Something About Us
Hey All, starting a new story. It is a kind of reboot or version 2 of the story Something About You. Hope you will enjoy it and shower the story with your love. Also if you lie the story please share it with your Friends
Character Intro:
1. **Maan's Character**:
- Maan is a rich industrialist, an eccentric genius, innovator, and investor with a high IQ.
- He is highly functional at work but indulges in drinking outside of it. - Maan has dark humor, and people are often afraid of his aura.
- He has a complicated relationship with his family, who tolerate him due to his genius.
2. **Geet's Character**:
- Geet comes from a conservative background, dreaming of a acting career but lacking resources.
- She tries to break into acting and modeling, facing struggles due to nepotism.
- Geet is strong-willed and wants to avoid an abusive and patriarchal life. - She has a caring nature, which is expressed through her actions rather than words.
Part 1
The party buzzed with champagne flutes clinking and muted laughter drifting through the room. Geet had slipped in, her nerves on edge, but her exterior flawless. She’d spent hours perfecting her appearance — hair falling in soft waves, a dress that clung just enough to hint but not reveal. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for opportunity amidst the wealthy crowd.
She spotted him at the bar. Alone, swirling amber liquid in his glass with a detached look that made him stand out from the loud conversations around him. He didn’t belong here either, she could sense it. She mistook his aura for that of a disillusioned rich kid, perhaps someone who could be played, like her friend had suggested. This was her chance.
With a deep breath, she approached, her heart pounding beneath the surface but her face composed. She smiled as she slid onto the stool beside him.
"Can I get a drink?" she asked, her voice sultry, leaning closer to catch his attention.
Maan didn’t look at her immediately. He took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the taste as though he had all the time in the world. When he finally did glance at her, it wasn’t the glance she expected — not the usual appraisal, not the predictable approval. His eyes, dark and sharp, seemed to dissect her in seconds.
"You already have mine," he said, pushing his half-finished drink toward her. His smirk was faint, but it was there, hidden beneath his disinterest.
Geet blinked, not expecting his nonchalance. She laughed softly, recovering quickly, sliding her fingers around the glass and bringing it to her lips. "Generous," she teased, locking her gaze onto his, testing the waters.
"Not really," Maan shrugged, leaning back, eyes never leaving hers. "But you seem… persistent."
Geet was taken aback, but only for a second. She was used to playing roles, used to using her beauty as leverage. She leaned in a little closer, letting her perfume waft between them. "You have no idea how persistent I can be."
Maan’s lips twitched into something that was almost a smile. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by her efforts. He could tell she was playing a part, but it intrigued him. Most people cowered or bored him within minutes, but this girl—her confidence, her desperation masked behind her charm—it piqued his curiosity.
They exchanged barbs, both circling one another like predators testing their strength. But as the night wore on, something unspoken passed between them, a tension simmering beneath their words. Geet tried to seduce him with all the skills she had honed from her acting. But Maan? He wasn’t fooled. He saw through her but played along, entertained by the charade. As the evening came to an end, she didn’t expect the sudden shift in the air.
"You're wasting time on me," he murmured, standing close enough now that the space between them became electric. "But... I might enjoy seeing where this goes."
Before Geet could respond, his hand slid to the back of her neck with a gentleness that caught her off guard. Her breath hitched as he pulled her in, his lips brushing hers. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was something deeper, pulling her into a moment that suspended time. His control, his confidence, and the way he took command of her space made her head spin. She had never been kissed like this—never felt anything like it.
For Maan, it was just as unexpected. He hadn’t meant to kiss her. But something about her—a vulnerability masked with layers of determination—called out to him. He usually played people like chess pieces, but in that moment, kissing her felt different. Real.
The kiss lingered longer than either anticipated, leaving both breathless when they finally pulled away.
Geet's eyes widened, her lips parted in shock. This wasn't part of the plan, this wasn’t supposed to matter. But it did. It was her first kiss, and it hit her like a jolt of lightning, leaving a deep impression. She swallowed hard, trying to regain her composure, but her heart was racing. "First time?" he asked, eyes boring into hers, though he already knew the answer.
She looked away, unable to lie convincingly, her cheeks flushing.
Maan smirked, a dark glint in his eyes. He could see her struggle, the layers of pride and insecurity wrapped around her.
