Chapter : 3 The Arrival

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The Arrival

The airport is packed with paparazzi, something he hates with passion, but then again he hates everything with passion. The glass of his car never slid down. He sees Purnit and Leo managing the crowd outside. The car moves ahead leaving the crowd behind him. His grey eyes keep staring out of the window as he closes them and enjoys the familiar smell of his country. The country he missed with every bit of him, but the increasing heartbeat, the suffocation and the ache growing deep within him, reminds him why he left at the first place.

Why he left his country, why he left his family, why he left his home and why he left his name.

His name....

He forgot how it sounded like.
He forgot how it felt to be a Nagpati.

¤¤¤¤¤

It takes them some two hours to reach the penthouse that has been booked for the period of Vulcan's stay here

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It takes them some two hours to reach the penthouse that has been booked for the period of Vulcan's stay here. He is not planning to prolong his stay any further than what is necessary. The moment he enters his penthouse he starts feeling better. Leo, certainly knows him better than anyone because he has selected the perfect stay for him. Gloomy, dark, devoid of light, devoid of warmth. Coldness comforts him. It heals his pain that has stayed with him for so many years.

His equipments have already been moved to the studio that's on the floor above. He gets inside the room, places his backpack on the table and starts walking towards the washroom while unclasping his wrist watch.

 He gets inside the room, places his backpack on the table and starts walking towards the washroom while unclasping his wrist watch

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He discards his suit and shirt on the couch outside the washroom, revealing his sculpted body. Tattoos covering the left half of it. He enters inside and stands infront of the mirror looking at himself. If the happy, old, Manik Raj Nagpati, saw him today, he would've fainted. Tattoos? Long hair? Beard? Gross!

But now he is not that anymore, he is not Manik anymore. Everything that gives him external pain, everything that distracts him from the daily torture he goes through, is a blessing for him now. He unties his hair, his once short hair now almost reaches his shoulder and his once clean shaved face now has a beard. Because he feels too tired to do anything with them. Turning the tap on, he splashes some water on his face, wetting his hair in the process. Entangling his fingers within, he pushes his hair back, holding his head like that as his eyes remain close, and when he opens them, they are teary and bloodshot.

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