When I stepped out of the bedroom into the living room, Aarav was sprawled on the couch, typing something intently on his phone. The television was muted, the city lights filtering in through the curtains.

  At the sound of my footsteps, he looked up.

  His eyes travelled slowly, observantly. Then he smiled.

  "I thought you were going to wear the least feminine thing you own."

  I made a face. "This is the least feminine thing in Sameera's wardrobe. It's a unisex T-shirt. One size loose. It just has a little embroidery. That's it. And these are baggy jeans."

  "Yeah," he chuckled, leaning back, "but you still look pretty."

  I rolled my eyes. "Don't fret. Just a few more days and I'll be rid of this." I gestured irritably at my chest. "Then I'll be handsome instead of pretty. With girls falling at my feet."

  Aarav ughed. "Sure. We'll see that."

  He stood up and extended his hand toward me in mock galntry. "But for tonight... how about a memorable, fun time?"

  I hesitated before pcing my hand in his. "Lead the way, sir."

  I tiptoed over to slip on my sneakers - I had chosen them to go with the jeans.

  "So what's the pn?" I asked as we headed out.

  Aarav opened the door with exaggerated mystery. "Let the pn unfold, my dear friend. First stop - food. Trust me."

  ---

  As the car rolled out of the gate, I noticed a small group of fans gathered across the street. A couple of them lifted their phones the moment they saw us.

  I had grown accustomed to this. Sameera's fans often waited outside the building for a glimpse. Sometimes there were paparazzi too.

  I rolled down the window halfway and waved.

  A few squeals followed.

  I even caught faint screams of, "Love you, Sameera!"

  Aarav gnced sideways at me as he drove. "You'll miss this, won't you?"

  "Not really," I said lightly. "Fame and recognition are what drive Sameera. Me? I prefer seclusion. Incognito."

  I smiled.

  What I didn't say was that over the past few days, I had begun to like the attention. Just a little. The way heads turned. The way people noticed.

  ---

  He pulled up outside a cssy, high-brow Chinese restaurant known for being frequented by celebrities. The fa?ade glowed in muted golden light.

  "You like Chinese, don't you?" he asked as we stepped out, his arm sliding naturally around mine - careful, controlled - aware of watching eyes.

  "But you don't. You told me so yourself," I reminded him.

  "It's my treat," he replied. "So whatever the dy wants."

  He bowed theatrically.

  I punched him lightly in the arm.

  He winced. "People are watching!"

  "Oh, then you should have been careful about calling me a dy," I retorted, ughing.

  Inside, the restaurant was bathed in warm golden lighting. A pianist pyed something soft and romantic in the background. The air smelled faintly of soy, garlic, and something caramelized.

  We were escorted to a corner table.

  I opened the menu - and nearly choked.

  "Man," I whispered, leaning toward him, "I could've suggested a pce with css and quality at half this cost."

  Aarav waved it away casually. "Look around. The price isn't for the food. It's for the company."

  I gnced around.

  A former cricketer sat two tables away with his elegant wife. A famous television actor ughed loudly with a friend near the bar. Others looked familiar, but I couldn't quite pce them.

  Okay. Point taken.

  The waiter approached with polished familiarity. "Good evening, sir."

  Aarav didn't even gnce at the menu. "Lychee Martini Vodka."

  The waiter nodded. "Slightly sweet & smooth, sophisticated, sir. Fresh lychee with a hint of lime."

  When the drink arrived, the pale pink liquid glowed under the lights. I took a careful sip.

  It was smooth. Fruity. Deceptively strong.

  Aarav handed me the food menu. "You're the Chinese food expert. I surrender."

  I took the responsibility seriously.

  "Prawn dumplings for starters. Crab meat and sweet corn soup. Half portion Peking duck. Stir-fried asparagus and lotus root. Steamed jasmine rice."

  He blinked. "I've heard half these names for the first time today."

  "You're welcome," I said smugly.

  He asked the waiter for wine. The waiter suggested Pinot Noir to complement the duck.

  Aarav nodded like a man who understood wine.

  I didn't.

  The prawn dumplings arrived first, delicate and steaming.

  "Dip it in this," I instructed, guiding his hand toward the right sauce.

  He obeyed.