"Interesting," he murmured before turning and walking away, leaving her standing there, still reeling.
That kiss would haunt them both for reasons they couldn’t quite explain. Neither knew it then, but this encounter would ripple far beyond this party. It wasn’t just a game anymore.
Geet stood there, stunned, watching Maan walk away. The crowd buzzed around her, but everything felt distant, like she had been pulled out of the world for just a moment. Her lips still tingled from the kiss, and her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might echo through the room.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She had come here with a plan, a mission to seduce her way into an opportunity, a quick route to success. But this? This was something else entirely. She had never been rattled like this before.
Shaking her head, Geet gathered herself, straightened her dress, and tried to act like nothing had happened. Her friend, who had nudged her toward Maan earlier in the evening, shot her a questioning look from across the room. Geet gave a half-hearted smile and turned away. There was no way to explain what had just happened. Not even to herself. ---
The next morning, Geet woke up in her small apartment, the previous night replaying in her head like a fragmented dream. The kiss, his words, the way he had walked away without another glance. She barely remembered how she had made it home.
There was a sinking feeling in her stomach when she checked her messages. Her bank account was lower than it had been the night before, and she realized Maan had somehow tricked her into paying for everything. She sighed, shaking her head in disbelief.
Still, despite the financial sting, she couldn’t get the kiss out of her mind. She wasn’t sure if she should feel angry or embarrassed. Maybe both. But there was something else too—something deeper. That kiss had felt different, not like the shallow interactions she was used to. It had been…real. Intense. And worst of all, unforgettable. ---
Maan, on the other hand, went about his morning routine as if nothing unusual had happened. He walked through his office with the same air of detached focus that made everyone steer clear of him. His team worked efficiently around him, knowing better than to interrupt his train of thought. Maan didn't particularly care about what happened the previous night, at least not outwardly. But there was something about her. Geet.
He found himself curious in a way he hadn't been in a long time. Maybe it was the way she had played along with his games, how she had tried to act like she had control when he knew she didn’t. Maybe it was her awkward reaction when he left her with the bill. Or maybe it was that kiss, the way she melted into him for a brief moment before pulling back.
That afternoon, he sat at his desk, sipping coffee, scrolling through social media and online platforms, digging up what he could about her. It didn’t take long to find her name, her portfolio. She wasn’t a famous actress by any means, just a girl struggling to make it in a cutthroat industry. Small-time ad work, minor roles in TV dramas, background parts that barely paid the bills. He scanned through her reels and audition tapes, and even though her talent was evident, she was stuck in a system that thrived on nepotism and connections.
As he watched a particularly cheesy soap commercial where she played the innocent housewife, Maan chuckled to himself. She was good—almost too good at pretending. But he could see the cracks, the moments when her real self slipped through, when the fire behind her eyes broke through the act.
Maan leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. He wasn’t quite sure why he was still thinking about her, but he knew one thing: she wasn’t like the others. There was something raw about her, something untapped, and that made her dangerous. And dangerous was always interesting.
---
For the next few days, Geet tried to forget about Maan. She threw herself into her work, attending auditions, sending out headshots, and doing everything she could to make her dream a reality. But the city had a way of beating down people like her, people without connections, without money. The constant rejection was suffocating, and every time she opened her wallet, it reminded her of that humiliating night.
Still, late at night, in the quiet of her apartment, she couldn’t help but think about him. About that kiss. About the way he had looked at her, as if he could see right through her, peeling away every layer she had built to protect herself. It wasn’t until a week later that Maan made his next move.
Geet was coming out of an audition, her mood foul after yet another rejection. The casting director had barely even glanced at her before waving her off, choosing someone with a more recognizable face. She was exhausted, frustrated, and ready to give up on the day when a black car pulled up beside her.
The tinted window rolled down, and there he was—Maan, lounging casually in the back seat, wearing that same infuriatingly calm expression.
"Need a ride?" he asked, as if they were old friends. As if the last time they saw each other, he hadn’t tricked her into paying for their entire night out.
Geet stared at him, her pulse quickening. She wanted to tell him to go to hell, to march away and never look back. But something in his eyes stopped her. That same dark curiosity she had seen before, that unspoken challenge. Against her better judgment, she found herself walking towards the car.
She got in.
And just like that, their strange and dangerous game began again.
