Stellar Affair Part 3

The universe was trying its best to make me sad, irritated and hopeless. The distance to the hotel was a few miles, but the endless traffic made it an hour long struggle, boss's texts were just as quick as the wind. Trust Delhi and its roads. By the time I reached the hotel, I was in no mood to do the session. 'Just because he is an affluent client, he thinks he can do whatever he feel like!' sparred my mind. 'Mr Kishore at the Prestige Suite', I asked the receptionist as politely as I could. She dialled the number to the room, 'May I know who is asking?' 'Miss Sharma from Mr Sahu's office'. The receptionist nodded and put the phone down. She gained the entry approval and called for the bellhop. The young fellow then escorted me till the Prestige Suite, VIP clients and their VIP treatments. I stood in front of the door and rung the bell. After a few seconds the door opened, a man of small built stood beside the door, his hand still on the knob. I wasn't used to be greeted with such lack of enthusiasm, therefore, it was easy to deduce that the manager (That's what the man looked like, an ass working for the king) was having a tough time with the actor. 

'You must be Miss Sharma, did you tell your purpose of your visit down at the reception?' 'No, I said it was personal'

 'Good, the last thing we want the world talking about his image rebuilding' 

'Sorry I don't see my client here' I said after scanning the entire suite.

 'Oh! He is out, I mean he was at the gym. He should be back in any moment' said the manager nervously. My patience on the other hand was wearing out, I am sure he could see that on my face. 

'So are you an Ayan Kishore fan?' he asked, just to clear the air. I shook my head, 'My presence here is entirely professional and-' my eyes turned to the door, it opened.

 'Finally!' I thought. And there he was, the person I dreaded the most. Furtively the crazy star-struck girl popped up, he was attractive after all. Standing almost six foot, wheat-ish complexion, his black-lashed eyes, his straight hair slicked back off his face. Drenched in sweat, he wore gym shorts and white vest tank top. His abs were partially visible. Overall, he looked ridiculously sexy. He entered with headphones on and bare expression. For a moment my mind lost all the grudges against him. And then he did the worst thing; he opened his mouth to speak. 'Whose this?' he asked in a dopey way. I on the other hand spoke for myself directly. 'I am Shireen Sharma, your image consultant' 'What the hell is she talking about Chandra ji?' he again asked his manager. 'Sir, the producer has asked for it' he said. He turned directly towards me, he looked me into the eyes. I am sure he recognised that I was a no non-sense person or did he recognise the sweet and innocent Shireen from school years ago? 

'I think your service is not needed, you may leave' he said coldly.

 'But Ayan you can't do that-' cried the helpless manager. 'Shut up Chandra ji! I will handle the producer myself' he said arrrogantly. The nerve of this person didn't please me at all. 'Please go!' his tone had turned quite vile. 'Excuse me?' 'Just go!', he was almost shouting, when suddenly a woman entered the suite. I recognised her face from the tabloids and media files. 'Ayan you need this. It will set you straight' said the woman sternly. 'But why this?' he argued. 

'Can't he think of a better solution!'

 'No, Ayan. This has to be done' she said like a mother says to his son. Mother! Darn it! She was none other than Ayan Kishore's god-mother Sunanda Nayyar, wife of producer Ashok Nayyar. 'Do get yourself ready, you're not going to start things in gym clothes' she said, noticing his clothes and sweat. Mrs Nayyar turned towards me, 'So you are Sahu's best?' she said. She was scanning me, inch by inch. I could make that out. 'Yes, I would be delighted to help'

'Help?' she laughed scoffing 'My dear you will need more than that'. Something about the woman wasn't right, she was planning something very difficult for me. 'I think I can manage' I said confidently. After a few minutes, Ayan appeared in the room wearing normal tee and jeans. 'Sorry for the earlier behaviour' he said, definitely didn't sound as if he meant it. 'Now begin' said Mrs Nayyar.

 'I am sorry but it has to be him and me, first' I intervened. 

'Oh! Then I think I will see you after?'

 'Thirty minutes precise' I assured and Mrs Nayyar left, so did the poor manager. She wasn't very pleased by the looks suggested. 

'Look, get this over with real quick. I have no intentions saying anything, that lady has my money. I need that producer to give me my money' h

e said really fast, almost took me a second to realise that he had stopped. 

'Very well, Mr Kishore. Lets begin with basics'

He was a hard man to talk, the basics included knowing his attitude. How he dealt with anger, irritation, frustration, public etc. He was answering very slowly as his phone would seem more important. Starry tantrums were usual, I didn't bother stopping him. He then looked up, noticing my disinterest and said

'You might be the only girl in ages who hasn't frantically gone gaga over me' 

'I'm sorry', indeed I was distracted.

'Well, you haven't started those silly absurd questioning nor have you complemented my looks' he said cheekily

'Look, Mr Kishore. For me, you're just a client who is trying to save his reputation'

'That's the point. I am not trying' he shot back.

'But will you? Look, I just have fifteen minutes for this session. I want to help and it will only happen if you cooperate'. 

'Fine, fifteen minutes and you'll know' he kept his phone aside on silent. And he spoke, just he spoke. 

Those fifteen minutes were long, a client has never been so frank, Ayan on the other hand was. I tried to make notes for every possible thing he said. His body language was simple, nothing complex but his words coupled with it. For once, I might have set my personal issues aside and talked like an ordinary therapist. 

'So basically, you're saying attention needs you rather than you needing attention?' I suggested one of the possible theories. 

'In simple words, yes.' he replied.

'How is it different according to you?'

'Whenever I do something out in public, I feel like I am forced to do it' he said, sounding innocent and honest.

'The brawl with the photographer last month?' I questioned

'The camera needed my attention! I wasn't in good mood to get captured'

'So you punched the photographer?' I demanded a more plausible theory.

'You know what, you don't get it' he concluded.

'I won't Sir, until you admit your anger'

'Anger?' he raised his voice

'Any use of drugs?' I asked to divert the question

'No! I've never taken drugs' he answered back

'Were you tempted?'

'Everyone is in my world' he said hastily.

With that my thirty minutes were finished. Mrs Nayyar and the manager were back. If my services were required they could call back the office, if not, well, bad luck. My first interaction with him in years was professional. I was disappointed that he didn't remember me, but maybe it was for the best. Or it wasn't? 

'I like her' he said to the producer's wife. 'Take her in Chandra ji' 

To be continued...