Vijay twisting Salman's arm above.

nazlanmak

(v.) saying no and meaning yes

Having been nominated at least once every year for the past four years, Kiara was the proud winner of two 'Best Actress' awards and was hoping to make history tonight by winning her third. As expected, she had been nominated tonight but was pitted against worthy rivals– Deepika Padukone, Neena Gupta, Rani Mukerji and Tabu.

After the event, awards were immediately handed to their team and event organisers for processing while the actors were ushered to their cars for the afterparty. Kiara braced the bright lights and camera flashes, craning her neck to look around after losing Vijay during the chaos, and bumped into long-time friend and actress, Sonam Kapoor, as they made their way into the exclusive club. Paparazzi screamed various instructions from all around them as they stood and posed for the cameras. 

A lot of the reporters were more than curious as to why Kiara and Vijay weren't spending as much time as they usually did around each other so it was a struggle to hold her tongue when they hurled hurtful accusations at her, targeting their friendship. Fellow actor, Salman Khan, lingered not too far behind Sonam with her husband, Anand Ahuja, as they eventually made an appearance. He leaned in to greet Kiara, before romantically whisking his wife off to the dance floor.

The couple's absence left Kiara alone with Salman as her stomach tightened with unease. He was big and bulky, his presence consuming her like a bad aftertaste. He'd always been subtly inappropriate, fingers just barely grazing places they shouldn't– close enough to make her uncomfortable but not too close to end up with his face smashed in, courtesy of Vijay.

 He leaned in to stroke her waist unnervingly, "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you," she mumbled, trying to take a step back, but his hand drifted dangerously low on her lower back to keep her in place.

Having slowly flirted his way through the club, Vijay wore an easy smile as he leaned in and toyed with the woman's hair. The smile faded when he spotted Kiara with a muscular arm wrapped around her waist and though he was glad to have found her, reliving the events that transpired between them over the past few weeks was ruining his playful mood. His relief was short-lived upon noticing the grimace she was trying to hide but after seeing who the arm belonged to, it became apparent as to why she had reacted that way. While he made no move towards her, he did make sure to keep a close eye in case Salman misbehaved– although he doubted even that man would make such a stupid decision.

Salman's fingers tightened on her lower back as he whispered in her ear, "I hear you've been quite the social butterfly since the last time I saw you."

Pulling back to look Kiara in the eye, Salman's hands remained firmly on her body, making her feel as if something was crawling beneath her skin. Her heartbeat drummed as uncertainty clouded her mind. He had always been inappropriate, but politely inappropriate– if that were something that existed. He'd never brought up anything personal or invasive.

His saccharine voice took a cruel edge. "I was very disappointed when I found out, Kiara. But I would love to meet this new boyfriend of yours."

"Of course you would," she breathed, trying her hardest to reign in her repulsion.

It took a second for Salman to realise someone else had heard every word of their conversation, and the heavy presence against Kiara's back could only belong to one person.

He glanced warily behind her, before looking at her with the most insincere smile and bitterness dancing in his eyes, "I'll hold you to that, Kiara."

Vijay moved to stand beside Kiara as his eyes flitted across her face in search of any distress but he refused to reassure her, still holding a grudge. Grateful that he couldn't be selfish with her, she silently gripped his hand as he nodded once in confirmation before returning to the woman he was flirting with. The night went by as hours of dancing and mindless chatter finally caught up to Kiara. Her feet grew sore in the heels she wore and sweat pooled down her back as the white embroidered saree felt heavy against her skin. She excused herself to the bathroom, making quick work of cleaning herself up. 

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Kiara took a deep breath and solidified her resolve. Having only spent a few days apart but already missing her best friend, she decided to pull Vijay aside and apologise. Stepping out of the bathroom, she reeled back in surprise upon colliding against Salman as he reclined against the wall opposite the female toilets.

She looked around and panicked, realising they were concealed from sight, "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

His hand shot out and clamped onto her arm as she tried to nudge past him, "That's the problem," he drawled, drawing her uncomfortably close as the unmistakably pungent smell of alcohol burned her nose; "you never see me."

