A budding writer with a bunch of ingenious rebels risk their lives to try and overthrow an oppressive government to earn back their liberty of expression. They need to unify and put aside their differences, interests and pasts, and race against time...
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ALIZEH
"Oh, you poor thing. What happened to you?" an unknown lady received her at the doorway of her employer's house. The driver threw her a mock salute and sped off into the dark.
"I need some water," Alizeh whispered hoarsely. The shock of the night was finally dawning on her. She felt a coldness pressing down on her chest. Being brought up in a life of luxuries and bodyguards, these kinds of hassles, the con and the bad men, the gangs and the kidnappings hadn't been a part of her life. Slowly she was beginning to realise how naïve she was and how shielded she had been from all the dark.
The woman who introduced herself as Lydia, brought her a glass of fresh juice and informed that the mistress will be coming soon and that she had been really tensed.
"Alizeh is it then?" a familiar voice sounded at the other end of the room. A lady stood at the doorway, dressed in a pastel blue formal skirt suit. She had gorgeous skin like ground coffee and her luxurious hair was flowing below her waist in swathes of onyx cloud. Alizeh stood up abruptly, lowering her gaze, not willing to look like she was ogling.
"Arya Chakraborty," she extended her hands, "I heard you got kidnapped. I'm so sorry but these things happen around here really often."
They said Arya was panicking? There was no evidence of panic in her voice. It was cool and composed, just a tad bit concerned maybe. And she seemed used to the kidnapping thing.
"I know, ma'am. Actually it's my first time out in this situation," Alizeh blurted, fidgeting with her arms, extending them slightly as they shook hands, "Gimme a few seconds and I'll pull myself through."
She'd never know what would anger her employer.
"Aaa, Alizeh, we're employers, not barbarians. You take rest and meet me tomorrow then," Arya voice softened.
"Thank you, lady!" Alizeh finally glanced up at her. A jolt ran through her. She knew those eyes. Dark muddy brown like melting pools of chocolate.
"Someone will guide you through your itinerary," Arya's eyes moved to the door, seeing but not seeing.
The word came to Alizeh quickly enough. "Squint eyes," she mumbled.
"What?" Arya's head whipped towards her.
"I'm not working for a gangster," Alizeh got up from the chair.
"Sit down," Arya's voice was cold as ice. Alizeh dithered whether to run out from the door.
"Sit your ass down, lady," her employer's voice was now pure command. It wasn't Arya anymore. It was her alter ego — Lady A.
She got up from her place and slammed the door shut. Alizeh shuddered like a twig caught in a storm. She had angered the mafia boss. She'll probably take out her gun and shoot Alizeh at point-blank.
