PART I

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Mumbai... city of dreams. Here I am sleeping peacefully in my king size bed forgetting about the world and my work of course. Well let me introduce myself I am Akshat Patel. The heartthrob of millions of girls well not millions but may be thousands. I love my life. I have always dreamt of this perfect life where I am living my dream. Yes my dream of portraying various emotions on screen and then switching on to my real self. Yes you guessed it right well I am an actor who works in a daily soap and as usual if I didn't wake up I will be late. With lots of struggle I get ready for shoot which is scheduled to take place at film city. I love to drive so usually I drive myself to the shooting spot. As usual set is full of chaos and as I entered I saw all eyes were fixed on me. Yes I was late. My co stars have also named me the LATE LATEEF PATEL. Ya sounds a bit childish but what to do.
There she is always on time just perfect in everything she does. Miss Pratiksha Pandit. My co star by default who has to wait every single day for me and I making sure she does so as per her name. Her parents might named her PRATIKSHA because they knew she has to wait for a man like me. My reverie was broken by a sudden shout from the director who called up for the shot. I went to my make up room to get into my character of a business tycoon AMAN KHANNA who gives no shit to anyone just like me. It doesn't take me much to get into that character as it was completely me portraying myself onscreen. With my business suit and glasses on I went to the set and there I saw her. How does she manage to look beautiful every day. Even if she is not fine or she is tired she looks divine with an angelic smile plastered on her face. She is the most beautiful creation of god that I have ever seen. But not only physically her inner soul is way more beautiful  than her outer self. She is the most understanding person I have ever come across. She understands everyone be the director, her co stars, spot boys, make up man everyone. Everyone loves her. Rahul Mehra is one lucky guy. Yes her boyfriend from past 5 years. Sometimes I envy that guy for having a girl like her madly in love with him. But i can't be sulking for that because I have an extremely sexy girlfriend Nisha. Yes I have been dating her from 3 months and we are on good terms with each other. She is a model who has lots of men roaming around her. But according to her I m the lucky one. Again I was shot back to the present by the angelic voice making me aware of my surroundings.

Pra:- Lost in Nisha's thoughts?

Aks:- Nah...thinking about you.

Pra:- You don't have to. You concentrate on your Nisha otherwise she will fly away with someone and you will be left alone.

I somehow confessed that I was thinking about her but of course  she didn't take it seriously as it was our normal friendly flirty banter.

Aks:- Yes of course you have your Rahul for that job.

We were disturbed by the spot boy who called us as the shot was ready.
We have to shoot the rain sequence ordered the director.
Suddenly water started falling from that so called man made clouds.
I got down from my car when I saw her there getting wet on the middle of the road looking for a taxi.
Come I'll  drop you.
No thanks, came her cold reply.
You are not going to get any taxi at this time of night. So you better sit in the car.
I can wait here the entire night but will not come with you in your car.
She started walking and I followed her. She was adamant. I pulled her by her shoulders and made her stop.
She was looking gorgeous. The raindrops were just adding the beauty to her already beautiful  face. Her lips were looking juicy and a sudden urge of taking those lips into mine arose in me. I somehow managed to shrug off my thoughts and made her sit in my car. I drove off. CUT!!!
The scene was finally over. How difficult was it for me to control my feelings. I needed a shower even though I was fully drenched. She has so much effect on me. I went to my vanity for shaking those thoughts off my mind and bringing some peace to my inner self.

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