The door clicked shut behind her as Geet slipped into the back seat of the car. The air inside was thick with tension, a palpable charge humming between them. Maan didn’t say a word at first, his eyes forward, studying the cityscape as the car moved, leaving behind the dullness of her latest failed audition.
Geet glanced at him, trying to steady her breath. She had questions, but she wasn’t sure where to begin. His calm composure, as if he controlled not just the moment but her reactions as well, rattled her. She hated that he made her feel this way—offbalance, unsure of herself. "Why are you here?" she finally asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Maan’s gaze slid to her, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You get in strange men’s cars often?" Geet clenched her jaw. "Only when I’ve already paid their bills."
His chuckle was low, dark, and infuriatingly amused. "Fair enough."
They rode in silence for a while, the city blurring past the windows. Geet’s thoughts raced. Why had she gotten in? What did she expect from this? She had promised herself not to get tangled up in anyone else’s games, but here she was, drawn into Maan’s orbit again.
"I looked you up," Maan said, breaking the silence. His voice was casual, like he was commenting on the weather. Geet blinked, surprised. "What?"
"Your work," he clarified, turning slightly toward her. "The ads, the small parts in dramas. You’re better than most of the nonsense you’re stuck in."
A strange mix of emotions surged through her—pride, surprise, but also anger. Why did it matter to him? He didn’t know her struggles, the way she had clawed her way through auditions, the constant rejections, the endless compromises just to survive in the city. She was used to being judged, used to people seeing only what they wanted to see. But Maan? He had actually taken the time to look her up. That caught her off guard. "Why do you care?" she asked, her tone defensive.
Maan studied her for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. "Curiosity," he said simply. "I like to understand what drives people." Geet shifted uncomfortably. "You could’ve just asked."
"Where’s the fun in that?" He smirked again, leaning back, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing.
She swallowed, trying to keep her composure. This was a game to him, she realized—a game she had unwittingly entered. But she was no stranger to playing roles. If this was how he wanted to play, she’d give as good as she got.
"You think you know me?" she asked, her voice steady now, challenging him. "Because you watched a few ads and scrolled through my resume?"
Maan’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by something sharper, more focused. "I think there’s more to you than that. That’s why I’m here."
Geet raised an eyebrow, unsure how to respond. The truth was, she didn’t know why he was there either. But she wasn’t about to let him think he had the upper hand.
"And what do you plan to do with that knowledge?" she shot back, crossing her arms.
"Use it against me? Mock me?"
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if she had just said something interesting. "Maybe," he said, his voice low. "Or maybe I want to see what you do with it."
The car slowed to a stop, and Geet realized they had arrived at some sleek, high-end restaurant. She hadn’t even noticed where they were going, so caught up in the conversation. The driver opened the door, and Maan gestured for her to step out. She hesitated. "I didn’t agree to dinner."
Maan shrugged. "You didn’t agree to anything." He stepped out of the car, waiting by the door, watching her expectantly.
Geet knew this was another one of his tests, another move in his game. But she wasn’t about to back down now. With a deep breath, she slid out of the car and followed him inside. ---
The restaurant was as luxurious as Geet had expected, with soft lighting, marble floors, and a quiet hum of wealth that made her feel out of place. Maan, of course, fit right in, moving with an ease that came from years of privilege. He led them to a private table, where a waiter immediately appeared to take their orders. "Two scotches," Maan ordered, not bothering to ask if she drank.
Geet watched him, still trying to figure him out. What did he want from her? He could have anyone in this room, anyone in the city, yet here he was, bringing her along as if they were equals, as if she intrigued him. "You’re trying to prove something," Geet said once they were seated.
Maan raised an eyebrow, swirling his drink. "To whom?"
"To yourself," she said, leaning forward slightly. "That you can manipulate people, that you’re in control of every situation." He took a slow sip, his gaze never leaving hers. "And if I am?"
Geet matched his intensity, leaning in closer. "Then you’re just like everyone else.
Playing games because you’re too scared to let people in."
For a moment, Maan said nothing, just stared at her, his face unreadable. Then, to her surprise, he laughed—a genuine, amused laugh that broke the tension.
"Maybe," he admitted, setting his glass down. "But what does that say about you,
Geet? You’re still here, playing the same game."