Out of nowhere, a body barrelled into Salman and pinned him against the wall, forcing him to release his hold on Kiara.

Vijay twisted his arm and spoke in an eerily calm tone, "We may be having a bit of a disagreement right now," shoving him harder once more for good measure; "but don't you ever lay a hand on her."

Frantically tapping his free arm against the wall, Salman yelped in pain as he tried to shove Vijay off, "Okay! Okay! Get off me, motherfucker!"

Reluctantly letting Salman go he spat, "Next time, make sure the girl is willing before you touch her."

Impressed at how easily Vijay was able to subdue the significantly larger man, Kiara remained shocked even as Salman scowled and walked away. She winced when Vijay punched the wall in an attempt to dissipate his suppressed rage, wanting nothing more than to nurse the fresh wound as a steady trail of blood dripped from his knuckles. The two best friends looked at each other for a moment, processing the myriad of emotions they felt. Words were never necessary for them to understand one another as they shared a look of appreciation, regret, anger and joy all in one. Every micro-expression and slight movement was magnified to one another as they read each other's thoughts and feelings with ease.

They apologised in unison, shoulders dropping as if a weight had been lifted from them, "I'm sorry."

No further explanations were necessary. Solely by uttering those simple words, both Kiara and Vijay recognised the unspoken promise– you will never be alone. So with a pounding migraine and bleeding knuckles, the two best friends contentedly linked arms and left the party. Indifferent to the oncoming uproar tonight's scandalous paparazzi shots would cause, they stopped by the closest food cart for Panipuris* as they laughed and joked around without a care in the world for the constant intrusion of cameras. 

The locals around them gaped, astounded at how normal the 'superstars' were acting while Jimmy and Sanjay dutifully stood guard. Fans hovered around eavesdrop on the celebrities but even so, they remained unfazed and continued messing about as if they were the only people on the street. Vijay playfully carried her from one vendor to the other as her feet began to hurt in the impractical high heels. Their infectious giggles brought smiles to those around them and eventually, when the onlookers and paparazzi could no longer be ignored, they begrudgingly separated to their respective cars with wistful smiles playing across their faces as they returned home. Being neighbours for the past few months in America, she felt strangely lonely having to drive in opposite directions to their Delhi houses.

Finally putting their grudges to rest, Kiara felt much lighter the next morning than she had in a while. She blindly scrambled around for her phone and FaceTimed Vijay, greeting him with a muffled "good morning".

Looking at her through bleary eyes, he mumbled, "There's a really good shot of us from yesterday. Made it my lockscreen."

She squealed, "That's so cute!"

"Oh, fuck off."

She cooed, "Don't be embarrassed, that's actually so sweet of you."

He rubbed his forehead, "Did you get the invite for Ranbir's party?"

"Yeah, you going?"

"Probably. You?"

"Why not. I feel like we haven't seen anyone in ages."

"We haven't. It's been over a year since we've been in America."

"That's something we have to work on."

"What is?"

"Learning to balance our friends in both film industries."

He laughed, "You would think we got the hang of it by now."

"Honestly, it's easier said than done. Anyway, I'm going gift shopping in a bit. Want to tag along?"

"Oh shit. I need to get Ranbir's gift too. Yeah, I'll come. Meet in two hours?"

"Fucking hell, you take longer than me to get ready."

"Sweetheart, it takes time to look this stunning."

Laughing as she hung up, Kiara lay in bed for a little longer and let herself bask in the warmth of the morning sun's rays before getting out of bed to prepare for the day. Managing to get dressed within an hour, she drove over to Vijay's house while trying her hardest to avoid running over a photographer. The persistence with which paparazzi chased celebrities was something she hadn't missed about India but nevertheless, she was accustomed to finding ways around it. By the time she reached, he was already outside waiting for her so he slid into the passenger seat beside her and plugged in his phone to the aux cord.

She hit his arm, "Excuse you! Why do you get to control the music?"

Tipping down his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, he gave her an incredulous look, "Because your taste in music is shit."

"That's just rude."

"Sweetheart, you listen to a billion different languages."

"I'm a student of the world, baby."

