ArHi SS: Swayamvar | COMPLETE | 31/7 - Page 6

"Screw you!"

Happy tosses the glass of wine straight into Arnav's face, and my mouth falls open in shock. The camera continues rolling as he sits there, on the set of a fake beach, cheap liquor streaming down his face as she storms off.

"Uh... cut?"

"Arnav, you bought her a pink lingerie on the second date. What the hell?"

"Why didn't he buy me pink lingerie? At least I would have appreciated it!"

Shyam storms off the set with that statement, muttering about pink lingerie and the crappy lighting as the door slams behind him.

"I don't know! You told me to buy clothes, and these are the only clothes I can buy. I know nothing about dresses!"

"You're supposed to take her to the custom tailor and pick out fabric, not buy lingerie yourself."

"No one told me that!"

"And why would you buy her pink lingerie anyway? She wears black. All the time."

"How would I know that?! I'm dating ten girls at the same time!"

A gasp fills the room, and Arnav's eyes widen as he realizes he's put his foot in his mouth. Or rather, he's put his entire leg in his mouth.

Rajjo steps forward, a menacing look on her face as the other girls gang up behind her.

"Um. I mean, I-"

"How about we take a lunch break?"

NK ushers the the girls out of the room quickly, and I follow him out, grabbing a slice of cold, slightly spoiled pizza from four days ago on the way.

"Khushi, can I talk to you?"

NK shuts the door to the dressing room with all the girls. He looks worn and exhausted, with dark circles underneath his eyes. I can sympathize with him- both of us have been struggling since film school, and I'm grateful to him for giving me this chance.

We step into the closet he calls his office and he sinks into the chair, dropping his head into his hands. I sit awkwardly in the other chair, unsure of how to deal with this disillusioned NK. He was always one of the optimistic ones, and seeing him defeated is taking a toll on our entire team.

"Arushi quit."

"She quit? What? Why?!"

"Better job opportunity. I mean, if you had the choice, would you really be here producing this idiotic show?"

I fall silent, knowing that I would have done the same thing if someone would actually accept my scripts.

"I need you to do me a favor. I need you to take up her position, at least until I can find a replacement."

"What?! NK! You know Arnav and I don't always see... eye to eye."

"Khushi, please, I really need this from you. You would only have to brief him on the girls and prepare him for the dates. I promise, not much work outside of what you already do. Please?"

The pleading, desperate note in his voice breaks my resolve, and I nod despite my unwillingness to take up the position. I can't say no to him, and I leave the room with an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.

-***-

I lift my fist up to bang on the door for the third time when a crabby Arnav swings it open, glaring at me with his arms crossed over his chest.

His hair lacks the copious amount of gel he usually wears, and it's messy and hangs around his face. The scruffy stubble on his face only adds to his careless style, and I swallow tightly as my eyes rove over his body shamelessly.

He's wearing squared, thin glasses and a pair of grey sweatpants that hangs low on his waist. His crimson Harvard sweatshirt is riding up, giving me a view of a toned strip of tanned skin as he lifts his arm to brush his hair out of his eyes.

I finally bring my eyes up to meet his, blushing profusely as I realize I've definitely been checking him out. His frown has been replaced by a cocky smirk, and he raises an eyebrow at the blatant approval I'm sure is clear in my expression.

"Did you come here to check me out or...?"

"I was not checking you out."

"Really?"

I choose to ignore his statement and push my way into his penthouse. It's immaculate, much to my surprise, and decorated sparsely with the highest quality furniture. It looks a lot like my own apartment, except with furniture that is much better kept.

"Arushi quit."

He doesn't seem surprised by my statement, and I don't expect him to be. After all, he is my boss, and she would have handed her resignation into him.

"I'm aware."

"I'm her replacement."

If he is surprised, he doesn't show it. He merely nods his approval, before calmly turning and walking away into his apartment.

I'm left in the middle of a large, airy penthouse, completely uncertain of how to react. I follow him into a large kitchen, furnished with top of the line appliances. He calmly pours milk into a pot and grating ginger.

He hands me a cup of chai, leaning comfortably against the shining granite countertops. The chai smells divine, and my tensed nerves instantly calm with the addition of the steaming drink.

"You know, I don't know why we need someone briefing me on all these women."

"Because you do the commendable act of buying a woman lingerie when we tell you to buy her a present."

"None of my other dates have minded much."

I roll my eyes, and he grins impishly. Leaning against the countertop, he looks almost boyish, proud of his not-so-subtle innuendo relating to all the experience he claims to have.

