Chapter 5
Five
HARSH
Harsh woke the next morning with the hangover to end all hangovers. He groaned into his pillow, burying his aching head deeper into the soft mound of it. The high of his successful premiere was marred by the vitriol of Raashi’s outburst. But he’d put it out of his mind and worked to ensure no one at the party remembered it either by the end of the evening. If there was one thing Harsh was good at, it was deflecting attention with charm.
His alarm went off beside the bed and he groaned again. He had a meeting with one of the top producers in the industry in an hour to hear his script for a new movie. Unlike with the Hulk Version 2.0 script, this was one that Harsh was genuinely interested in. It was a stark departure from his usual coming of age romantic comedies and he was itching to sink his teeth into a role with meat.
He forced himself out of bed and into the shower, making a mental note to fit in a gym session later in the evening. He’d slept through his morning routine. A boiling hot shower later, he emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist and another one slung around his neck to find his sister and sister-in-law camped out on his bed.
He glanced from one to the other, taking a wary step toward his cupboard. “Is this an intervention? Because if it is, I need coffee.”
“No.” Priyanka popped an almond into her mouth and chewed, watching him like an inquisitive squirrel with a nut in her mouth. “We just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Harsh paused, a white shirt from his arsenal of white shirts in his hand. “Why?” he asked baldly.
“You’ve seemed a little…” Veda trailed off before adding. “Off.”
“Off?” Harsh echoed, shrugging into his shirt and buttoning it up. “Off how? Off my rocker? Off in the head? Off like a spoilt fruit?”
“Just not yourself,” Veda interjected before he could keep coming up with options. “And also,” she flushed. “I’m sorry about Raashi’s behaviour last night.”
“It’s okay,” he said automatically. It wasn’t like it was anything new with Raashi. But then, he reflected, she only seemed to have that reaction to him. And he to her. “And you don’t need to be sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have brought her,” Veda insisted. “I know the two of you don’t get along and I shouldn’t have forced the issue. I just-“
Harsh wandered into the bathroom to pull on his underwear and ripped jeans. “You just?” he called out, curiosity getting the better of him.
“I just wanted two people I loved to get along,” Veda answered, sounding defeated. “Don’t worry. I won’t do it again.”
He met his horrified gaze in the mirror. Raashi and he would never get along. The only emotion she incited in him was rage and that was no foundation for any kind of friendship.
He ran a brush through his hair, making a note to see his stylist for a trim soon and left the bathroom, snagging one of his fifty odd sunglasses on the way.
“It’s fine,” he told Veda, giving her a quick one-armed hug. “Don’t stress about it. Is there anything else?” he asked. “Because I need to leave for a narration.”
“Yes.” Priyanka offered him her little pouch of almonds.
He shook his head at her. “What?”
“We’ve been asked to speak to you about…” She seemed to be choking a little on her words.
“About?” Harsh raised an eyebrow at her.
Priyanka opened and shut her mouth like a goldfish a few times, but no sound came out of it. Harsh glanced at Veda who looked down at her hands like she’d never seen them before.
“Settling down,” Priyanka spat out finally.
Settling….Oh no! No! No! No!
“No,” he said flatly. He grabbed his wallet and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans.
Priyanka glared at him.
He pointed a finger at the door. “Out,” he said. “Both of you.”
Veda got up with alacrity, power walking towards the door. Priyanka grumbled a little but got to her feet.
“What do I tell the parents?” she asked him.
“I don’t care.”
“They asked me to find out if you were open to meeting girls,” Priyanka argued. “I have to tell them something. If it’s no, then why? Are you seeing someone?”
He put a hand between her shoulder blades and propelled her towards the door, depositing her on the other side of the threshold. “Out!”
“I need an answer to give them!” she wailed.
“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” he informed her, shutting the door in her face. Blessed silence descended on the room.
His phone rang but he silenced it, not bothering to glance at the display. Shoving it into another pocket, he yanked the door open again. Thankfully, no one was loitering in the hallway waiting to ambush him.
He marched through the house, not looking up from his feet so he didn’t accidentally make eye contact with anyone. He heard his mother call out to him but pretended he was busy with his phone and slunk out of the front door, his security following. His favourite car, the Lamborghini, was parked right in front, waiting for him. He slide into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the driveway, the Innova with his security following closely behind.
A few minutes later, he was at his producer’s house. He was escorted into the man’s home office, and he touched the older man’s feet before settling into the chair across from him. Surrounded by gilt and leather, the study was a rather overpowering space.
“Whiskey?” Nanda Garu asked him.
Harsh grinned, declining with a shake of his head. It was ten in the morning, a bit early even for him.
“Good.” The decanter clanked as the other man replaced it without opening it. “That was a test.”
Intrigued, Harsh waited for him to continue.
“This movie is my magnum opus, Harsh.” Nanda Garu leaned forward, his fingers steepling in front of his face. “I won’t allow anything to go wrong with it and that includes recklessness and bad behaviour from my leads. This movie is a dream, my dream.”
“Why don’t you tell me everything?” Harsh invited. “All I know is that it is a family drama. We can discuss the details after I’ve heard the narration.”
Nanda Garu nodded, waving the scriptwriter who was hovering in the background forward. “Tell him the story.”
And Harsh listened to the narration of a lifetime. Excitement surged through him at the depth of the double role being offered to him. If he could nail this, both the good and the bad avatar, his career would leapfrog into the stratosphere. The last line was narrated and quiet descended on the room.
“You want it?” Nanda Garu asked, a small smile on his face.
“I do,” Harsh confirmed. More than he’d wanted anything in the recent future.
“Then it’s yours,” he said. “But on one condition.”
Of course there was a condition, Harsh thought resignedly. There was always a condition.
Nanda Garu tapped one long finger against the crystal top of the decanter. “You need to clean up your image. The alcohol, the wild parties, the women…all of it must go.”
Harsh stared at him.
“The hero of my movie is the new world equivalent of Lord Ram himself. Which means for you to sell that dream to people, you will need to live it too.”
Harsh still stared, not saying a word, his mind whirling in a million different directions.
“It’s non-negotiable, Harsh.” It was a quiet comment that landed with the weight of a grenade in the room. “The debauchery will have to stop. At least publicly. You can be a social drinker and have a woman…just one. Are you dating someone?” he asked curiously.
Second person to ask him that today, Harsh thought with a mental groan. “No Sir.”
“Now might be a good time for it,” Nanda Garu smiled. “What’s more wholesome than new love?”
Harsh could think of several things that were, but he kept it to himself. He wanted this role so badly that he could almost taste it. If that meant he needed to lie low on the social scene for some time, then he would.
No biggie.