"You've pushed me away from the start, and I let you. Kept your distance from me and I let you. Now when you've finally come to terms with your feelings, you're letting me go without a fight?!"
Muaaz, a talented yet struggling architect based in Lo...
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"Tori main saare hi bandhan zamane ke re, torongi na mein waada."
This line of the song has been playing for the last 10 minutes or so because Shef and Ruby are prepping for yet another reel right in front of my cabin.
"Aadha hissa mere to dil ki kahani ka tu, piya main baki aadha." I sing along, humming to myself as I watch them attempting the steps a couple of times and still not being able to pull it off.
Huh. Noobs. All of them.
I put my head down and try and get some work done only to look at them struggle a few moments later. With a sigh, I push to my feet and exit my cabin.
"What's up?" I ask, leaning on the glass wall with my arms crossed.
"Shef is making me shoot this reel and I don't want to." Ruby conplains.
"But I want to! Tumako step karne nahi aara to nahi shoot karna hai bolre tum, Ruby." These two can be a real pain in the ass sometimes, fighting like teenage sisters over the same guy they have a crush on, I tell you.
"Nahi karna hai to nahi karna hai bolta na insaan."
"Insaan ki baat alag hai," Shefali says, raising a hand in the air. "tumhari baat alag hai."
"Shef, tum--"
"Acha, stop it." I clap my hands, putting an end to their banter. "I'll do it with you, Shef."
Her face lights up like a Christmas tree and she squeals like a child. "Perfect! So this is the step--"
"I know, I know. I can still pull it off if you wake me from deep sleep."
And that was not a lie.
Ruby steps back, giving us the space we need to do our thing.
"Rolling,"
With our backs facing the camera, I wait for the cue, anticipating the moment when the music will flood my ears. As soon as the first notes reach me, my body reacts instinctively, the familiar choreography etched into my muscles. I throw my arm to the right, then to the left, moving with the rhythm. Twirling around gracefully, just as the step requires, I suddenly collide with a man's chest.
"Woahh!" I exclaim, startled.
It's the same chest I'd accidentally laid my hands on the other day—soft, creamy, and unexpectedly cool under my fingers. The familiarity sends a jolt through me, my heart skipping a beat.
"Careful, Ms. Noor," Mr. Angrez says, his voice a low murmur that only I can hear. The lights failing from the ceiling catch his profile, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. He looks down at me with that glint in his eyes, a secretive sparkle that makes me feel like we're sharing something private, something the rest of the world isn't privy to. His faint smile is both reassuring and mischievous, a blend that makes my pulse quicken.