I can see the Arnav from high school in him right now, the one that took great pleasure in telling our entire math class how great his weekend with Ashley Westin was after prom.

"Just how many women have you slept with?"

The question slips out without a second thought, and I'm forced to curse my lack of filter yet again.

"Are you asking for my number?"

I barely restrain yet another eye roll at the mock horror in Arnav's voice, and I see a smug smirk curve his lips as I take another sip of the chai, attempting to mask my embarrassment at my slip.

"No. I'm not asking for your number'"

"Are you... jealous?"

I snap my eyes to him furiously, and I can immediately tell that he's enjoying this immensely.

His eyes sparkle with mischief as he stares at me over the rim of his cup, the steaming liquid lightly fogging up his glasses. A chunk of hair flops over his forehead, and I curse the odd itch in my hand begging me to run my fingers through it and brush it back.

I nervously push my own glasses up my nose, pulling my loose hair into a tight, severe bun at the nape of my neck.

His eyes follow my hand, and his knowing, slightly condescending expression sets me on edge.

"W-Why would I care? I'm not one of the ten women dating you."

"But you wish you could be."

"You're insufferably arrogant."

"So you didn't have a huge crush on me in high school?"

My mouth falls open in indignation, and I toss the cup in the sink and storm out of the room. I can hear him chuckling behind me, and I fight to keep control over my emotions. Revealing any more of my frustration would only validate his claim, and I refuse to let him have that satisfaction.

"Tonight, 8 PM! Wear formal clothes. Don't be late!"

-***-

"And the final rose... goes to Manorama."

Arnav hands Manorama the rose as she walks up, sniffling and wiping her red nose with a tissue as she blows into it with a loud honk. She juts out her chin and sniffs proudly as she walks past Happy, making a scathing remark as she passes by.

"Hmph. Sorry, Happy. Next time, you might want to try to wear bright red lipstick and some more makeup like me. You'll never be as beautiful, but you would look prettier than that."

Happy rolls her eyes, not looking the least bit offended as Manorama walks up to Arnav.

"Thank you, Arnav. I was worried you would not see through my beautifulness, and I would have to go home. But it would be your loss, because I am much more beautiful than you."

He gives her an incredulous look, but she's already sashaying away, her neon, lime green, and magenta checkered pants blinding the entire set.

"Cut!"

The other girls hold roses in the corner, bright smiles pasted on their faces as they giggle together, looking over their shoulders at Arnav as they walkout.

NK turns to Happy, grasping her by the shoulders and shaking her. This is the fourth time we've shot her leaving, and she has the same stone faced expression every time.

"Happy, try to look a little bit more upset about leaving, please. You're supposed to be crying. Not stone faced."

She gives NK a blank look, her dark, jagged hair falling into her eyes. She's wearing even more makeup than before, and has added a new chain to the belt holding up her dark black jeggings.

He gives me the cue to start the camera again, and Arnav walks up to her, gently guiding her by placing his hand on her lower back.

"I'm sorry, Happy. It's never easy to send anyone home, and I-"

"I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not sorry. Good riddance. This show is stupid."

NK sighs, gritting his teeth.

"Cut! Let's shoot Happy's final statements, now, shall we?"

Happy trudges over to the car, rolling her eyes as I place her where I want her to be, zooming in on her face as she stares at me with blatant disdain.

"Action."

"He bought me lingerie. If he had bought me a whip and a hot, black g-string, I would have been more excited. But he bought me a light pink, matching pair of panties and a bra."

"Cut! Happy, that's not what you're-"

She whips around, giving NK the death glare. He holds up his hands in surrender, and nods to me to continue shooting.

I lift my eyes to the heavens as Happy leaves, muttering curse words underneath her breath.

One down, nine more to go.

-***-

The chubby, rosy cheeked baby coos at me from the bright, blue mat. I smile uncomfortably at her as she scoots across the mat towards a particularly colorful toy, her eyes wide with excitement.

"God, babies are tough work."

Payal plops down beside me on the worn couch, wiping the spit up off her gray tshirt and smiling up at me tiredly.

"She's uh... getting big."

Payal smiles brightly, her entire face lighting up as she reached down to pick up baby Piya. Piya giggles, stuffing an entire fist into her mouth and releasing a string of drool down her chin. I force a smile on my face and scooch backwards.

"She is, isn't she? My little Piya's getting to be a big girl now!"

She continues to giggle with Piya, and I desperately try to tame the frustration bubbling in my stomach. As an unwed woman without a child, I'm hardly allowed to get irritated over my best friend cooing over her adorable baby.

