Billboard Lovers

Chapter 3: A Tempting Prospect

There were thousands of Iyers around the world, plenty at Savant High, yet it had to be his father. Mayank Vikrant Iyer. How could she have missed to notice?

In her defence, they were hardly alike. Unlike his father's large and bold features, Mayank's profile seemed softer, as if God's sculptor took their sweet time to fillet the tips with a chisel. Why should a boy have such pretty features?

"Now if you put two and two together, you'd understand that he didn't have to do much. He saw you at our Annual Day function. In fact, he also recalls your performance from three years ago."

Aashna raises a brow. The punished hands were almost beside their ears now.

"I know," he sighs, "but don't get all high and mighty. He claimed that you sucked in seventh grade and that it took you three years to become bearable."

Aashna's hands were so close to Mayank's face, it itched her to smack him as well. She knew she was not the best at the art, and the teachers had to put up with her because there were not enough takers for acting. It was not, however, a competition or a graded task.

"The majority of you don't have the spine to perform before your classmates, let alone go up on the stage," she smirks. "That's why y'all love to hide doing group activities. You aren't the first to tell me I stink, yet I keep doing it anyway. And guess what, I am happier and learning better than any of you are."

That seemed to have shut down Mayank. This was the first time she had spoken so many words to him. He wondered if she would stop talking altogether if he asked her to learn to take a joke.

He remembered their seventh-grade annual day auditions for actors and how she was one of the only two among thirty girls who wished to act, so there were no auditions. He always thought she was deep down the shyness hole, only ever popping out when someone made her angry. The entire class was shocked to see their introverted classmate go up on stage. As much as they teased their class monitor behind her back, they hated it when the audience laughed at her.

"Hands up," Mayank whispers. The section head was out on a round again.

They stood in silence for a while, reminiscing. Eighth grade, and they had been put in the same class again. Aashna was horrifically miscast for the role of a mother when she had the most childlike gleam in the class. All because there were no takers for the role. Vikrant had a lot to say at the sight of her crying on her way to the parking lot after the show. She should be more self-aware and give up, he had laughed, and Mayank heard his mother mumble how brutal it was to talk about a child like that.

September of this year, and she was again on stage.

What metal was she made of? Mayank pondered from backstage as she dropped down in a dramatic emotional scene. Radha is informed of Krishna's departure from Vrindavan. The audience did not laugh. She was still lacking, however, Mayank could see an aura more radiant than the stage lights.

Walking past him backstage, Aashna giggled at the sight of her teacher jostling through the crowd to shake her by the shoulders. "I knew you could do it," her teacher gleamed. Mayank, too, had a lot to say but she seemed to have an entire class waiting to tell her every possible synonym of, "Aashna Menon, you are amazing."

There were tens of performances, each with a different cast, yet Aashna's one-minute stage time each year seemed to be something Vikrant never forgot. Mayank smirks to himself.

"Maybe that's what he appreciates," he says after the disciplinary police leaves," Your confidence. Aura. "

Aashna didn't know how to reply to the unsolicited praise.

"Look. I'm trusting that your father must have deleted my photos. If he wants to apologize, let him do it himself. Actually, forget the apology. I'm fine. I don't want to meet anyone."

She gives up fighting her painful arms. Mayank follows suit. They stand in silence for a while, waiting for the other to address the elephant in the room. Time was ticking by, and Aashna did not want to indulge in this conversation ever again. Suddenly, anything that Mayank did, annoyed her. His breathing was too loud, his body, more restless than a three-year-old, and his fabric conditioner, excessively aromatic.

"I didn't inform the police about it. Not even Mom and Dad," she pauses, waiting for his expression to change, but he remains muddled. "So just ask him to stay away from me, and let's conclude this here."

"Why wouldn't you inform them about something like that? What he did was alarmingly wrong, and when I saw you slap him... I thought you were on the right path."

"You knew he was stalking me."

"No, I didn't. I was leaving the ice cream parlor across the road when I saw how he grabbed your hand. He had asked me basic stuff about you, but I wasn't aware of the pictures or what was going on in his mind."

"Your father would go to jail."

"He deserves much worse," Mayank shrugs his shoulders.

Aashna couldn't tell what kind of reverse psychology the boy was using, but it was definitely working. The section head screamed something and all the students began dispersing.

"But you..."he turns away from her. "You deserve to be on one of those," he says, jerking his jaw towards the glass wall ahead of them.

Across the street, guarded by the Gulmohar trees on either side, a charming Mary Anne Varghese held her fingertips to her lips, illuminating the black billboard with her smile.

"COMING SOON," it said.

The rest of the school day went by like a breeze. Like the Loo breeze. Fast but sweltering for a restless Aashna. She kept reciting the exact sequence of events she would tell her Mom, momentarily pausing to wonder what was the purpose of this angst. She never did anything wrong. It was the man. The full-grown adult.

Nor did she ever dream of becoming an actress. She had not figured out her aspirations so far. What is a dream anyway? Doing something you enjoy doing?

The door bell rings and Aashna hears Lavanya greet Mom.

It shouldn't hurt to try, right? You learn something from every mission. Even the ones you fail.

She bites her lips raw, wondering if her parents would even say yes.

I'm just trying to learn something new, not make a whole career out of it, she justifies to herself. I'll obviously get a degree and settle with a more secure job.

Then, with a shudder, she nips this very flower of ambition she grew. They'll definitely think Vikrant is a creep and shut this case close.

Duh?Because Vikrant is a creep.

Isn't it a matter of perspective? From Vikrant's point of view, he was only ensuring the producer's decision before wasting my time.

"Hey, sweety! How was your day?" asks Vidya, Aashna's mom, beamingly, as she leans against the doorframe.

Here goes nothing.

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