Simran

******

Something was off.

For me, every day I get that feeling, but this was too intense, too different. This feeling was wild, like I had already been told something was wrong, and it was not just my intuition screaming. I had no clue where to look for what was wrong. But I knew something terrible was going to happen or had already happened.

It had been ten days since I was told I wouldn't perform as a soloist, ten days of receiving the bloodied tie of Byrol Paine and the box with a black diamond and a sunflower. At the same time, it had been ten days of absolute peace because neither my stalker came to see me nor I had to deal with the beast. I should have been at peace, yet it felt like that was just the calm before the storm.

I looked at the crowd in front of me. The ones cheering too loudly were my people: Samaira Di, Niti, their husband Namit jiju, and Arjun, who had been there to see me perform even when it was not as a soloist. I performed as a corps de ballet member, and they seemed proud and happy. Even when they were initially upset because of my dream being shattered, they cheered me up, and boosted my confidence, and now, after my performance, as I look at the crowd, they were the loudest cheerleaders of my life. The fact that standing on stage, I could only see people who cared for me and did not feel my stalker watching me should have relieved me, but it did not. He had never missed any of my performances ever since he started watching me dance. So his absence did not seem normal to me. And instead of feeling comforted, I was more agitated, as if a storm was almost at my door.

I tried brushing off that feeling too many times, but it was obstinate and wouldn't budge even an inch. I did not know how to feel at ease, and trying to avoid that sentiment was making things worse too. I would have been glad if I were PMSing, but I was not. I had my period only a week ago, so this negative, terrible feeling had nothing to do with my periods and was a sign sent to me as a warning by my intuition. I planned on listening to the warning and decided to act cautiously. I thought maybe it would go away once I got off the stage, changed, and headed to have dinner with my sister, Namit jiju, Arjun, and Nitya at one of my favorite restaurants, where Di had already made reservations.

I, along with my dance group, headed backstage after the curtains drew. Our performance was last and undeniably was loved too. It was quite obvious to everyone that the show was a great success, and that was one of the prime reasons for the beaming smiles on everybody's faces, aside from our love for dance. However, apart from my stalker not watching me, one more unconventional thing happened. One of the sponsors did not attend the show, the same one who made me lose my chance to be a soloist. Not sure why, but Kiaan Chauhan missed the show. He put in efforts to ruin my career only to not witness it at the end, when I clearly knew how much he thrived on seeing me fail at every point in my life. For some reason, all the abnormalities of the day felt connected, or maybe it was my overthinking.

As soon as everyone gathered together in the hall, we always did after the end of every show everybody began clapping and cheering for each other. Daisy had done great as a soloist and I was happy for her. I walked to her, smiling as I praised her, "You were great out there!"

Her smile widened as she genuinely responded with, "You, too. I couldn't even blink when you were performing."

"She is right. I am still awestruck..." Dustin said, as he pulled me into a sudden hug. I was not a fan of being this touchy, so I instantly pulled back, but said nothing and only smiled back. He surely did not mean any harm, was simply excited, but unnecessary touching with most people always made me anxious.

"Congratulations, team, it was spectacular watching you guys perform," the ballet master Roger said before he made eye contact with me. Guilt crossed over his features, and then he walked to me.

"No one could match you. You were brilliant out there," he said proudly, but his surfaced guilt stayed. I knew he was upset over not being able to fight for my rights properly, but I had no grudges against him. He was not at fault. At least he tried going against Arthur's and the director's cunning power-play game.

"Thanks."

His head hung low, and he started leaving, but I stopped him.

"Roger..."

"You should stop feeling guilty. It was not your fault." He looked surprised, surely confused about how I knew he was guilty about something.

"Daisy told me everything. She told me how you tried fighting for my rights, and I am really grateful." He sighed, still feeling terrible about what had happened.

"But I could do nothing. I tried, I swear I did..." I interrupted him with, "I'm sure you did. But I guess being a soloist was not my fate."

Not this time, but soon it will be.

I did not say it out loud, but I knew the soloist of the next show would be no one but me. Nothing could deter me this time, neither the cunning schemes of any Beast nor a selfish choreographer and director. But I kept my words to myself. It was not the right time to tell anyone about what I had planned.

"Everyone, listen. I have something to say."

