The Scenic Life

Chapter 21

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The plan, primarily includes all of our colleagues. The first step to hatch the plan is to let everybody know what exactly happened that day, and make them believe me and khan.

After that, the second step is all of us writing our 2 weeks notice and submitting to  HR, who will forward everything to the production house.

And that is when the dominoes will start rolling in our favour.
They will go crazy over everybody resigning in the middle of the biggest project undertaken under behrouz studios, they will set a meeting with everybody and ask us why we are doing all of this, why were ruining their business and their lives. That is when khan and I will handle everything. That is when khan and I will speak up the way we should’ve done that day, the day everything turned to hell for us.

Knowing the producers, they will first panic about the loss, and then think about settlement. That is where we will win, the settlement that they will thirst for is they passage for our success.
Vihaan explained all of this to me in an hour, with me interjecting his speech every four minutes to tell him vehemently that this is not possible, that this will probably end up with all of us unemployed, that this will probably end up with me getting a heart attack due to all the pressure, that just blackmailing wont be enough.

He only replied to the last of my interjections, and said, “When did I say that is where were going to stop?”

And then he continued telling me the rest of the plan he had in mind.

“No, no, no, no! do you want me to die?!” I exclaim.

He sighs, “look this part of the plan will only happen in one of our worst case scenarios. And I'm pretty sure the producers will back down pretty quickly and listen to our demands because believe me when I say that these greedy motherfuckers will lose their dignities over money any day.”

I ignore his swearing, noticing that this was the first time he swore in front of me, and shift towards him a bit.

“How do you know this will all work out perfectly?” my voice, a soft caress against the strong wind blowing against our faces, making my hair go wild and stumbling around my face, and making his curls stick to his forehead in a funny way. I almost giggle.

He looks up from the notepad he has in his hand and looks up at me with genuine expression plastered across his face. “I know you find it hard to believe me after,..everything, but just trust me this once, please?”

His hand rises up from the notepad, probably to move my hair out of my face and behind my ear, but he hesitates. His hand hangs in the air, my breathing is hitched a bit, my insides fighting over what I want. one part is screaming for him to touch me, to hold me. another one is beating up that part with a bat, and telling me to go ahead and slap the shit out of him.

I am quite appealed to agree to the latter one, but I don’t.

His hand rests on the notepad once again, the only sound in the morning being lords voice singing about how she's a liability. I find myself quite attached to the lyrics.

He breathes a lungful of air, and scratches the back of his head. We've discussed everything about the plan that needs to come into plan.

Complete opposite to him, my breathing is still hitched, I am overthinking everything, everything about the plan, everything about the way he spoke today and how he spoke yesterday when he didn’t know the entire truth. I am still on the fence about trusting him, deep inside I am finding all of this very unbelieveable. The other part of me is clinging to the belief that he actually does believe me, and that all of this is not a façade, a mask, an act.
But keeping all of this aside, I cant forget the fact that he told me he once loved me. I wonder if he still does, I wonder what  he loved the most? My smile? Or the way I work? Does he even love me anymore anyway?

And if he does, does he know that I still love him?

It is as if he can read my mind, he starts to speak but then stops. I raise my eyebrows and sign him to continue.

“I'm sorry for everything I said yesterday, I wasn’t in the right mind.”

Is he also sorry that he said he loved me?

“but-,” he pauses for a second and then concentrates his whole attention to me, and says something with such ferocity in his voice, such braveness lacing his words, “I'm definitely not sorry about what I said about loving you.”

My already breathless lungs take a hit, my mind overthrown and my head a bit woozy. But I manage to whisper some words out of my mouth,

“aren’t you?”

“no, I am definitely not.” He whispers back.

My feelings had taken a hit yesterday, my emotions had been overflowing. But the way he is looking at me now, and the way I am starting to feel warm all over,I am starting to forgive him bit by bit. Anyone will call me stupid and reckless and a bit crazy, and I wont deny that. I am stupid, crazy and a bit reckless, so when he closes his eyes and leans a bit towards me, his hand inching closer to rest on my face. His eyelashes flutter on my cheeks, my nose touches his, and finally, my cold lips brushes his warm ones.

It is a feeling of euphoria, his hand cradling my face, his lips brushing like a soft, warm cradle of a rose in its vase.
I am about to deepen the kiss, snake my hand through his curls and pull him a bit closer to me, when his phone vibrates in his lap.

We jump apart from each other, the reality of the situation  just settling in. I am shaking, and desperate to rush away from his presence as the embarrassment comes crashing to me in waves.

The embarresment of forgetting the gravity of the situation we are in. yesterday's Supressed Memories come crashing back to me and I inch away from him slowly. I cant handle looking at him right now, it is too much.

He lifts his phone from his lap and reads the text.

“uh, um, its from the guys at the studio, they said they can fit in a ZOOM meeting at 12, how does that sound?”

I nod, “that sounds good.”

Vihaan had messaged everybody on the work group that we had something important to tell them about that day and incident. I had told him that telling them about the topic directly would just make it sound fishy, but he said that if we don’t tell them it would be fishy either way.
He stand up from the edge of the bed, but doesn’t make any move to walk away, i don’t know what to say either so I just stand. It is kind of awkward, but it is comfortable too. I have never felt like this in somebody’s presence. Like an open book, whose emotions are splayed across her face but her stance so strong and defensive that nobody wants to cling over her fence of insecurities.

I think he gets the hint that I don’t want to acknowledge the kiss, or better I say, almost kiss that we just had; and nods and heads towards the door,

“uh, see you at 12? In my room?”

I look at his loving eyes, now more open and honest and vulnerable towards me, and answer.

“yes, see you.”