“Everything about her was a lie,” Vikram’s gruff words echoed across the room.
He bent forward, zoomed the camera, and sighed. The dark lines around her once-animated eyes spread deep like roots. Her desolate face lacked the bright smile she was known for. Her rugged skin hosted an array of wrinkles. Warm light seeped in through the windows. The opulent house effused gloomy vibes. He watched the men fit her lifeless form into a body bag. Her ‘queen-size’ life turned into a rubble. Tears rested on his lashes like icicles.
“This is huge news. Our channel will top the charts,” His colleague Anisha beamed.
His blood turned frigid. Anger bubbled. Pain formed a frothy layer on his heart. ‘Anaaya the star’ mutated into a piece of news. Her life was a slice of entertainment everyone wanted to lay their hands on.
“I will make it to the top, Vikram. I know it. Failures will not tether me.” He remembered Anaaya’s words.
A fashion event had set the stage for their first meeting. Her smile had his heart wrapped. Her scintillating eyes dimmed the lighting of the hall. She was a novice. But her ardor to make it big in the glam world didn’t go unnoticed. Being a well-established journalist had its perks. He helped her land her first big project.
“This is huge,” She popped a bottle of wine.
The bubbly liquid dribbled down her sylphlike waist. She pulled him closer, twirled her fingers in his hair, and explored his lips.
Months went by. She scaled the heights of the show biz. His importance in her life diminished. It was her birthday. The sequin gown clung to her at the right places. She looked like a goddess walking in the moonlight.
“Happy birthday my love.” He leaned forward to kiss her.
She raised her hand. He retreated.
“Let’s keep whatever we have between us under wraps. I don’t want to throw myself as fodder to the media.” Her lips curved into a beguiling smile.
It felt like he sat on the trough of a tide, the wind of betrayal stabbing him in his chest.
“Anaaya’s boyfriend is ready to give us an exclusive.” Anisha’s voice jostled him out of the dreary web.
“You go ahead. I’ll scan the house and talk to the police,” he spoke.
He entered her room. On the dresser was an empty glass. Medicines stacked in the cabinet stared at him.
“You are not welcome here.” The officer’s baritone voice startled him.
“I’m doing my job. The same way you are.” He tried to sound normal.
“We will notify you when we uncover something substantial,” the officer said.
“You can give me something to work with. Off the record.” He sounded persuasive.
“She killed herself. It gets lonely at the top.” The officer sighed.
He nodded pensively.
Her stardom was a facade. She slipped down the abyss. Everything else was history. Heavy tears landed on his cheeks.
The curtains came down. But the show went on.
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