Kiara looking effortlessly flawless above.

viridity

(n.) naïve innocence

The crew had been working tirelessly, closing in on the final stretch of filming. With only a few months left before Enlightenment wrapped its first season, the once-intimidating set now felt like a second home to Kiara. Somewhere between the endless takes, late-night script reads and caffeine-fuelled mornings, she had unknowingly built friendships that felt like they would last a lifetime. Emilia's tender warmth, Henry's effortless charm and Poorna's sharp humor made the long hours fly by. Together, they had become a strange wonderful little family. 

Vijay, however, was another story. He had only managed to truly bond with Jeffrey, which wasn't much of a surprise. Most people struggled with the unpredictability and Kiara couldn't blame them. It had taken her years to decode the man. But in typical Vijay fashion, he didn't care what anyone thought. The Indian film industry had long branded him difficult, and truthfully, it was a miracle he still had a career. Reckless, temperamental and hopelessly impulsive, his reputation would have buried most actors. Yet his raw talent made him untouchable and his fans adored him for his unapologetic authenticity. For better or worse, she remained the only person he ever truly listened to.

The early morning air was biting as Kiara curled her legs beneath her on the couch, hoping the sunrise might bring a little warmth. Around her, the set buzzed with sleepy energy. Jeffrey shyly strummed a few chords on his guitar, testing out a melody for a new song, while she clapped and cheered, genuinely impressed. Poorna paced the room, whispering her lines under her breath, while Henry sat at a nearby table, eating a muffin and scrolling through his phone. Then Vijay appeared. He strolled in, unhurried as ever, his trademark swagger intact.

Kiara sighed in exaggerated relief, "You're on time."

He grinned, "You ask, I come. I'm easy like that."

"Yeah, I've heard," she said dryly, handing him a paper floatie. But as she looked at him, her smile faded; "You look–"

He cut her off, "Dashing? Gorgeous? Irresistible?"

"Drained," she finished flatly.

He ignored her tone, unfolding the floatie to admire her sketch, "I need your opinion."

"On what?"

"My shirt."

"Perfect," she deadpanned; "Because that thing has got to go. I've been wanting to say something for years."

Vijay stared at Kiara, pretending to be wounded.

She widened her eyes in mock guilt, "Oh, wait—it's not about the shirt, is it?"

"You know it's not," he muttered; "You're just giving me shit."

She shrugged, grinning, "We take our opportunities where they come."

Jeffrey chuckled quietly from across the room, amused by their exchange, as a slightly disheveled Emilia jogged onto set, apologising for her late arrival and blaming her alarm clock.

Kiara twisted a strand of hair between her fingers, "So, what's up? What kind of trouble are you in now?"

Vijay perched on the coffee table across from her, looking sheepish, "Girl trouble."

"You mean girls. Plural."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she beat him to it, "Shraddha? Go personal. Childhood memories– she'll melt."

He blinked, "Actually, I–"

"Samantha? Something simple and elegant. Or wild and spontaneous. Your call."

He tried again, but she kept going, "Rashmika?," she waved a hand dismissively; "Oh, doesn't matter. You could send her a text and she'd cry from joy."

Finally, he smirked, realising she hadn't named the one he meant, "What about Nargis?"

Contrary to what their friends believed, Kiara wasn't jealous of Nargis. She just didn't trust her. Something about the woman felt performative– like she saw Vijay more as a prize than a person. And though Kiara wanted to be supportive, she couldn't ignore her instincts.

Her nose twitched– a telltale sign she was holding back her opinion, "Don't know. Don't care. I have better things to do than decode her latest meltdown."

He clasped his hands in mock prayer, "Come on, Ki. I don't believe in monogamy, but I'm trying here. Just... help me convince her that I will?"

She arched a brow, skeptical, "Do you even believe yourself?"

He rolled his eyes, "Don't look at me like that. She knew what she was getting into."

"Were you honest about that?"

"Completely," he said with a smirk, "I peeled back all the layers. In bed, on the kitchen counter, over the—"

She gagged, "Jay!"

Vijay laughed and Kiara studied him for a long moment, torn between warning him and letting him learn his lesson. 

Finally, she sighed, "Fine. I'll help."

He lit up instantly, "Really?"

"Yeah. But Nargis is a diva."

"And my therapist says I act out. So?"

"So, she likes a show. Give her one."

"Sweetheart," he said smugly; "I am the show."

"And that," she muttered; "is exactly why I buy your Diwali presents."

He frowned, "Wait! We're supposed to buy Diwali gifts?"

She smirked, "Yep. And you're very generous."

He looked genuinely confused as she continued, "For Nargis– go big. Think roses, diamonds, dinner. The flashier, the better."

"Fine. But you're helping."

"You mean please help."

He grinned, "Absolutely."

She pressed her fingers to her temple, "I'll rope Nic into it."

"How?"

"Persuasion."

"Friendly persuasion?"

"Decidedly not."

An alarm sounded, signalling the start of filming, as crew members scrambled to set up. Emilia disappeared into makeup while Kiara joined Poorna and Jeffrey to shoot their first scene. Twelve hours later, the day was finally over. As they waited for the elevator, Emilia and Kiara passed the time with a game of Kiss, Marry, Kill– this round starring all their on-screen love interests.

She grinned mischievously, "Okay, easy. Kiss David, marry Ben, kill Raja."

Emilia raised a brow.

"Ben's already my husband in the show," Kiara explained; "Raja's a man-whore and David's adorable."

Emilia laughed, "Well, no regrets there."

"None whatsoever," Kiara agreed.

Emilia tilted her head, "I don't know who any of them are, but I feel like I should."

"Then we'll fix that," Kiara declared; "You're getting a full Bollywood education."

Emilia squealed, "Movie night!"

"You're on. Now your turn."

She thought for a second, "Hmm... I'd kiss Drogo, marry Tom and kill Kit."

Kiara burst into laughter, "Get him back!"

They exited the elevator still giggling, heading into the cool evening air. Outside, Vijay was waiting, leaning casually against his black Porsche and jotting something into his ever-present notebook. Kiara hugged Emilia goodbye and crept up behind him, peeking over his shoulder. She had always been curious about that notebook. It was one of the few things he kept completely private. But Vijay, ever the mind reader, had already spotted her reflection in the glass. Without looking up, he flipped to a fresh page and scribbled, 'curiosity killed the cat'. She snorted, flicked the back of his head and grabbed his pen to add beneath it, 'satisfaction brought it back'. He laughed, tucking the notebook into his back pocket.

He reached over and gently pinched her cheek then swiped her chin, "Why so pouty, sweetheart?"

It was their thing– that gesture. Years ago, Kiara had done it to tease Vijay and it stuck. Now, it was shorthand for affection disguised as mockery.

She glared, "Want to try that again?"

He hesitated, "How about... forgive me?"

"I only accept written apologies," she sniffed, buckling her seatbelt.

He chuckled, starting the car, "Seatbelt, Ms. Mathew."

Second chapter doneeee! Please don't forget to vote and comment.