"I thought you were the one advocating more spotlight for undiscovered and rising stars. Now, why do you suggest booking a model instead?" Mrs Nandhini says.
Miraya squeezes her eyes close and opens them again, her brown eyes bright like the forced smile on her face. "Yes, but don't we usually book models if a celebrity pulls out? Maybe we can do...um, Shray Nivas, in the next issue, with better planning and organisation? We can't do him justice in such a short time." His name makes her tongue feel so weird that she wants to spit the organ out. Away from her.
She won't be given the privilege of doing the cover story of the issue twice in a row. If she manages to put him next instead of quitting the assignment altogether, everything would go back to being great. It was a clever idea.
"No."
"Ma'am —"
"I don't understand what you are trying to say, Miraya. Are you suggesting that we might not be equipped enough to pull off this? You should know that we have carefully considered our options and come to the conclusion. Shray has a growing fanbase, especially women. If my niece gets the chance, she'll buy all the copies herself, stick his pictures in her room — if there's any space left, that is — and memorise his interview. There are so many girls like her. Shray is very relevant right now. We should be grateful that he has agreed to do it despite his busy schedule. We are in no position to pick. Beggars can't be choosers, Miraya. "
She bites her lip. "Ma'am, please consider —"
"No, Miraya. You don't understand. We have already reached out to his team regarding it and they are interested as much as we are, especially for the promotion he can get for his upcoming film. Though, they mentioned some time and venue adjustments because of his tight schedule for the month but we think we can accommodate it," Mrs Nandhini says, breaking her heart with every word.
She continues the assault. "I am afraid your suggestions and ideas are fruitless right now, Miraya. It's only a matter of whether you will take it up or not. If you don't want to, I can ask Shree to do it. With a little guidance, she will be able to —"
"NO." Miraya blurts. She can tolerate it if the assignment went to someone else but if it's Shree, then absolutely not.
Shree is like an annoying fruit fly that hovers even if you swat it away.
If an opportunity is given to her instead of Miraya, Shree will make up a story that she will repeat ten thousand times a day. The story will include a woman who is offered an opportunity and is shocked when she receives it (Played by Shree). But instead of taking it like a 'greedy' woman, she will insist it be given to the 'deserving' one (Played by Miraya). Eventually, under high persuasion, the 'greedy' woman ends up taking the opportunity.
Note of paramount importance: It isn't out of greed but out of pressure that she accepts it; She will give it all away in a blink.
As if.
The amount of bullshit in the story manages to impress Miraya every single time. She shudders when she pictures listening to Shree transform her urge to show off into fake guilt and apology.
No.
She wouldn't let herself be upstaged by that fruit fly. She would swat it away before it got the chance to fly.
"I'll take the assignment. It would be a pleasure," Miraya says, smiling through her teeth. Mrs Nandhini beams, a glimpse of relief in her eyes. God, why do I hate so many people in my life? They just have to be annoying, haven't they? she thinks.
"Is there anything else, Ma'am?"
"You can take Fiya with you if you need assistance. It might be a good experience for her. Update me on the progress. You can leave now," Mrs Nandhini says. Miraya turns, wanting to pull her hair out for landing in such a situation. How does she keep attracting trouble? Where does all the bad luck keep coming from? "And Miraya?
She stops at the door.
"Good luck."
Oh, she will be needing lots of that.
That and the divine power of tolerating the upcoming torturous days with the calmness of a saint.
"I heard we are doing the cover story. You got it, didn't you?" Fiya stands just outside the door and whisper-yells at her as soon as she steps out. Miraya forces all the enthusiasm she could find in her body and hugs her with a fake grin. "I told you. I told you that you would get it. So, am I coming with you?" she asks.
"Wasn't that obvious?"
Fiya flings her arm around Miraya and gushes about how it is going to be her first time meeting a celebrity and how she is going to post in on her social media and flaunt the perks of her job. She doesn't notice that Miraya is oddly still in her arms or that she is barely holding her disappointment in.
"The social media team is saying that this month's cover model is Shray Nivas. Is it true?"
Miraya winces. That damn name.
"You said you'd be there," Shray said, his fingers focused on removing his socks but his eyes on her. The nurse had left early that day, so the PE teachers asked Shray to treat his wounds in the Nurse's room. He had dragged Miraya with him.