  His eyes widened after the first bite. "Okay. I admit it. This is good."

  The soup followed - warm and comforting.

  Then came the Peking duck.

  The waiter carved it at the table with quiet precision.

  "Why is it called a Peking duck?" he whispered.

  "Because it is a duck," I replied.

  He ughed and rolled his eyes- but when he tasted it, he had to concede defeat.

  "Fine. This is excellent."

  The asparagus, lotus root, and jasmine rice earned less enthusiasm.

  "I'm a North Indian," he protested. "Give me solid baked rotis and parathas."

  "Uh. The taste takes time to grow. Sorry if you didn't like it."

  He burst out ughing. "I was teasing you! It's nice."

  ---

  When we finished, he leaned back.

  "You didn't order dessert?"

  Before I could answer, he signaled the waiter. "Dark chocote mousse."

  When it arrived - glossy, rich, decadent - Aarav's eyes lit up.

  "Now this," he decred, digging in, "is my favorite."

  I reached for a spoonful.

  He mischievously nudged my spoon away.

  "Excuse me!" I protested.

  He grinned, then finally relented.

  As he ughed, I noticed a streak of chocote at the corner of his lips.

  "You have mousse on your mouth," I said, trying not to ugh.

  He dabbed at it with his handkerchief.

  Then he paused.

  "You have some too."

  Before I could react, his fingers brushed lightly against my upper lip.

  Just a gentle swipe.

  But the sensation -

  It startled me.

  Not because it was inappropriate.

  But because my body reacted.

  A strange warmth shot through me. My skin tingled where he touched.

  I pulled my face back quickly and grabbed a tissue. "Got it."

  He looked at me for a moment then signalled the waiter to bring the bill.

  I dabbed my face unnecessarily with the tissues. Lately, my body seemed to be responding differently to touch - more acutely, more intensely. Sensations I had never noticed before now lingered. Was it the role? The costume? Was it affecting me somehow?

  Or maybe it was all in my head. I didn't know.

  ---

  "Hey Aarav! Hey Sameera!"

  We both turned.

  A couple stood beside our table.

  "Hey Rajeev. Hey Farhana," Aarav greeted warmly.

  Recognition clicked.

  Rajeev Khanna - the music composer - and his socialite wife Farhana.

  "We were leaving and spotted you," Rajeev said. "Nice running into you."

  "Same here," Aarav replied.

  Farhana turned to me dramatically. "Dahling, Sami! You've vanished from parties. We've been missing you."

  I forced a polite smile. "Just keeping to myself. Been busy."

  "Oh, we know," she said knowingly. "VK signed you. You're the next big thing. But you must come. It's normal to have fun."

  "I will," I promised vaguely.

  Rajeev leaned toward Aarav. "Finalized a music composer for your VK film? I've been on a good streak tely. Come listen to some tunes at my studio."

  "Sure. Someday soon," Aarav answered smoothly.

  Farhana looked me up and down approvingly. "You're dressed so differently tonight. I love the embroidered tee. So simple. Yet so beautiful."

  Beautiful.

  I was aiming for pin anc non descript.

  "If someone posts pictures of you tonight," she added, "it'll become a trend. You look hip."

  She air-kissed me. Rajeev shook Aarav's hand.

  They left.

  I exhaled and rolled my eyes.

  Aarav smiled softly. "See? I told you. Gorgeous anyway."

  "Shut up," I muttered. "What next?"

  His eyes widened mischievously. "Oh? You want more?"

  "You said that earlier," I replied, folding my arms - which only accentuated what I was trying not to accentuate.

  He ughed.

  "Yes," he said, lowering his voice pyfully, "the night has just started... Dahling."

  I looked at him suspiciously.

  "A gaming arcade?" he suggested.

  My face lit up before I could control it.

  He grinned triumphantly. "I knew you'd like that."

  He stood and offered his hand again.

  "Come," he said softly. "We have a lot to do before the sun rises."

  Something about the way he said it felt oddly exciting - though I brushed it off.

  And I followed him out.

  ---

  That's the end of Chapter 15. Do let me know your thoughts on the chapter. Comment freely. Drop a like if you enjoyed reading it.

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  > ? Moon Winters, 2025. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, pces, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resembnce to real people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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