Shuffling through Vijay's array of songs, Kiara sang along with him as they drove to the nearest shopping mall and tried to stay low to avoid unnecessary attention. However their efforts were in vain as cameras flashed and people began shouting as soon as they stepped out of the car. They spent the next few hours walking around and shopping for Ranbir's gift, eventually deciding to settle for jointly buying him a new Xbox console. Vijay was currently lounging on her couch as she neatly wrapped the gift and made a beautiful card.

She leaned back against the bottom of the couch, having finished writing Ranbir's card, and sighed, "All done."

He tugged on a strand of her hair, "Thank fuck for that. It only took forever."

"Well you could've helped!"

"Meh, can't be bothered."

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

They stared at each other, daring the other to break eye contact first, but neither Kiara nor Vijay could keep a straight face for long and they burst out laughing. He stood and pulled her up with him as they relocated to her kitchen and made dinner together. Ripping open the pack of spaghetti, he salted and boiled the pasta in a saucepan as she cut up some tomatoes, onions, garlic and herbs along with minced beef for the bolognaise sauce.

Monitoring his cooking, she reminded, "Make sure it's al dente."

He frowned, "What the fuck is al dente?"

She paused, considering him for a second before adding the vegetables to the cooked minced beef then tugging him over to switch places with her, "This is easier. Just let the sauce simmer until it thickens into one uniform substance, okay?"

Prodding the spatula as if it were poisonous, he asked, "It doesn't look like sauce."

"That's because you're supposed to keep mashing and combining the vegetables with the meat until it becomes a nice red paste."

Begrudgingly concentrating on the pan before him, Vijay managed to create a decently good bolognaise sauce while Kiara perfected the spaghetti and tossed it in the sauce.

Plating two dishes, he grabbed the grated parmesan cheese, "Tell me when to stop."

She grinned as he widened his eyes while topping the spaghetti with parmesan but remained silent until an absurd amount of cheese coated her dish, "Okay, that's good."

"Fucking hell, woman. It's a miracle your arteries haven't clogged."

She moved to grab their dinner and laughed, "Yet!"

He abruptly stopped her and shouted in alarm, "Freeze!"

Rushing out to Kiara's backyard garden, Vijay collected a few leaves of basil and ran back in to garnish their dishes. She pinched his cheek and swiped his chin before pointing to the plates as he transferred them to the dining table while she grabbed two glasses of orange juice. Shaking his head upon seeing the juice, he quickly pulled out his flask of bourbon and spiked his drink as she threw her head back and laughed. They talked and joked around all through the night, eventually falling asleep as she tried to rest up for her day tomorrow.

Sanjay came by the next morning with Vijay's car as Kiara teased him about having a babysitter, much to his chagrin. She made the mistake of offering to cook breakfast which inevitably led to lunch and before they knew it, the two men eventually left by the late afternoon. As soon as they left, she rushed around to clean the house before getting ready for her dinner date. 

To be completely honest, this week in India hadn't been solely for the Filmfare Awards as Kiara was invited to meet with a well-known political party leader. While her tendencies to take on humanitarian missions was admirable, the negative consequence was balancing the politics of it all. For someone with such an aversion to politics, these meetings were the highest order of torture. Even fashion was a weapon when it came to the art of politics and she planned to be armed to the teeth, pulling out a form-fitting blood red evening gown. Symbols were power and what better way to emanate strength than choosing bold colours.

Amit Shah was the absolute caricature of a sleazy politician and he made no efforts to hide it. The man had been subject to various corruption scandals but somehow managed to come out the other side unscathed. Additionally, he was the leader of the Bharatiya Janata Party– BJP for short, which also made him Rahul's long-time rival. 

Thanking the waitress as she placed two cups of chai before them, Kiara focussed her attention back to Amit as he tried to slither his way into her good graces by bad-mouthing Rahul. Tens of thousands of leather-bound books crowded the ceiling-high shelves around them as the low murmur of conversation disrupted the otherwise reverent silence. She knew of the astronomical annual fee demanded that granted club members greater freedom than in any public space. The Vaikuntha Club library marked the location where various alliances and agreements were forged. She predicted he had no intentions of interacting outside the hushed confines of Vaikuntha

Finally losing her patience, she huffed, "Cut the crap. We both know Rahul was never an issue for me."

