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I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my room, adjusting the emerald green gown that hugged my curves perfectly. The fabric shimmered under the soft light, and I felt a mix of excitement and dread wash over me. My mother, Sonakshi Roy Chowdhary, was a renowned actress, and tonight’s event was one of those high-profile parties where everyone would be watching—not just for the glitz and glamour, but for the latest gossip.
The off-shoulder design of my dress accentuated my collarbones, and I paired it with a delicate silver necklace featuring a single emerald that matched the gown. My hair cascaded in soft waves down my back, and I opted for subtle makeup—just enough to highlight my features without overshadowing my natural beauty. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
✧
As I stepped out of my Porsche, the flashing lights of the paparazzi hit me like a wave. Cameras clicked incessantly, capturing every moment as I emerged alongside my parents. My heart raced, a mix of anxiety and frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
I adjusted my emerald gown, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing down on me. My mother, Sonakshi, smiled brightly for the cameras, her charisma undeniable, while my father stood tall beside her, projecting an air of authority. I forced a smile, but inside, I felt trapped in this world where image mattered more than my own dreams. The flashes blinded me momentarily, but I pushed through, determined to find my voice amidst the chaos.
The glitzy ballroom of the hotel was alive with laughter and chatter, the kind that echoed off the marble floors and crystal chandeliers. I stood at the entrance, my heart sinking as I scanned the crowd. Everyone was dressed to impress, and I felt like a fish out of water. My mother, Sonakshi Roy Chowdhary, was already the centre of attention, her radiant smile captivating everyone around her.
"Tara! Come here!" she called, waving me over with that familiar enthusiasm that always made my skin crawl in these situations.
I forced a smile and walked toward her, feeling like a puppet on strings. My father, Aditya Roy Chowdhary, stood beside her, his presence commanding and authoritative as always.
"You look beautiful," he said, his eyes glinting with pride. But I knew what they really cared about: reputation.
As I mingled with the guests—most of whom were either actors or directors—I spotted Atharv across the room. He was deep in conversation with his parents, Vivek and Shakuntala Shekhawat. Like mine, their family name held weight in this industry.He looked stunning in his sleek black tuxedo, tailored to perfection. The crisp white shirt underneath and classic black bow tie completed his look. His dark hair was styled neatly back, revealing sharp cheekbones and those intense hazel eyes that sparkled with mischief. He was everything a son of famous actors should be—charming, confident, and utterly infuriating.
"Can you believe our kids are here?" Shakuntala said to my mother, her voice dripping with faux excitement. "They should be grateful for these opportunities!"