Arthur gathered everyone around him. Everyone got closer except me and Roger. We stood together at the back. My smile from earlier wavered, and Roger was angry.

Arthur had a rule to congratulate, praise, and motivate everyone after the show. It was a ritual for him and for us. Earlier, it used to fill me with a new sense of joy, but not this time. This time, I knew his words would cut deep after his betrayal. After he replaced me just because the director told him to, because of that so-called sponsor, Kiaan Fucking Chauhan, he did not deserve my time and respect.

"All of you did an outstanding job today, leaving everyone speechless with your performance. Surely, Star Flare Dance Academy this time will take two or maybe more of you talented peeps. But don't get too overconfident and don't stop excelling. And always remember, if any one of you falls, I will be there to catch you."

Arthur's speech was quite hypocritical. He said he would be there to catch whosoever falls, but the truth was he would push the other person instead of catching them, just like he did to me.

He kept on bragging about the Star Flare Dance Academy and how Daisy would surely be the one candidate selected by them.

Star Flare Dance Academy was the topmost dance academy in the world. It was the only dance academy that functioned differently than the others. There is no direct selection or audition-based selection available to be a part of it. There was no shortcut to join it either; hence, the academy was highly prestigious and respected. Their key members attend shows of different dance academies and have quite a keen eye for talent. They evaluate the talent and if they find fit, they select them. Once you are a part of it, your success will be incomparable to the dancers of the other institutes or academies. Gates of multiple opportunities start to open for them. They always selected the soloist from our academy and I guess this time it would be Daisy and someone else if they selected any. But I doubt that. They never selected anyone from our academy except for a soloist.

Arthur was still giving his speech when I just left from there. I did not have it in me to watch and hear the person partly responsible for pushing my dream to take a back seat. I headed to the changing room and changed into my oversized jeans and a yellow hoodie. I headed out knowing my sister and friends would be waiting there for me and all that mattered to me then was them for the rest of the night. I was not going to be upset about losing an opportunity when I was confident and happy that I had performed really well.

As soon as I was out of the auditorium and rushed out, I was instantly crushed into a bear hug by Niti.

"You were amazing!!" she exclaimed. To be honest, she squealed excitedly.

"I did good, didn't I?" My smile mirrored hers, wide and bright.

"Good? Darling, you were spectacular, like a doll." I felt quite content hearing her cheering me up still.

"Jun..." she called Arjun, who was talking to someone on the phone. He hung up instantly and came to where we were.

"Well done, Sim. Everyone was looking at you, solely you."

"That's a bit too much," I said, finding his praise somewhat exaggerated.

"A lawyer's sharp gaze witnessed it. You have no other choice but to believe it." He said, smiling, and handed me a bouquet of white lilies. I reciprocated with my smile, realizing the honesty behind his words.

"Jun, the cookies?" Nitya asked him.

"Cookies?" He looked almost shocked.

"Yeah, the ones I asked you to keep for her..." Niti paused suddenly and gasped as if a sudden realization washed over her face.

"You ate them," she stated, not asked.

"I thought they were for me." The dangerous criminal lawyer looked flustered in front of his wife as he rubbed the nape of his neck. He then pulled a cookie from his pants pocket and showed it to her as he said, "I only have this..." before he stuffed his mouth with it, smiling sheepishly at us.

Nitya was surprised, and shook her head, while I laughed. While the two of them began bickering like an adorable couple, I looked around for my sister, but she was nowhere to be found, and neither was jiju.

"Where are Di and jiju?" I asked.

Nitya's expression turned solemn a little. She glanced at her husband before she replied calmly, "Dhri got sick suddenly. Bhaiya took her for a check-up."

I got alarmed hearing something happened to Di. Before I could make worse assumptions and start rushing to see her, Arjun replied instantly, "It's nothing to be concerned about. You know how hard-working she is; it's the workload that caused her to fall sick."

Still, I needed to go see for myself if she was doing fine.

"I need to go see her." My worries for her kept increasing.

"No, not tonight. I was talking to Namit only just now and he and Dhriti do not want your night to be ruined in any way. Besides, it was just mild dizziness, yet her husband went all caveman. Possessive guy!!"

Nitya slapped his arm playfully, yet glaring at him.

