The Prince's Indentured Bride

survival

“Your phone has been pinging every one hour and now it is dead being out of battery life.” My manager said the moment I entered inside my vanity van.

My eyes looked painfully sinned against the continuous armour of lights, lenses and camera. If not for Divya’s acrylic nails chipping off, and ungluing itself from her original nails maybe we would’ve wrapped up two hours earlier.

Sometimes women are so irresponsible that they consider themselves to be the cosmic egg, and everything revolves around them. This was not about just Divya, it applied to every woman around me. And my frustration was eating me from inside.

“Thanks.” I replied after taking my phone, placing it on the sofa and unbuttoning my shirt; sometimes velvet is too hot for a human bodice.

"Loving the view?" I asked tiredly through the mirror while pulling in my purple hoodie. It is always the comfort clothing, day or night, run or walk, hoodie is the best.

And sometimes a little teasing and distraction keeps humans mind off the cynical cycle of redundant life.

"While you are on it, I think you should work on your V line as it could enhance more of your worked out body features." That definitely was different now, mostly girls, in general female population loved watching serotonin high based activities done by men, sexy, they say. But getting feedback out of the blue was new.

"Sounds like a trainer's advertisement. Would you even like to recommend a favourable gym?" I tried joking and went in for the hunt of some cold water; I am utterly famished, and unhealthily dehydrated.

"I only know the one my brother goes to. He says they have good equipment too. Gimme a few hours, I'll let you know."

I laughed because I couldn't believe she was being serious right now. "Em. That was a joke." I said taking a sip of my refrigerated lemonade.

She made an O face, and then broke into a smile. "I am not used to jokes. I have been trained to only take orders."

Didn't sound, neither looked like the Emmet I knew from school and college. That Emmet Greyson was a walking b***h goddess who didn't give a s**t about following any rules and regulations.

This version of reformed and tamed Emmet; I wasn't used to it yet. And I was sure I would love to meet the old one.

Believe or not she has always been an integral part of my past years in Nainital, be it for her animosity with Vhrea–that would be an understatement as they were always like India Pak war zones whenever around each other–or the fact that very few people know how much s**t Emmet clears for her brother since they were thirteen.

"I didn't know what you would like for dinner. Your previous manager left these options in her notes, so I just ordered some Salad, rice and protein combo. I hope it is okay."

She said arranging the food on the tiny working table in the middle of the bus. "Food only fills my stomach. So, anything will do unless it's brinjal."

"I like brinjals. And by the way the food is cold. Do you want me to go and grab something?" She was really passionate, and good at her job.

Although new here she hadn’t let me complain about anything, not that I am a complaint baby or something. I must be a human who is always okay with anything until something like my love marrying my brother situation takes place.

"Nobody deserves to spend a chilly night buying food for someone else. It's ridiculous. What's on tomorrow's menu?"

I asked opening the rice box–maybe I should've heated it in the oven, but I don’t want to make Emmet feel inadequate at her job–and heard my phone ping, I should check it, but the charging point is too far from my seat and my legs are pricking needles with pain from the endless standing in the half-filled water tank.

Next time the audience love a water scene I shall ask them to use a water friendly boot kit to be used during the shoot. This was so exhausting.

"Um. I didn't plan for it. Would you like something Italian?" She asked while going through the notepad pages in her hand.

I laughed at her reply. Why was she so cute? "I was asking about my work schedule."

Chandini, my old manager used to call it menu because she felt I was like a dish on the list of different agencies, and people wanting to devour my talents; funny, but true!

"Oh." She replied, completely embarrassed with burst of Oh's in her first week of employment.

"I am sorry. I will concentrate better in the future." She replied by scribbling something on another notepad; this salad was tasting heaven though. Maybe I was just hungry.

"And Em, you don't need to worry too much about my liking. Just keep the calories in check and if you are unsure about something come to me and ask it right away. Okay?"

I wasn't sure why was she belittling herself with this job; I mean it is completely okay to ask something when in doubt, and "Don't be sorry for little things like this."

"Okay. Tomorrow in the morning you will be training the Mars batch for boxing, and then you have a meeting with the chief of award management about your nomination for Khel Ratna, and you have your script reading with the Hustle Rider team from 7 in the evening."

Listening to it itself sounded extremely exhausting, will I survive another tomorrow?