Finally, the lead engineer looked up and lifted a thumb. “You’re good. All levels clear.”
Kabir let out a long, uneven breath. He rolled his shoulders, muscles twitching with residual energy from the set, then unhooked his guitar and handed it to Ayaan, who watched him with a frown.
“I’m done for the day,” Kabir muttered, stepping back as the lights flared brighter for final focus. The heat pressed againsthis skin, wrapping him in one last reminder of the artificial high he’d just come down from, landing crash bang into reality. “See you guys tomorrow.”
Kabir hopped off the stage, his assistant hurrying behind him. “Sir, your father called me. He wanted to know why you weren’t answering your phone.”
Kabir frowned as he strode to the cluster of buildings in the distance. “I don’t know where it is. Tell him,” he muttered, “that I’m fine. I’ll get in touch after the concert.”
Rahul nodded and peeled away to call Ved. He saw Varsha marching over to him, her phone clenched tightly in her hand.
“Kabir,” she said tersely.
“Whatever it is,” he told her, “it can wait.” He turned away from her, ripping off his t-shirt and mopping the last of the sweat on his brow.
“It’s your aunt.”
Kabir froze, his t-shirt clenched in his hand. His stride faltered for a second before he continued forward. “Later,” he said.
“I think you should deal with this now.”
“Is she dead?” He tossed his sweat soaked t-shirt to Rahul who’d appeared again, the phone still tucked between his ear and shoulder, his neck cricked at an unnatural angle.
“No,” Varsha huffed.
“Then it can wait.” He finally made it to the building with the dressing rooms and pushed through the door into the blessed chill of a beautifully efficient air conditioner.
Varsha hurried after him, her stilettos making annoying clacking noises against the tiled floor. “Kabir, we leave in three months on a world tour. You’re performing tomorrow. It can’t wait. This needs to be dealt with now.”
“I will decide what I’m dealing with and when,” he snarled at her. “It’s my fucking fucked up life. For now,” he spun on his heels, walking backward as he glared at her, “all I can manage is to get up there and sing.”
“And I’m fucking grateful for that,” Varsha shot back, not missing a beat. “But this isn’t going away. This is going to be dogging your heels for the rest of your life. The sooner we put it to bed, the sooner we can move on.”
“Put it to bed,” he laughed, a bitter sound. “How do we put this bed? Do you know? Because, please, if you do, share it with me. All ideas are welcome. I’m fucking lost here.”
“Kabir, slow down,” she warned. “I need to talk to you.”
He came to an abrupt halt outside the dressing room allotted to him and glared at her. Rahul walked up, took one look at their angry faces, did an about turn and disappeared.
“With all due respect, Varsha,” Kabir said, his voice flat with anger, “you manage my career, not my life.”
“Since when are the two separate?” she asked, her voice softening at his obvious distress. “Come on, Kabir. You know I’m only doing what’s good for you.”
Exhaustion slammed into him, almost driving him to his knees. The adrenaline was gone, the rage spent, leaving nothing but a hollow ache. “I can’t do this now,” he said, the fight leeching out of him. “I just need to have a drink and hopefully sleep for a bit,something, anything that could get my brain to slow down for a bit. Just, not now, okay?”
His hand went to the door handle, clenching around it. “Let’s get through tomorrow. And then, we’ll talk.”
“Don’t open the door.”
Kabir’s hand stilled on the handle. He met Varsha’s panicked gaze. “Why? What the fuck have you done?”
“It wasn’t me,” she said, her words a garbled rush, nothing like her usual ball breaker tones. “Please, let’s just talk before you-“
Kabir shoved the door open.
Dark, intense eyes, a mirror image of his own, met his. She wore a simple t-shirt over black leggings, her hair neatly braided and lying over one shoulder. Beside her feet sat a haversack stuffed to the hilt.
“Hello,” she said, her face devoid of anything resembling a smile. “I’m Zara.”