"Stop badmouthing my brother," she rebuked him.

Arjun's words changed instantly for her. "I love that guy. Perfect husband in the world."

I chortled. They were always adorable.

Nitya turned to me, held both of my hands and excitedly began her blabbering, "Simi, the plan is still on. We are still celebrating tonight, going to have your favorite meal and ...."

She would have continued prattling if we had not heard a familiar voice calling for me, "Simran."

I stilled.

My breath caught in my throat. A deafening silence began spreading amidst the chaos of the noise of the honks of the vehicles and the crowd leaving the auditorium. There was no way that person would be there, out of all the places, that too on the day of my performance. There was no way he could be. We had not seen each other once in the last three years. He had time and again reminded me how I was a curse bestowed upon him and not a blessing he used to consider me once. I did not want him to be a reality. I wanted the voice to be of someone else's and not his. Facing my deadly nightmare seemed easy then instead of facing him.

Maybe it's a nightmare only.

This presumption came from my inner voice.

But the way Nitya's cheerful demeanor dropped and a somber expression took over her face because she was the only one who knew the truth about him confirmed I was not stuck in any nightmare. He was actually there. Her change of expression did not settle well with her husband. Arjun was a criminal lawyer who was exceptional at reading people and surroundings. While he might not have guessed the entire story still his expression hardened only because his wife was serious. But more than serious, she was concerned for me, for her best friend. Her eyes filled with worry as they glanced over at me, and she tightened her hold on my hands. I gave her a small smile and squeezed her hands back to assure her everything was fine before I left her hands, took a deep breath, and turned to face him.

My father, Arvind Kashyap, stood there, only a foot apart.

Three years sounds like a little, but a lot has changed in these three years, about him, about me, about our relationship. He had more gray hair than before. He appeared a little more exhausted than usual. He was not my handsome young father who always had this kind and pleasant aura around him. It made me upset that we had grown so apart that it seemed I didn't know him at all now.

My hands began to grow clammy at the recall of the last time I had seen him. All the pain, deep buried, came back with force. He stared at me with an indifferent expression, and this was scary. Anger at least means the other person still cares for you, but indifference is worse. It means you don't mean anything anymore to that person. My heart broke at the thought. My throat clogged, and still, I could not stop myself from calling him like I used to, "Dad..."

My voice came out as a whisper, but it was laced with so much pain. I wanted him to hug me, to let me know he still cared for me, that I was still his carefree darling daughter, that he had forgiven me. But nothing of that sort happened. He walked to where we three were, closer to me now, yet so far. I fisted my palm to control my emotions and tried composing myself because the last thing I wanted was for my best friend to witness me in a terrible state.

"Mr. Kashyap," Arjun greeted Dad and shook his hand. Dad smiled at him, which he did not at his own daughter, and greeted back, "Hello, son..."

"Hi, Uncle..." Nitya smiled at Dad, even though I knew it was coated with worry for me.

"Hello, beta..." Dad stroked her hair, giving her his blessings, which he had not done for me. It made my heart ache like never before. My father was a kind man; it's just his kindness was not for me anymore. In his eyes, I was only a culprit. Before my tears broke free, I pulled out my bottle from my backpack and began gulping large sips of water. I chugged down the entire bottle before putting it back in. I had forced my tears back in, and unclogged my throat, yet I could feel a new lump forming.

Dad was still smiling and looking around now as if searching for someone.

"Where is Samaira?" he asked Niti.

"She got sick, so Namit took her for a check-up," Arjun replied, instead of his wife.

Dad's expression changed instantly as soon as he heard him.

"Sick? What happened? Where did he take her?"

He seemed ready to bolt out and run to my sister. It made me asphyxiate and my heart ached more. I was not the loved daughter anymore. I knew my sin was unforgivable, but couldn't he give me just one chance? Didn't I deserve that one chance at least?

"She is fine, Uncle. Don't worry..." Nitya tried to calm him before Arjun added, "Yeah, it's nothing to worry about; otherwise, we would have been with her. I just talked to Namit. He reassured us she is good."

