Chanchal slathered Faajal's curls with coconut oil while blathering about the broadcast she had watched of the film festival. "I must say Yusuf bhaiya has carved history with that song! That firangi American was overjoyed! Does that Reuben exactly look like what he does on television?"

"Better." Reuben's reflection flashed on her mind, built like a storm yet brittle like a flower. "There's nothing you cannot love about him, albeit Pran seemed irate...a bit,"

"For this, you have to have a good mind. How is he to see the beauty in people if he's only boasting his own?" snarled Chanchal, now massaging her back. Relief splayed through Faajal's spine, dispelling the ache from sitting too much yesterday. Nightingales ringed the sprigs of the mango tree at the bungalow's corner. That Spring had waved, fragrant buds of mango bloomed atop the leaves. The sky was an alloy of blue and gold. Sober breeze danced through her room.

Brisk treads pattered the floor suddenly. "Did you read today's magazines?!" Meher blurted by the door, jerking Faajal from her placid mood.

The youngest stormed in, ajar magazines rustled in her hold. The first one read 'An explosive wish and an unexpected pair'. Other two had Faajal and Yusuf individually on the front page.

{A/N: I was so strained by my exams, so I randomly decided to make these covers.}

"Yesterday, the world had its luminous fusion of Western charisma and Eastern allure, but it all flared at its peak when Indian 'Lover Boy' Rajan Saxena surprised everyone with his velvety singing voice, dedicating a soulful rendition of Happy Birthday to Reuben Wallace. Clad in a navy-blue tuxedo, his pomaded hair gleaming under the chandeliers, Saxena transformed the classic tune into a jazz-infused serenade. His baritone, smooth yet rich with emotion, made even Reuben—a man known for his skittish demeanour—blush and laugh in delight. The orchestra swelled behind him, trumpets and pianos elevating the moment into something magical.

"I fear you may snatch my career if you continue like this!" joked Reuben afterwards, pulling Rajan in a warm embrace. The crowd erupted—was this a starting point to Hollywood for Bollywood's cinematic god?

While Rajan Saxena was engrossed in redefining cultural evolution, his better half was spotted in an unprobed pairing—tragedienne Madhu Sharma with Reuben Wallace himself. Later at night, as the ballroom light dimmed and a classic waltz began, the two screen wonders were caught prancing at the centre. Look at their smiles! Madhu certainly holds the charm to forge an amiable string with anyone, including Hollywood's biggest bombshell!

Furthermore, sexpot Pran Malhotra was busy whipping desi girls rather than joining his friends in foreign meetings. Bollywood's shiniest party boy was seen gleaning pecks from Nimmi and Meena, once again validating his sensual spell. The pink and beige lipstick stain on his shirt was enough to tell how much this Casanova can seduce!

Below were photographs of Yusuf hopping on the stage; the light sloped in his frame at a precise angle. Then came snippets of Faajal and Reuben's smiling faces while twirling. Beside her, Pran stole the show with his steamy shots, Nimmi and Meena gripped his collar with amused smiles.

"When I joined the Waltz, cameras were gone. I wonder how they snapped this." A wrinkle caved Faajal's temple. What if this slipped into Ravinder's hands and he misinterpreted?

"It's okay nah, di! Media is always hungry for shots!" Meher waved off her strain, flumping on bed. "Pran bhaiya looks good with that tuxedo."

Chanchal cocked her nape. "Let me see," Glancing at his image, her nose squinted as if bitter melon had fraught her mouth. "He is like okay, fit for an actor. But Yusuf bhaiya just looked gorgeous! Stunning! And my sister looked like those serene fairies of fairytales." Faajal playfully reproached. "Haat! Look at Waheeda's gown!" Waheeda Aman had stunned everyone with her fish-cut gown, encrusted with rhinestones. How could a meek chiffon compete with that?

"She's in her place, you're in your place. If you didn't bear that magnetism, why half of the country is mad after you?" Chanchal drawled, braiding Faajal's tresses.

"One wink of your doe eyes and men melt to their knees." Meher purred, placing magazines at Chanchal's side and walked out. "Now, I have to attend my tuition because I don't have the most beautiful face to charm men and earn cash, do I?" she giggled.

"Does ma remember Mr Prakash is coming?" Faajal said. Director Om Prakash was scheduled to discuss the script for his new project tonight since he wanted Faajal to play the female lead. He was reputed for meticulously imitating Western glamour in his films. It was a stark possibility for someone like Faajal, who's always hunting for diverse scripts.

