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The sudden shift in the bratty boy's behaviour had me puzzled. Was he genuinely afraid of the machines, or was he just pretending to be scared? I knew he was mischievous, but this level of apprehension was unexpected.
The more he fidgeted and tried to get away from the medical equipment, the more I realized that his fear was real. It didn't bring the satisfaction I expected. Normally, I'd be amused by his mischief, but seeing him genuinely scared hit differently.
I was already frustrated with the whole situation. It seemed I had no choice but to call my brother, Bhaiya, for help. Thankfully, he picked up within a minute, but as soon as I explained the problem, he flatly refused to help. Typical Bhaiya.
"I'll join the Image training classes you wanted me to join," I offered before he could hang up. His sudden silence made me think he didn't believe me.
"You can record the call if you want, I promise I won't back out or pull any tricks," I reassured him.
"Fine, but who is it?" he asked, sounding skeptical. I heard him dialing on his other phone—probably calling a doctor or someone to help.
"It's the bratty boy, Bhaiya," I replied.
"Bhaiya, I can explain. I owe him, and they're really pressuring him. Bhaiya, please help me," I pleaded, knowing he might refuse once he knew it was for the kiddo.
"Fine, hand the phone to the doctor who's there. I'll call Dr. Sharma too," he sighed.
"Thanks, Bhaiya" I said as I walked toward the bratty boy and handed the phone to the doctor. The doctor took the phone, and I could see the stress lines appearing on his forehead. This was going to be complicated, but I knew Bhaiya would take care of it, especially after my promise.
Bhaiya always wanted me to join his high-end parties as a proper heiress, but I was anything but refined. I was loud, fun-loving, and never afraid to make a scene. My parents never cared about my lack of poise, but Bhaiya did.
Etiquette classes were his way of grooming me into high society, a world I didn't belong in. I liked to have fun, but he wanted me to fit in with the 'old money' crowd, which meant being careful with my words, actions, and body language. I never thought I'd agree to join those classes, but here I was, willing to do anything to help the bratty boy.
Standing by the bratty boy's side, I couldn't help but wonder why I was going to such lengths for someone I normally couldn't stand. Sure, I was scared when he panicked, but going to this length for someone I didn't even like? I wasn't the kind of person who went out of my way for others, even people I cared about, let alone someone I resented. I needed to stop listening to Samayara's talks before it got me into trouble. Being this nice thing wasn't really my style.
I sighed when I saw the bratty boy looking all jittery, and I asked the hospital staff to get him some water while Bhaiya sorted things out. The nurse handed him a glass, and he gulped it down quickly.