Dad breathed a sigh of relief, but his concern for Di did not faze at all. He had not once asked anything from me or said anything to me, except for taking my name. I stood beside him, and he kept treating me like someone too insignificant to pay attention to. I had no clue what he was doing there when he clearly was not interested in my baller career. Heck, I was heedless of what he was even doing in London. There had to be a huge reason for him to come to my show, which meant something terrible was going to happen or had happened. My instinct was not wrong at all.

"I heard you guys were about to go have dinner somewhere," Dad said, before he continued, "Sorry kids, but I would like to take my daughter tonight with me. We have a lot to catch up on. I hope you both will understand."

We have a lot to catch up on.

That one statement seemed more like a warning rather than a statement. There was no way he flew from India just to scold me for not picking up his calls. Something big was behind it all, and it sure was not going to be pleasant for me. No matter how worse the situation got, I did not want to pull Nitya and Arjun into my mess, so I said to my friends, "Yeah, you guys go ahead. I'll go with Dad. We will have dinner next weekend. Till then Di will be fine too to join us."

Nitya did not look very convinced but agreed. She hesitated to leave until Arjun put his hand on her waist and held her close.

"Okay, see you soon," Nitya said before she and Arjun left. Once they were gone, Dad stood there, his hands in his pocket and he looked ahead at the road without saying anything. I was not sure what I had to do.

Should I say something?

Or should I just wait for him to say anything?

Is he waiting for me to talk to him?

My mind was crowded with too many questions, but soon the questions changed when a car honked at the roadside, and Dad began walking in its direction.

He did not say anything and just walked away.

What was I supposed to do? Follow him?

And where were we going?

Whose car was that?

Dad turned to me when he was closer to the vehicle. I took the cue and walked to the vehicle, which seemed very familiar. I could not remember where I had seen it, but that black Mercedes belonged to someone either I knew or had met more than once.

The driver rushed out and opened the back door. Dad got in first, followed by me. Once the driver was inside, the vehicle accelerated quickly. I could not remember seeing that driver before, but I knew the car's owner was someone known to me. I just could not pinpoint who.

The drive for the next ten minutes was too quiet. I wanted to ask my father where we were going, but I wondered if he would even answer. Instead of trying to get answers to my questions, I stayed mum and looked out the window at the running city lights, the view I always loved while in a car. It had been so long since I enjoyed a car ride, so long of admiring the beauty outside, so effing long of smiling at the beaming lights of the tall buildings. It's been ages since I was me, the real me. I had stopped doing a lot of things, stopped living a carefree life, and lost the real me.

"You did not pick up any of my calls."

All of a sudden, I was startled.

Dad's question took me aback, and I looked at him. He was staring at his phone now. He talked to me first but did not care to spare me a glance. I was not sure if I should be happy that he talked to me face to face after three years or feel more hurt because I recognized his disappointment in me.

What was I supposed to answer? The truth?

But he seemed to know the answer to his questions, yet was pretending or acting otherwise. Did not he know he only called to make me realize I was a failure, a disappointment to him and our family?

When I stayed quiet for a long time, still looking at him shocked, he said, "I see...You plan on rebelling, as always."

"Why were you at my show? It's not like you support me dancing." I finally spoke up.

His fingers halted from typing something on his phone. He looked straight ahead, and I became conscious that there was an unknown driver too in the car. I composed myself, not wanting to argue with Dad in front of a stranger. I was feeling too overwhelmed and felt like crying and screaming, but I had done that all in the past, and nothing could melt my father's heart toward me. Instead of replying to me, he said something that had me stunned.

"We will stop at the hotel I am staying in. Your dress, shoes, and everything else you need are already in my room. I have hired someone, and she will help you get ready."

I began reeling through his words, which only angered and confused me. After being absent from my life for three years, he suddenly appeared and was ordering me around, like I was some puppet and not his daughter. Not only that, he chose one of the special days of my life, the day of my show, to make me realize how big of a disappointment I was. Pain and anger began swirling inside of me and as a result, tears pooled in my eyes.

A few more minutes later, the car stopped somewhere, and Dad asked the driver to step out and wait for five minutes.

Dad kept his room key between us on the car seat, glanced at his watch, and said, "You exactly have one hour. Right at eight, someone will come to the room and will escort you to a private event on the third floor."

"No." I instantly replied. My body got heated up with the way I felt embarrassed and hurt and everything I should not have been feeling on my special day.