Inching forwards slightly, he begged, "Kiara, the people listen to you. If you said even just one word of support, that would be enough for me. I hope you can assure me the people's votes."

Kiara remained silent in thought as she observed the hooded man lurking in the shadows. It was obvious from his movements that he was poised ready to attack at the sight of any potential threats to Amit and if his lean muscled form was any indication of his dedication to fitness, she had no doubt the man could disarm her in seconds.

She tilted her head towards him, "What is he for then?"

Amit leaned back in his seat, "Ramesh? I needed someone to aid the party– someone to help me manoeuvre around difficult people."

She snorted, "You mean you needed a lackey for your dirty work."

"If you want to put it that bluntly, then, yes," the politician said; "Ramesh keeps my opponents quiet."

"As quiet as the grave," she said sweetly.

A sinister smile tugged on his lips, but he kept his face straight, "Yes."

She sighed, shoulders dropping in disappointment, "The people have never benefited from your leadership and they're well aware of this so even if I supported you, it wouldn't convince anyone."

Gritting his teeth, he listened as she continued, "Now, whether or not I would support you is a whole other issue but for the time being I suggest you walk away."

Ramesh was behind Kiara in an instant, an arm clamped around her wrist as he pulled her against his chest with a knife resting dangerously close to her throat. She couldn't say she never saw it coming even as her pulse leapt into her throat. She knew holding this meeting in Vaikuntha meant Amit was more than willing to exercise his more nefarious talents of persuasion but it was in her best interests to put whatever suspicions the politician had to rest. 

Alarmed gasps rang out as patrons grunted curse words in Malayalam, Hindi and English around her. Chairs fell backward to the carpeted floor as a few members jumped to their feet, hackles raised as Jimmy's hand flew to his gun. While the patrons were well aware of the danger Amit posed, an attack on her was an attack on everyone. 

Momentary indecision flickered across his face as Amit realised his mistake in threatening India's most loved figure amongst such high-profile members of society. A tense silence extended across the room as the Vaikuntha patrons regarded him with unimpressed looks. His mistake was assuming the fondness with which fans addressed Kiara did not extend to the members at Vaikuntha. 

Annoyed at the uncomfortable sensation of the sharp object still pressed firmly against her neck, Kiara moved with remarkable speed and slammed her head back into Ramesh's nose while pushing the knife away and kicking his feet out from under him at the same time. Quickly grabbing the collar of his shirt, she flung him onto the ground before her as Jimmy pounced and incapacitated him. Realising the threat had been dealt with, most of the patrons shot her respectful nods before returning to their conversations, pretending the past few minutes never occurred. The complete anonymity and exclusion from societal legalities was what made Vaikuntha such a popular club and it was for this reason that she couldn't fault their lack of reaction.

Aiming her icy glare at Amit, she murmured softly but not weakly, "Do your worst. I'm made of stronger stuff than that."

Not bothering to stick around, she walked out as Jimmy hissed, "Kiara has the unflinching ability to forgive despite any situation. Try something like that again and you will find, I don't extend that same courtesy."

With those final words, Jimmy kicked Ramesh as he stepped over his unconscious form and angrily bumped Amit's shoulder as he followed Kiara out of the club. He was positively fuming, disappointed in himself at his lack of awareness. At the ease with which he let his guard down, practically allowing her to be attacked. 

It had been a long time since he last felt the sort of panic that clawed at his chest as it stole the breath right out of his lungs and squeezed at his heart until he was left gasping in terror. He couldn't erase the memory of the utter stillness in her face as she pictured the various outcomes in her situation. The fact that she even considered a world where her death was possible only heightened his sense of failure. She may have forgiven him easily but it would take him a lot longer to forgive himself.

*Panipuri: a North Indian dish of hollow puffed ball filled with potato, chickpeas, onions, spices and dipped in tamarind mint flavoured water

Eighteenth chapter done!! I've honestly been banging these out faster than usual but that's because I know there'll be a time where I can't write for ages so enjoy!