In His Custody ✎ (MaNan)

✰ 11 - all the stars

Thank you for pushing my book up to rank #5 on Literature, FAM <3 I know that is not the genre this book was to belong in, but I highly appreciate where it is! <3

So many updates this month, hehe, so don't forget to tap the star okie? OKAY, point made! :P

Keep your support flowing! *heart eyes emoji* Y'all drive my passion further, trust me! :3 And if I haven't replied to anyone yet, it was because I was typing this part so please dil pe mat lena :P I LOVE YOU!

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Manik

Two things in this world make me very happy. One is music, and the other is stars. Nobody so far, including myself, has been able to decode the reason behind my fascination for them. They are permanent; they politely exist in daylight without trying to stand out, and then when the time comes, they shine to their fullest capacity in the darkness.

"Manik, ready?" Alex buzzed me out of my happy place, into the world of reality where there is never darkness except in people's hearts. A star cannot just exist to make a mark in tainted hearts: there needs to be so much more. I can do this. Clearing my throat, I complacently nodded while tuning my guitar as well.

Cabir, on the other hand, was slouching on his stool, tapping his drumsticks together with a broad everlasting smile. When last was he ever this happy in front of me? "What's up? You seem quite happy today! Any nasty plans in store for me?"

He half-chuckled, "Sure!" I was still processing this timid side of him when he completed himself. "I had a good one last night!" Perhaps he got some ass in one of those clubs. Oh well... good for him!

In front of us sat Ashok Khurana, a suit-clad man with salt and pepper side-swept hair, and a young woman, with bangs in front of her face. Her lips that were coloured a bold smoky red were a standout on her silhouette. She resembled Ashok so much that concluding she was his daughter would not be far out.

"Okay go," Ashok commanded, and as instructed, we executed our rehearsal from early that afternoon. And tune after tune played.

It was a big deal for us to clear this audition. We were all supposed to give it our best, that was why we were in Mumbai in the first place. Though I was physically absorbing the rhythm, for the first time, my heart wasn't into what I was singing. I wasn't as connected to my passion, the meaning of my existence, as I should've been.

How did she keep track of every little thing I did or said to her? It was fascinating that she could read me so well, in just one meeting. Was she that observant, or was I just so easy to understand? If I was... then why do I always have issues with dumbasses in my life? How did I, a useless good-for-nothing piece of trash, mean so much to her?

I wasn't exceptional in any way; if anything, I was only more of a douche back then. She's a blur to me. I remembered her, I remembered some good times, but all that was wiped out of my memory. What struck me most was the blank expression on her face like all life was sucked out of it. She didn't plead. She didn't cry. Her eyes were closed, and I left, without a second glance at her devastated state.

"Good job..." Our team eagerly clapped for ourselves, but I was in the middle of nowhere, lost as always. I held my head high and lowered my dear guitar, a confident smirk painted over my visage. "...was that what you were expecting me to say? Pathetic."