His words hit hard because they were true. She was still here, despite every instinct telling her to leave, to walk away from whatever dangerous path this was leading down. But something about him, about this, kept her rooted in place. "I’m not like you," she said quietly, her voice laced with uncertainty.
Maan leaned forward, his eyes piercing hers. "You might be more like me than you think."
The words hung in the air, leaving Geet speechless. She didn’t want to believe it, but a small part of her wondered if he was right. There was something dark, something raw, pulling her toward him. Something that terrified her, but also intrigued her.
Maan sat back, watching her reaction, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "Let’s see where this goes." Geet didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. The game had already begun.
As the waiter set down the two glasses of scotch, Geet’s eyes flickered between the amber liquid and Maan, realization dawning on her. "You ordered two for yourself?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Maan smirked, swirling one of the glasses before taking a slow sip. "I don’t assume anything." Geet sighed, pushing the second glass toward him. "I don’t drink."
Maan tilted his head, intrigued by the revelation but not entirely surprised. He shrugged, sliding the second glass closer to him. "Fair enough."
The tension between them shifted again, but Geet felt a small sense of victory. She had drawn a line, even if it was a small one. Maan, however, didn’t seem fazed by her refusal. If anything, it only deepened the strange pull between them, like he was still sizing her up, waiting to see what other surprises she had in store.
As he sipped his scotch, Geet leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but one thing was clear—Maan was unpredictable, and being around him was like walking a tightrope.
The silence between them stretched, filled with unspoken tension. Geet couldn’t help but feel like she was balancing on a razor’s edge, caught between curiosity and caution. She had drawn her line by refusing the drink, but she knew Maan wasn’t one to let things go so easily.
"So," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet. "If you’re not here to mock me or toy with me, what are we doing?"
Maan’s eyes flicked up from his glass, his gaze sharp and calculating. "Maybe I just enjoy your company."
Geet laughed softly, shaking her head. "You don’t seem like the type who ‘enjoys’ anything. Not without a purpose."
His lips curled into that familiar, infuriating smirk. "You’re right. I’m a man of purpose." He leaned forward, his gaze locking onto hers. "And right now, my purpose is to understand you." Geet felt her pulse quicken. "Understand me? What is there to understand?"
"More than you realize," he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. "You walk into a room, pretending you know the game, trying to charm your way into an opportunity. But there’s more behind that smile, isn’t there? More behind those eyes that you don’t show anyone."
Geet’s breath caught in her throat. His words were cutting too close to the truth, and it unnerved her how easily he could see through her. She had spent so long building walls, crafting the perfect mask to survive in a city that wanted to devour her, and yet, in just a few hours, Maan had begun to peel away those layers.
"What makes you think you know me?" she challenged, trying to regain her footing. "You’ve only just met me."
Maan tilted his head slightly, studying her. "You’re not that hard to read, Geet. You’re desperate to escape the life you came from. You want more, but you’re not sure how to get it without losing yourself in the process."
Geet clenched her fists under the table, hating how accurate his words were. But she refused to let him have the upper hand.
"And what about you?" she shot back, leaning in. "You think you’re above everyone else, watching people like pieces on a chessboard. But you’re just as trapped as the rest of us, hiding behind your intellect and your games because you’re scared of feeling anything real."
For a split second, Maan’s expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. But then, just as quickly, the mask was back in place, and he leaned back, that amused smirk returning to his face. "Maybe," he said, nonchalant. "Or maybe I just find people…entertaining."
Geet stared at him, frustration and intrigue warring within her. He was impossible to figure out, and yet she couldn’t walk away. Not yet.
"Why me?" she asked quietly, the question that had been gnawing at her since their first encounter. "You could have anyone. Why are you so interested in me?"
Maan looked at her for a long moment, his gaze softening just slightly. "Because you don’t play by the rules," he said simply. "And neither do I."
The weight of his words hung between them, and for the first time, Geet felt like she was seeing past the facade he had built. There was something in him that resonated with her, something broken but undeniable.
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Maan stood up, tossing back the last of his scotch and motioning for her to follow.
"Let’s get out of here," he said, his tone casual, as if they hadn’t just had a deeply revealing conversation. Geet hesitated for a second before standing up. "Where are we going?"
Maan glanced at her over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "To see if you’re as unpredictable as I think you are."
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