Dil Beparwah | ✔

Bonus ▪︎ 2.2 | Frayed Edges

||BONUS 2.2||
《¤》

┊A R V I K A┊

Arnav unbuckled his seat belt and rushed to open the back door. "They are proposing the name Lil' Rey. Can you believe it?"

I handed the keys to the valet and waited for him to carry said Lil' Rey towards the portico. Flashes went off to capture the father-son duo striding towards Graphique. His patience had stretched over the eight months of being a Bollywood Husband. He could now adorn the reporters with a soft, stern curve of his lips.

"Hey, you should be proud. Your son will be founding a new genre of music," I teased with a flourish of hands. "Wail sound."

Cradling our sweet Lil' Rey in his arms, my brother pressed the elevator button. "You should have seen those talent agency people. Kaafi serious thhe woh isko leke. Keh rahe thhe YouTube aur Instagram bhi shuru karwa do, film auditions ki kabhi zarurat hi nahi padegi. Crazy, bloody crazy those agents are."

Son of Bollywood's brightest diva, Reyansh Arnav Deewan was a subject of adoration and business for the media. With his big, dreamy eyes that didn't hesitate on watering to get what he wanted, cheeks ultra-squishy, and lips always curled upwards in a mischievous little smile, my nephew had stolen hearts from the second he was born.

That's not to say that I had made complete peace with the fact that Arnav was stepping into a position he could have easily walked out of. The past eight months had converted him from a nomadic photographer slash bachelor dude to a doting father. Arohi had dived back into her work recently—and it wasn't that that bothered me. There were nannies to take care of her baby.

But Arnav on the other hand had taken it upon himself to get familiar with the baby chores. In fact, his t-shirt reeked of baby puke earlier this morning, when I announced my arrival.

"Arohi ka kya kehena hai?" I asked as the elevator dinged to a stop.

"Usne Instagram ke liye haami bhari hai. Says that will work for both of us because Instagram is lower maintenance than YouTube and other media, aur waise bhi aaj nahi toh kal Reyansh ko exposure milna hi hai. Par yaar... commanding our son's future is the last thing we should do."

Disapproval was clear in his tone. The baby gurgled and shot a spitty grin my way. He enjoyed company, and knew when people were talking about him. Arnav shifted him to his left arm. In his lilac onesie, Reyansh observed the newly installed pieces.

One in particular had us standing in front of it longer than the others. Rusted coins balanced together to form a figurine. The theme went over me. Arnav hunching over to take a closer look was the only indication for me that it might have any artistic value.

I pulled my phone out to sift through notifications of lesser significance. A preponed visit to Delhi left a heavy load of work in it's wake. Varun's reality check knocked a lot of things out of place.

It's not like we're married or anything, Vika.

His words rang in my ear like an upsetting reminder. After all, was a wedding a necessity for me to count his family in for celebrations? And if it was a necessity, where were we headed?

I did not want to presume roles here. Our relationship didn't originate out of ideal circumstances. But when it came to the future, I knew I wanted him in mine. So, why did Varun evade my question like he had never given it any thought before?