TANGLED -overprotective famous brothers and crazy life

Jinxed?

 The pic? Aishwarya Rai. thank  you so muck for the special appearance in my story. disclaimer:i have nothing against her!! better be cleared now. enjoy this one!

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ALISHA’S POV

“No! I don’t want to eat. I’m not hungry, just a little tired.” I told my cook for the hundredth time. I was sitting on the couch, flipping through random channels on the huge television. I never get how I always find a bigger and better TV when I come to visit my family. Guess I’ll find out soon, since I’m going to be staying here for a long time now.

“Exactly. You’re tired, because your body is out of fuel. Eat, please?”  Salman said as he hopped beside me, pulling me closer.

“But today is junk food day! And all I get is some veggies. Oh, so not fair. And besides I wouldn’t have eaten even if you gave me some pizza. I. Don’t. Want. To. Eat. Period.” I replied, perhaps a little too rudely. I know I did sound like a spoiled little rich brat right now, but I wasn’t.

Ok, scratch that. I was pampered and spoiled, but I was grateful for everything I had. I normally didn’t whine and cry for things. Because I was aware that there are people much more unfortunate, needy and poor.

I was being super annoying right now because I was tired, but it was only evening now. And I wanted to wait till my friends on the other end of the world woke up and got ready so I could talk to them. Stupid time differences.

“Ok, junk food day? We’ll make up for it. And veggies? Everyone has to eat it today.” Salman spoke, bringing a halt on my train of thoughts.

“Fine.” I said, grabbing my plate and eating, or just gulped the stuff. If they were fruits, I would have been the happiest person. But they were vegetables- Cabbage, broccoli, the healthy stuff. I like stuff like oranges, melon, apple etc. not this. Ok, I’m going to stop my mini rant about food now.

As I swallowed on the food, I stumbled across a news channel. Any guesses what their headlines consisted of? That’s right, us. I stopped and concentrated on the news.

“Today morning, the Dock yard locality witnessed a historic event in the show biz industry. Just weeks after attack on Movie debutant, Ray’s father, another attack took place on none other than the Indian and international superstar- Salman khan. He looked healthy and out of immediate danger when he left the hospital at late afternoon with his sister- who was also present during the shooting. But one reporter is…” she continued to talk, as I watched. The scene replayed itself in front of my eyes. I shook it out of my head before it overwhelmed me.

Just as I was about to change the channel, a person said, “All of this has happened due to that little girl.  She is jinxed. She broke my family apart. I wonder how a child can be so evil, such a bad omen.” I just stared at the screen. The person who said that was none other than Salman’s father.

I slowly got up, silent tears glistening on my cheeks. But warm, protective arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me back down. I sat down on Salman’s lap and hid my face into his chest while grabbing his shirt by both hands. He let me cry again, for the second time in the day. After some time, I loosened my grip onto him and let my head rest on the top of his shoulder.

His chest vibrated as he slowly started speaking to me. He told me about how he considered me to be his lucky charm, the exact opposite of what ‘HE’ said. He never called his father dad, or by any title. He just referred to him as HE, and then clenched his jaw. Salman hated his dad, for everything he had done. For neglecting their own kids for days on the end, and then dressing them up for a party, just for the compliments. And it would go back to normal again. For being verbally and emotionally abusive. For never supporting him, and discouraging him instead. For never being a PARENT.