"What did you say?" He turned to me, his eyes filled with rage.

"I said no." My voice though cracked.

"You will do as I say, Simran. This is not the point for debate. You will adhere to my words."

That was when the dam of my sentiment burst, causing the words I had been trying to bury to come out.

"Why should I? You did not see me for three years. You don't want me in your life anymore. You have only kept me as a part of your family to avoid unnecessary media attention. You have said this countless times—that I am a curse to you—and suddenly you appeared on the day of my show, took me somewhere without telling me anything, and want me to listen to you?"

I said it all in one breath. I was heaving with heavy breaths. My body shook with uncontrollable feelings.

"You don't care enough to ask me how I am doing, even to pretend in front of my friends like I am nothing but a black hole in your life." I could still not forget the embarrassment he made me feel in front of Nitya, while blessing them, talking to them, and not even caring to ask how I was doing?

"Oh, you are doing quite fine. I saw when you were smiling and happy on the stage. Trust me, you are doing much fine for someone who..." He stopped. He did not complete his sentence, but I knew what he was about to say. It's not like he hadn't said many hurtful things before, and I wondered why he stopped then. I was astounded at his hypocrisy, and I yelled.

"Say it. Why stop yourself? Or maybe just tell me for what selfish reasons you want me as your puppet for tonight?"

"You killed your mother, Simran. You owe me this and much more." His cold, seething words hit me like a harsh slap.

I was rendered speechless. There was a sudden buzzing sound in my ear, and then I could not hear anything else. Everything was quiet, just too quiet.

Dad said it.

He repeated the words he only said once, three years ago, that had broken me beyond repair. I thought he would not say it, had a foolish hope that maybe, after all these years, he would not say it, but he did anyway. I thought it would not affect me the way it did the first time, but the impact was the same this time, perhaps more than the first time.

A tear trickled down my left eye as I sat there as I felt someone was choking me. I could not breathe and the car was too compact. It felt the car was shrinking, and was trying to kill me. I began wheezing, struggling to breathe, and when my eyes fell upon my palms in my lap, dread settled in my body. There were tiny red dots of blood in my hands. The colour of the red drops on my hand started turning darker and darker, and the blood began to flow through every vacant area of my palm. The red dots were now flowing liquid, running up my arms. My tears began to stream roll out as I tried to scream, but nothing came out.

"Get away..."

"Get away..."

"Get away..."

"Get away...."

I whispered as I cried and rubbed my palms on my jeans. My jeans turned bloody red, too.

"Simran..." Dad shook me, but I could not see anyone, only the blood which just kept on growing and growing and reaching up my body, covering me, making me filthy. A sudden knock on the window on my side of the car had me screaming in fear, and the blood suddenly vanished. It was gone now, just with one knock. I looked at my father, who had scooted closer to me, his eyes full of concern. He was holding me by my shoulders as if he was trying to shake me or something.

When the knock came again, I hurriedly took the room key and dashed out of the car, not looking back. I ran inside the hotel but stopped in the lobby of the ground floor when the bright lights of the place almost blinded me.

The hotel was glittery and bright, contrasting with my dark reality. Wiping my tears with the back of my palms, I looked around and felt lost. I did not feel like I belonged there or anywhere, or with anyone. The feeling of having no one to rely on caught up with me, the sentiment of being the weed of the family, the unwanted person, the variable in everybody's lives. Everything was too bright for my dark world, and I just wanted to run away, and leave. Confused, I stayed where I was in the hotel lobby, only to be given pitiful, weird glances my way.

"Miss Kashyap..." someone called suddenly.

"Huh?" I turned around, looking confused, and found a staff member of the hotel smiling at me.

"Mr. Kashyap asked me to take you to his room. Please follow me." I took a deep breath and nodded. That seemed like the right thing to do. I had to take one step at a time, and right then, following Dad's order seemed right because it would give me time to compose my scattered self before I eventually had a one-on-one discussion with my father about his arrival and his interference in my life. My sudden panic attack might have stopped me from talking clearly to him, but I was going to do it that night. All I had to do now was pretend to be a trophy daughter for my father for a short while. That could be doable, I thought. I thought the worst was over. Too bad I was clueless that the worst was yet to come.