After finishing shooting, Faajal retreated home at nearly 8.30 pm. Gurbani had already set up the table, and the maids had neatly organised the living room. The aroma of assorted cuisines danced above. Ravinder was skimming through a newspaper, perfectly garbed for the meeting. His presence was never for the script rather for the paychecks. If someone dumped trash on him for lakhs of rupees, he would still lick their foot. But in these years of leaping fame, he had lent her a little freedom—selecting scripts. She could have her favourite project if it fulfilled his demands. Still restrained but better than before.

Faajal went upstairs and immediately turned on the shower. Prakash was supposed to arrive by now. Wrapping her wet tresses in a towel, her feet scurried to the dressing table when a bell rang downstairs. He had arrived.

She rashly rubbed lotion and cream and slithered out a purple salwar kameez from her closet. Usually, she preferred sarees as to decorum, but time was scarce now.

Having half-drenched curls swinging on her back, Faajal scrambled past two stairs at once and stood before a middle-aged man attired in khaki pants and a linen shirt. His salt and pepper hair was slicked back. The instant she emerged, his eyes stopped on her. He remained dazed in his seat. Not even a single blink broke his stare.

"Welcome, Prakash sahab. Hope you didn't have difficulties coming here," Faajal flashed a tight-lipped smile. Prakash jolted back from stupor and hastily shot up from his seat, managing a flushed smile, but his eyes were still raking her. Night breeze made way through the ajar bay window, fluttering her locks. Faajal Kaur stood in the guise of Madhu Sharma, garbed in a simple salwar-kameez and damped curls, yet she fostered such power to hypnotise one to the point of utter silence. Without lipstick or additional apparel.

"No, no! It's never a problem. How do you do?" Prakash returned her smile, his cheeks burned.

"I am quite fine and eagerly waiting for your next masterpiece. Shall we start?" Faajal nestled on the sofa with poise. Ravinder eyed them from his armchair. Prakash explained every nook and cranny of the project and what he had envisioned for her character. Nimmi decided to take the other female lead's role.

"What do you think of the male leads?" Faajal sipped her tumbler of water.

"I have considered many, but I need a pair that looks youthful, charming and a blend of East and West. You know what I mean? Like, they should feel fresh and sensual. Somewhat different," Prakash flipped a page of the script. "And, my casting director has settled upon Pran Malhotra and Raj."

"And what's your opinion?" Faajal maintained her composure, but her insides were flapping in excitement. The edges of her lips pulled slightly apart.

"I have already discussed with Mehboob Khan, and he's showing positive signs. If I get to reach them both directly, we can start shooting." Prakash said. Hope gleamed in his eyes.

"So, having four of the biggest stars in your film, the budget must be huge as always." Ravinder lastly ended his muteness. His look slid to Faajal, feigning vanity about her. "I hope my daughter gets the worth she deserves. Should we discuss it in the studio?"

Ravinder's formidability fazed Prakash as he fumbled for words. "Don't worry about the payment, Mr Singh. You would know my name for valuing artists."

A glacial smile lay on Ravinder's leering face. "You know business well,"

Faajal's orbs whisked intently between those two, and the intimidating connection formed among them. She needed to pivot the discussion. "About the wardrobe test, Prakash sahab, it is better to inform me earlier."

"Nimmi is ready, so I want to fix a time the day after tomorrow. My manager will inform yours, don't worry." Prakash gave a nervous chuckle, partly relieved of Ravinder's tense gawp.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

"Hello," Faajal spoke into the telephone transmitter. "Yusuf hain?"

"Main hi hu. Bol," Yusuf moaned as if he hadn't slept for days.

"Why didn't you tell me Paraksh had reached you?" she whined, burrowing a crease on her temple.

"We haven't discussed face-to-face. That Mehboob has talked with him." A long yawn resonated in the receiver. "Why? What happened? I know he wants you."

"Don't you want to do this film?"

"It's the third time in a row I am playing the type of character he has brought for me. Nothing new." His bored confession was, albeit reasonable. Audiences admired him bringing the same character to different films on screen. And Mehboob Khan, like Ravinder, loved profit. So, it was no surprise if the studio head compelled Yusuf to take the role.

"Pran may love the character, though," Yusuf's buoyant chuckle returned, but weariness lingered.

"So are you signing up?" Fret laced her question.

"I have no choice but to." He sighed, disappointment stark in the words. Bollywood had two different sections—one for glitz, one for artistry. And Yusuf Khan Dehlavi was trapped in a gilded cage of global stardom, tacitly labelled as a typecast. 

A/N: Heyy, pretty people!! I know the chapter is boring, and I was supposed to return on 13th May. But, I was missing you guys, sooooo much!!! Just 19 more days, and I shall drop a banger, I promise.....Please vote and comment if you loved the chapter....Also, subscribe to my YouTube channel for spoilers and edits!! The link is in my profile bio! Also, we have won the first place in the romance category in the Twilight Awards!!

XoXo,

Luna