But I do.

She finally rocks Piya to sleep, and turns a gentle smile towards me as she holds the baby in her arms, cradling her to her chest.

"I heard Arnav Singh Raizada is the new Bachelor."

Of course, that's the first thing she asks. I avert my eyes at the wicked grin on her face, bracing for a reminiscing session of memories I don't want to remember.

"He is."

"And...?"

"And?"

"Come on, Khushi! There has to be something more to the story. You crushed on him for all four years of high school."

"I didn't crush. I admired his... Talent."

"At looking sexy?"

"You're married!"

"So?"

She winks saucily, adjusting Piya in her arms as she shifts to face me better.

"There's nothing to tell, Payal. We barely get along as it is."

My phone beeps with a text, and I glance down to see Arnav's name written neatly across the screen, with "Where are we meeting tonight? ;)" just underneath it.

I look up, and Payal gives me a knowing look. I know she's seen the text, and I mentally berate Arnav's terrible timing.

"Nothing, you said?"

"It's a business dinner. I'm... coaching him. On the girls."

"Are you planning on demonstrating this too?"

She winks, and I shoot her a half hearted glare.

"Pregnancy has made you hormonal. And horny."

Just then, her phone lights up with Akash's face, the husky voice of crooning into the air. A bashful smile overtakes her face, and she gently hands Piya to me, ignoring my protests as she leaves to take the call.

I hold her uncomfortably, unsure of how I should hold this sleeping, tiny creature. Her dark eyelashes rest against her cheeks, and she has tufts of hair flying out from her head. Her hands are small, with even smaller fingers that press against my chest as she snuggles into me.

She smells of the familiar, comforting baby smell, and I find myself inhaling deeply as I begin to hum softly underneath my breath, rocking her gently in time with the rhythm.

"Oh my god, thank you so much! I'm sorry, I had to take that- you know Akash's mom can be a little... difficult."

Payal whisks her daughter out of my arms, and I realize that I'm almost unwilling to let her go.

After Payal leaves my apartment, I sink into the couch, the smell of baby powder lingering on my hands.

-***-

I push open the door to my parents house and hear hushed whispering. It's the first time I've been back since the disastrous party, and I'm still hurting from that night.

My simple black dress feels too tight as I step gingerly into my childhood home in heels, slipping them off gently and testing them at the door.

I hear my mother's soft tones, gently washing over my father's stern, gruff voice. I pause in the hallway for a minute, overwhelmed by memories of my childhood.

"Garima! Garima, look, Khushi won her fifth grade writing contest!"

"My daughter is an amazing writer. She recently got her poetry published in Cicada, didn't you hear? Here, let me show you!"

"She's multi talented, my Khushi. She wins math bees and writing contests!"

The force of my former relationship with my father hits me with staggering force, and I stumble back against the familiar wall. My eyes burn with unshed tears, and I brush at them hastily, not willing to let them spill over,

Another memory makes its way to the front of my mind, but this time, it reflects the current state.

"Bauji, look! I got into NYU's film school on a full scholarship!"

"Film school? Beta, I thought you were going to be a doctor. Or an engineer."

"No Bauji, I like science but... I love writing more."

"Writing? Ha, just because you won a few writing contests here and there, you think you can make your living as a writer? That's not how the world works, Khushi. Life isn't fair."

I recall the tears that streamed down my face that day, and the slamming of the doors that ended up reflecting upon my relationship with my father as well. The doors to a happy father-daughter relationship closed the day I accepted NYU's offer, and it hasn't been the same since.

"... She just doesn't understand, Garima. She's not going to make it. It's hard out there, can't she see? She's not... She can't. She has to get married."

I can hear the disapproving, pessimistic tone in my father's voice as I push open the door, my anger knowing no bounds. The sting of the betrayal is stronger than ever, and I shake as I stand in front of my shocked parents.

"Khushi, bitiya, you came?"

"I am not going to get married. I don't care what you do, what you say, or whether or not you believe in me. I'm an independent woman, and I can hold my own in "this world" you keep talking about. I don't have to listen to you tell me how I will be a failure. Our relationship is over."

I ignore my mother's harrowed pleas and sweep out of the room, my throat tightening painfully as I try to contain my tears.

I open the door to walk right into the man I'm supposed to meet in five minutes. I can hear my mother crying behind the door, begging me to come back, and my father's cold indifference.

One look into his face, and I immediately know that he has heard. Everything.