Amour Vindicatif : Love Of The Callous Hearts

2. A GLIMPSE OF HIM

As his figure emerged through the exit, a middle aged man rushed towards him, with a bunch of papers in his hands.

"Where are you going? The show is not over yet." The man interrogated, tensed.

"It is for me." Replied he, with plain apathy in his voice as well as his deep set eyes.

"But you cannot do this to me, RK! If this show fails to emerge as a hit then I'll be ruined." He somewhat yelled, as sweat droplets began to form on his forehead.

RK titled his head, lifting a finger in the air, causing the man to shut his mouth.

"Your work is done, Mister Singh. I had been paid for just one song..."

"But the people are asking for more! Is money all you care about? I'll pay you more then. Just don't go like this." The man hyperventilated.

"I'm not done yet." Said RK, gritting his teeth, folding his outstretched finger, making him flinch.

"So... I have done my work. And I work according to my desires, not a crowd. And money..." He trailed off, laughing. "....money is something people like you run behind. I believe in taking it's lead. And you don't have so much of money, Mister Singh, that you can afford to buy RK's time." He said, before moving his steps, only to move backwards once again, stopping right in front of the tensed man.

"And now regarding your career issues. Don't worry. This concert will be the biggest moment of your life. RK's few minutes are enough to spread his charm. For music might be a business to you, for me, it's my life. And the few minutes spent there are enough to last for a lifetime in the wretched hearts of your 'crowd'". He said, quoting the last word with his fingers raised in the air, before giving a hard glare to the scared man, patting his shoulders, and striding off, never to look back at him again.

The poor man stared at his retreating figure with fear shining in the form of sweat droplets on his face, as he wiped them continuously with his plain handkerchief. However, even he knew how correct RK's each and every word had been.

"People are right. You are...you." Said the producer, with the satisfaction of embracing a success in his heart, mixed with the recent uncomfortable memory of his contact with the rarely approachable singer. He continued to stare at his departing figure, till he was successfully shielded by the backs of two pairs of men, their strong physique covered in black, who had been standing in pairs on either side of the back door since the beginning, and were now following him silently with four different types of rifles carried on their shoulders, as he stepped out.

Coming to a halt once out of the back door, he turned his head slightly, turning to his side. His peripheral vision landed on one of the armed men behind him, as he lifted his hand in the air, before shaking his fingers twice, signalling the bodyguards to move from their. They nodded, obeying him silently.

As the crowd around him finally got replaced by the presence of the soothing silence, he closed his eyes, placing his hands on his waist, filling his lungs with as much of air as he could. RK stood there silently, lost in the covers of the dark and peaceful blanket around him, breathing evenly, a million thoughts roaming his mind. His trance was broken by some excited noises, as he tilted his slightly bent head sideways in the direction from which the synchronised voices of the screaming crowd yelling his name could still be heard. A smirk formed on his lips, eyes staring in the far off direction.

A young man suddenly trotted towards him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Amazing as ever, bro! The charm of your voice has still covered the hearts of everyone. Hear those screams?" Beamed the man with exhilaration.