"I know. But they scheduled the selections for my throwball match at the same time as your game. I tried to come but since I am the team captain I couldn't," Miraya said, kneeling in front of him and grimacing at the swelling on his ankle. "It looks really bad."
"I would've won if you were there."
Miraya rolled her eyes. "No, you wouldn't have. You spent all your time annoying me instead of practising. It's all your fault."
"I knew I was going to lose from the moment I realised you weren't going to make it," Shray said, stretching his leg out towards her.
"Stop being stupid," Miraya said, dabbing rubbing alcohol on the bloody scrape on his knee.
"Just think about it. I've won every match that you've come to. I've lost the two that you didn't. You carry my luck, Miranda. Whether you like it or not." Shray's hair dripped with the water he had dumped on his head after the game. When he said things like that with his eyes on her, she felt her breath catch.
Miraya blew on his wound. "The day you call me by my actual name is when I'll consider coming to your game."
Shray leaned back and propped his body weight on his palms. "I'd rather lose my game than do that, Miranda."
She threw the cotton swab at him, shaking her head. "You're insufferable."
As promised, Shray never stopped calling her Miranda — the name of an orange-flavoured soft drink — and Miraya, contrary to what she said, had never skipped a game of his after that.
In the end, he got what he wanted. She didn't mind losing to him.
"Miraya?"
"Huh?"
Fiya frowned at her but repeated her question. "I asked if it's true? Are we meeting Sh—"
"Yes."
"You know that I have a huge crush on him, right? Oh my god, this is the best news. What if I meet him and we just click?" Fiya asks and the first thing her mind comes up with is the fact that Fiya is not Shray's type. He would never go for her. Not that Fiya isn't beautiful or funny but there's no chance they would hit it off romantically. "Or what if we become friends? Who knows, right? Anyway, I am going shopping today."
"I thought you had a date with Ashraf?"
Her palm flies to her forehead. "Shit. I forgot about him completely."
Miraya rolls her eyes and walks past her to her seat. She thinks about what it might feel like to meet Shray again. Can she stare at his eyes with the same confidence she had years ago? Her biggest fear now is meeting him and reliving her traumatic past that she had left with him when she had let him go. She can't afford to break down in front of him. He can't know how much the thought of him still affects her.
Should she go back and quit the assignment and let Shree take it? The worst that she will have to bear is a few bruises on her ego and a fake apology from Shree. Right?
"You know what?" Fiya circles her seat and leans forward. "Mr Hari said they'd definitely buy a coffee machine if this month's issue is a success. We are covering most of it this time so if it sells more than average, we could even get a refrigerator."
"Really?"
"It's confirmed news. So, Miraya, it's our job to make Shray look like the delicious and charming man he appears to be so that people go crazy after this issue. If we do that, that coffee machine is ours." That won't be a problem, Miraya thinks. That asshole is charming even if he didn't try.
She glances at her coffee and curls her fingers around the cup. It has lost all its warmth. It sits cold on her table.
Miraya sighs and closes her eyes, massaging her forehead with her index fingers. She is supposed to be enjoying this assignment and loving the process. And here she is, hesitating to even begin it.
The question running in her mind is: Is this assignment and the coffee machine worth all the heartache she is going to inflict on herself? Is she strong enough to survive him?
"What are you thinking, Miraya? You're awfully distracted. Is something wrong?" Fiya inquires.
Miraya quickly composes herself. "No. Not at all." She swallows the less than warm but not cold coffee like it's cough syrup, barely letting it linger on her tongue. Once she's done, she crushes the cup and throws it away.
Miraya will do the assignment. She can face him. She can stay strong through it all.
She has to.
She will.
"Are you sure?" Fiya presses.
The smile on her face is almost real. "Yes. Everything is perfect."
A/N:
Hi! Thanks for deciding to continue reading. I am so glad you're here.
Miranda is (used to be) an orange-flavoured soft drink that was almost available everywhere when I grew up. Fanta was one of its rivals. Honestly, I didn't see the difference between the two but Miranda, as far as I know, is extinct now (RIP). The nickname originated from this drink but coincidentally, Miranda is a character in Shakespeare's play Tempest, which Shray and Miraya had to learn in their 11th and 12th grade. All the more reason for the name to stick, right?