I stood backstage, heart pounding, palms sweating.
What was I doing here?
This wasn’t my dream. This wasn’t even my problem. This was Aanya’s world, Ishita’s ambition, Rivaan Kapoor’s ego.
And I?
I was just an outsider who had walked in by mistake.
I adjusted the silk dupatta draped over my shoulder. The costume assistant had thrown it at me, muttering something about “looking the part.” I barely listened.
My brain was too busy screaming.
Then, the assistant director’s voice boomed.
“Contestant number twenty-two,Vaanya Malhotra! You’re up!”
I sucked in a breath.
Stepping onto that grand, over-the-top set, I felt like I had entered a different universe.
The scene was set on a rain-drenched bridge. Fake water droplets glistened under blinding lights. Crew members whispered. Camera
