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NOOOOO.
Disbelief slid through his veins as he slowly turned to his right. Why would Veda do this to him? Did she secretly hate him? Did he not deserve to bask in his success without Ms. Poison Ivy in attendance?
Four
RAASHI
“I brought Raashi with me!” Akka told Satan. “We’re here to support you.”
Raashi rolled her eyes at her sister’s determined obliviousness. Vedakka had decided that if she kept forcing Raashi and Harsh to spend time together, they would eventually get along. A plan that was doomed to failure.
As if responding to her mental musings, Satan gave her a look of deepest loathing. She dug deep into her reserves and returned the look in equal, if not greater, measure. If he thought she wanted to be here in the middle of this fake, brainless crowd, he could go soak his head.
“We’re so happy for you Harsh.” Akka was looking around the room now, her eyes brightening at the sight of the gazillion celebrities wandering around.
Raashi rolled her eyes again. Her sister was married to a man who made these vapid, self-obsessed twits look like babies playing at stardom. And still, she looked star struck.
Harsh’s languid gaze looked over Veda’s head and at Raashi. He took in the outfit she’d dug out from the black hole in the back of her cupboard for tonight. Raashi didn’t do dresses. She did jeans and cargo pants or best of all, track pants with sweatshirts and oversized t-shirts. But tonight was important to her sister. So, tonight she dressed up.
A hot flush crept up her cheeks as he continued to scan her like a freaking x-ray machine. She fidgeted with the pink chiffon of her dress, self-consciously rearranging it.
“What?” she muttered.
“What the heck are you wearing?” he murmured, his voice low enough for Veda not to hear.
She shrugged irritably. “Akka said it needed to be fancy.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean fancy dress,” he snorted, muffling his snicker with a sip of his drink.
Rage and embarrassment coursed through her at the amusement in his voice. Fuck him. She didn’t belong in this world and she sure as hell didn’t want to belong in it. Raashi knew exactly what kind of snakes slithered through high society. She’d learned her lesson a long time ago and didn’t need a revision class in it. She was about to think up a scathing retort to his taunt, but her sister turned towards them cutting off the building argument.
“Is that Venugopal Iyer?” Veda asked now, her voice filled with awe at the sight of the legendary choreographer.
“Yes.” Harsh’s expression softened as he looked at Veda’s excited face. “Want to meet him?”
Veda bobbed her head, words seeming to fail her. But before they could make their way over, Mr. Iyer disappeared into the theatre. The show was about to start.
“Never mind,” Veda said, disappointment written all over her face. Then, she brightened again like a glow stick. “I’m so excited to watch your movie, Harsh. I’m sure it’s brilliant.”
Raashi snorted. Harsh’s back stiffened at the sound. Brilliant, her arse. Same archaic formula, same misogynistic bullshit. It would be a super hit, but it wouldn’t be brilliant. That was for sure.
“We’re so happy for you. Aren’t we Raashi?” Veda glanced at her, warning darkening her big eyes. Where was that warning when Satan was being nasty about her dress? Her sister was a total Kodela sell-out.
“Thrilled,” Raashi grunted. “Congratulations.”
Harsh made some weird gargling noise back at her, clearly choking on her insincere wishes.
Raashi followed the two of them into the darkened theatre. Harsh led them to the front and seated them in plush recliners in the second row before going to sit in the front row with the curvy bombshell who’d been clinging to him like a tick on a dog earlier.
The movie began with Harsh beating up what looked like twenty men single handed. Miraculously, his shirt shredded itself right off his body to reveal those ridiculous abs of his. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen those abs before. The stupid man kept whipping his shirt off at the drop of a hat. But a self-shredding shirt…that was new. She wondered how science explained this phenomenon.
Curvy ditz squealed in excitement in the front row and clung to Harsh like she was having an orgasm watching the scene. Raashi groaned, sinking into her recliner and shutting her eyes. If she kept watching, she was going to eye roll herself into a migraine before this night ended. Better to keep her eyes shut till the movie ended. The damn recliner was ridiculously comfortable and with her eyes closed, Raashi could imagine she was anywhere but here. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Raashi!”
She mumbled, rolling over in her bed. Someone shook her. Hard. Teeth rattling, Raashi opened her eyes to Veda’s furious eyes and Harsh’s annoyed but strangely amused ones. Oh! She wasn’t in her bed!
“You fell asleep,” Veda hissed.
