As the two of them lapsed into easy conversation, Dimple gingerly took her seat beside Priyal. She couldn’t have orchestrated a better arrangement. No one would bother her with Priyal flanking her left and Saffi a solid presence to her right. She felt herself finally begin to relax, breath evening out.
The room got progressively louder as more people entered: the general public who had paid for the opportunity to see the premiere, and celebrities and influencers who’d been paid to promote it. Dimple could’ve sworn she saw a couple attendees attempting to snap sly photos of her. She did her best to ensure they got a flattering candid.
“Everyone seems so excited,” Priyal whispered giddily.
Dimple turned to Saffi, hoping to gauge her reaction, but she seemed more interested in the theater’s tall ceilings than the proceedings around them. An inherently selfish sinking feeling found a home in Dimple’s chest. She wanted Saffi to see her. She wanted to be the last thing Saffi ever saw.
Before she could dwell on it, the lights dimmed and murmurs hushed as the theater plunged into darkness. The screen remained stubbornly black long enough that Dimple feared something had gone wrong. It suddenly occurred to her that she had virtually no idea what all these people would be witnessing in a few short seconds.
Dimple had seen many actors rise as fast as they fell. Most of the time, they never recovered, fading into obscurity in the best-case scenario and ridiculed for years in the worst.
A pinch to her wrist made Dimple’s head snap up. She let go of her biceps, trying to remember when she’d started digging her fingernails into them.
“What did I tell you?” Saffi whispered. “I’m the only one you should be afraid of.”
Dimple blinked at her as the words registered. Her hand slipped into her pocket, closing around smooth plastic. Plenty of actors came back from a flopped movie. None came back from death row.
Dimple turned back to the front just in time to see the screen fade from black. Chilling music sounded around the room, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her heartbeat thumped to the rhythm. She felt as though she were watching through the eyes of a hundred people as her face flashed across the screen.
Chapter Thirty-Three
September 5, 2026
It wasn’t untilwarm theater lights brightened to life that Dimple realized her vision was blurry. In a blink, something trickled down the side of her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. There was nothing but the ringing in her ears, the thump of her heartbeat.
Her character had died on-screen and yet Dimple felt born anew. Months ago, cradling a candle in her hands, this was what she had wished for. It was so much better than she could’ve imagined.
Someone nudged her from her left. Priyal, sniffling and laughing. It took Dimple a moment to realize why she’d been alerted. The rest ofInsomnia’s cast and crew were standing, looking out over the crowd. The ringing in her ears cut out, replaced by thunderous applause.
Dimple shot to her feet. Hundreds of faces stared back at her when she scanned the audience. The whole theater was on their feet, facing her as they clapped. Her lungs felt too big for her body, her heart an endless abyss. Her palms pressed together on autopilot, giving the audience thanks. Bright camera flashes. The shutter of a lens. She couldn’t recall if she’d remembered to smile. Only when she registered that her cheeks hurt did she realize she’d been doing it all along.
Small fractions of her soul scattered across the theater, taken into the audience’s memories. How this movie made them feel, theatmosphere, maybe even Dimple herself. Even if she died tomorrow, she would live on through them.
When Dimple turned to her left, Saffi was already looking back at her, eyes ablaze. She gave Dimple a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Something loosened in Dimple’s chest. She could’ve sworn the applause only intensified after that.
It was unclear how long she stood for, but it was enough for her legs to turn to jelly. Dimple could remember standing and knew that she was sitting again now, but had no recollection of what had happened in between.
She blinked and an announcer was walking onto the stage. Another blink and Jerome Bardoux was beckoned to join him. It was the first time Dimple came to realize that the director was a bit of an actor in his own regard. The persona he put on now was in stark difference to that of on set. Barked orders and frowns replaced with fake laughter and over-politeness. Dimple saw Shyla shake her head in her periphery.
Even as Jerome began explaining the process of creating the movie, Dimple felt the scrutiny of a hundred people fixed on her. This time, she knew it stemmed from more than her anxiety. She tried her best to keep her expression frozen in place.
Her co-lead’s name, shouted out by an audience member in the form of a question, broke Dimple abruptly from her trance.
“Why hasn’t Chris Porter joined the cast for promotions? After all the work he’s done to recover from his addiction, it would be nice to see some support from his co-stars instead of outright shunning.”
Dimple’s head snapped up and she scanned the audience for the culprit, but came back empty-handed. She did, however, notice several cameras trained on her.
She immediately turned back around. A hundred ants crawled across her skin. Dimple clenched her fists in her lap, barely able to keep from shaking.
Money, it seemed, solved all the world’s problems. The producers throwing away box office proceeds. Chris employing people to start a foundation on his behalf. Just like that, it became everyone else who was the issue.
Onstage, Jerome’s facade broke. He couldn’t speak and began picking so harshly at his fingernail, he must’ve drawn blood. He always seemed like such a natural on set, it hadn’t registered to Dimple before now that he too was new to all of this.Keep it together,she tried to convey to him. Every single one of the cast straightened and adopted a poker face. With a glance in their direction, Jerome mirrored them. Hopefully no one else had been studying him close enough to notice the lapse.
“We are all very proud of Chris,” Jerome said carefully. Dimple got the feeling that the public relations team had helped him with this statement beforehand. “I’m sure you’ve seen how vocal he has been about the rest of the team working with him behind the scenes to get him the support he needs. And as you know, a portion of box office sales will be going toward the foundation Chris created in order to help victims of DUIs.”
“But what about the rest of the cast? Like Dimple Kapoor. Weren’t they dating? Why hasn’t she made a single statement about the situation? It really says a lot about—”
The volunteer was finally able to wrench the microphone away. “Next question,” they said breathlessly, cueing a few awkward chuckles from audience members.
