Contractually Mine (Mine Series, Book 1)

Chapter 2: Dreamers rarely survive

Anmay's POV

"Abey Kumbhkarn ki aulad, uth ja!" I heard Jai yell before a splash of cold water hit my face. I groaned, sitting up. The sunlight entered the room through a crack in the metal sheets, bathing it in an ethereal glow. I sighed and looked at a pissed-off Jai. He was the first friend I made when I came to Mumbai 6 years ago as a starry-eyed 21-year-old, my manager/roommate/all-around-devdoot. The guy who got me both acting gigs, as well as stable small-time jobs until I make it big as an actor. Yes, I know it's highly optimistic to say that in a city crawling with people, but I have faith in myself. Until then, waitressing will have to do. Speaking of which,

"You bastard, you have an audition today!"

Jai's voice rang out. That woke me up faster than anything else. I quickly got up, getting ready as Jai dived through my pile of clothes, judging me hard enough to make KJo proud.

"Shit, bhai, why didn't you wake me up earlier?" I scream, "You know today's the audition for Pant, freaking Pant, right?"

"I have been trying to wake you for the past 30 minutes, you buffoon." He threw a pair of vests and boxers that landed straight on my face.

"Hey! Treat me nice, or I won't remember you when I become a big star!"

"Become a big star first, and then we'll talk!"

I shut the curtain to the bathroom in his face.

--------------------------------------------------------------

15 minutes later

I walk out of the bathroom, running a hand through my wet hair. I look at myself in the mirror, and goddamn, I looked good. I twirl around, assessing myself. An average, wheaty complexion, 5 feet 10 inches of pure muscle, and a damn fine ass. I would surely make it big. I mean, I had a body ladies would die for. One of these days, I was going to get my breakthrough. A YRF or Dharma love story, with me as a hero and some hot star kid as my partner. People would go crazy over us, and I'd be a beloved figure. More blockbusters would follow, and I'd make enough to own a home at Marine Drive. Maybe even land a hot wife-

Jai smacking my head pulled me back to reality. He was utterly pissed.

"Lost in your head again, pretty boy?"

"I mean, look at me." I flaunt, "All I need is a good break. I will one day rule over Mumbai's heart, you hear me?"

Jai sighed, unimpressed." Now remember what I told you. Be calm, collected, and focused. Don't go daydreaming around. Remember your lines and ace it." He muttered, passing me a fresh set of clothes. "And the last thing, keep Mira in mind, okay? All that you're doing is for her good." I nodded, and sighed, getting ready.

'All for Mira.'

--------------------------------------------------------------

15 minutes later

I was already at Mahim Jn (living in Dharavi did have its perks), boarding the classic Churchgate local. Luck was on my side it seemed, as I managed to land a seat (4th seat but still). I looked out the window as I daydreamed about my life.

"So, son, where do you work, eh?" The nice, older gentleman next to me asked.

"Oh no, chacha, I am going for an audition. For a movie." I grin at him.

"Auditions? Do those still exist? I thought everyone was hired based on their Instagram followers nowadays. Humare zamane mein-"

"Arey Chacha, the guy I'm going to audition for is not like this. He has an eye for raw talent. A true director. His name is Pant, J. B. Pant. Naam toh suna hi hoga."

"Never heard of him."

I stare at the guy, dumbfounded, before I launch into what Jai calls my 'J.B. Pant fan-club initiation speech'.

"Chacha, he's the best film director of this century. He doesn't make 5 films in a year with half-hearted attention. He makes one every 5-7 years, and that too with new, raw talent. He is like a miner, bringing diamonds out of a coal mine."

"And how many blockbusters has this guy made?" He asks, unimpressed.

"None yet, because he hasn't met me. I swear, the moment he casts me, Laxmi Mata is going to shine on both of us. My looks, his skills are going to rock the film-making industry-"

"Next station- Andheri" The lady over the intercom beeps, pulling me out of my thoughts. I hurriedly get down, muttering under my breath. 'What kind of stupid people live in this city?'

I grab a taxi to the office of the famous film director, J.B. Pant. Mr. Pant has been my idol since I saw his hit blockbuster, "Khada hoon aaj bhi yahi". While it wasn't a blockbuster, it inspired me to pursue acting as a career approach. And I was hoping, praying that he would be the one to give me my big break.

I spot the post, tall building, with my heart beating frantically in my chest, and I can feel the sweat on my forehead. 'Get it together, Anmay. The makeup is expensive.' I mentally scold myself, wiping the excess sweat off my brow. Moments later, the doors open and I walk into the office of J. B. Pant himself. It's extremely difficult to keep myself from flat-out screaming. But I'm a bit surprised to see no one there. I straighten my clothes as I walk into the building, giving the receptionist my most charming smile,

"Hello, ma'am. Myself Anmay Kohli, and I'm here for the auditions with Mr. Pant." I say coolly, sliding my portfolio over to her. She looks unimpressed as she commands, "Sign this paper first." I do, and she takes it from me, before pointing to the lift, "3rd floor, left-hand side cabin. Go on ahead."

I huff, straightening myself up. I mutter a 'thank-you', before getting on the lift and pressing the buttons. I reach my destination, half expecting a crowd of wannabe actors like me, only to be met with silence. My heart leaps up to my throat. 'What if I had been late, and someone else already got the role?' I wonder as I knock on the door.

"Come in." I hear the gruff voice, and as soon as I open the door, I see the man himself, in all his glory.

"Mr Pant, I'm Anmay Kohli, here for the role-"

"The role? What role?"

I gawked at him. "Sir, the role in your new film, 'Kaafir'?"

"Ah, right. But I have to inform you, that I already have a name in mind for it-" he began, and my heart dropped. This couldn't be happening. I could feel the panic rising. I had been late, and it had cost me the opportunity of a lifetime-

"-but, if you prove it to me that you can do better, I might reconsider." He finished, spreading his legs apart in the chair. This was my chance, my shot.

"Oh, of course, sir." I began, before listing out my qualifications as a theatre actor back in my small town. His face slowly contorted into confusion, then rage.

"Ah Ah, boy. That's not what I meant." He mutters, sighing. "I will give you the role in this, as well as the next film of mine if you give me what I want." He said, pointing over to his groin.

"Well, sir, what do you want?" I shrug, confused. Was his stomach upset? Did he need me to buy medicines?"

I want you to give me head, you idiot!" He yelled.

"Head? What head? Chicken, Goat?" I answer.

"You idiot! I mean suck me off!"

"Suck you off? Hein?"'

It was when he tried to take his pants off that it hit me. He wanted sex in return. Bile rose to my throat. "I can't do that, sir," I mutter, horrified.

"Well, there are many out there who will give me that, and more for a role." He huffed in annoyance. "If not, then get the hell out of my office. Stupid newbies, kuch aata bhi hai inhe?"

I ran out, scared, heartbroken, and sick to my stomach. The receptionist stopped me before I could make it out the front door.

"Remember, boy. Whatever happened in that room, stays in that room, or else-" She shows me the page I had signed on when I entered, "-we will sue you for more than what this body of yours is worth. Am I clear?"

I nod, before running out the door.