personal security and fan interruption a.k.a no privacy! This is your last night as a normal person and I am dragging you out, whether you like it or not!"

"These are, most likely, just castles in the air." I tell her, "No one rises to fame that way."

"Always the realist." She grumbled sitting across me, raising her black-rimmed glasses further on the bridge of her nose. "I'll wear lenses too. We'll take out two pretty dresses and just drink and party. It'll be fun, I promise. Please?"

"Okay," I huffed, "Only this one time though."

She grinned.

"Now could you please pass me my phone from my bag so I'll let Jeff know?" I request, and Navya grabs my bag from beside her, finding my phone for me. "You know, the last time we went out and I forgot to tell her and she got really mad at me-"

"Oh my, God!" Navya's gasp cut me short.

"What is it?" My eyes widened. What if it was a hate letter? My first hate letter? What if someone had slipped them into my bag-

"Concert tickets." She looked up at me with wide betrayed, hurt eyes. I sighed at my dramatist friend. She should have been the actress, I swear.

"Cabir gave them to me," I tell her, "His friend's playing and these are backstage passes. Said it'll work to divert my mind or something."

"Of course." Navya's smile only widened. "Tell your boss I officially love him. And oh, we're going."

"I don't even know who's playing-"

"Lucky for you, I do," She got up, the tickets held firmly in her hand. "Pick out something nice from your wardrobe and please wear fancy. We leave in an hour."

Leaving no space for argument, she left to her room leaving me to go to mine as well. Huffing some air from my mouth, I went inside, rummaging through my make and shift wardrobe. I didn't even know whose concert it was or where it was supposed to be, but one could never go wrong with a little red dress.

*

'Manik Malhotra'

That's what every banner outside the deck said, thousands of fans fleeting inside with cheer and laughter everywhere around us, and I had the opportunity to be back-stage. With him. With the heartthrob. The superstar. The charmer.

I was really here, in his concert. And I was going to get to meet him soon enough.

I'll be damned.

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