Next day, Srinath and Anjali met Marivel at the same hotel. He was waiting for them. When they enter the room it was Srinath who closed the door. Marivel felt happy that they feel safe with him. Marivel started talking, “How was it, Amma? Everything doing good?”
“Yes sir, things are great. We don’t know how to thank you for such a opportunity.” Anjali said
“That’s not a problem, Amma. Did you watch the movie?” Marivel asked.
“Yes, we had booked the very first show. And a lot of time I was looking at the audience to see their reactions. Happy to say this, you really captured her beauty on camera.” Srinath said with immense joy.
“Happy to hear that son, it’s all thanks to her beauty. I don’t have to put any effort to capture her beauty.” Told Marivel, Anjali blushed and Srinath felt so proud. Then Marivel continued, “So, why did you call me? Do you want to work with me for the next project?”
“Yes sir, we do. But we know we can’t rely for you everytime. We came here to ask for your guidance. I want to make her a superstar.” Srinath said in a firm voice.
Marivel looked at them with surprise. He thought the timid Anjali would stop working in movies and become a housewife or something. But their determination in their eyes convinced him that they are serious. Knowing that her talent is not going to waste he told them in a serious voice, “I’m happy to hear that. But out there, it’s a like the survival of the fittest. You have to be ruthless, cunning, and also I’m sad to say this, you have to compromise for the fame and fortune.” Realising what he meant, Srinath looked at Anjali, he could sense the fear but also the determination.
Going back the previous night, when the child was asleep, Srinath and Anjali were sitting on the sofa, recollecting and talking about the movie and their future plan, Srinath said, “people really loved that romantic song…”
“Yeah, it’s a beautiful song.” Anjali said.
“No, that’s not what I mean. People liked the song because you were really hot in it.” Srinath corrected.
“Oh, Sri…” Anjali blushed.
“It’s true, when I went to the toilet at the interval time, some of them were talking about that romantic song, a guy even said he would watch the movie just for that song.” Srinath said.
“Really? But I haven’t exposed that much in that song unlike the fast one, it showed most of my skin.” Anjali was confused.
“The skin show is nothing, it’s the feel. Eventhough you showed more skin in that dance number, the way they shot the romantic song is different. It was more sensual, the camera placement, the dance moves the costumes, everything was intentional to make the viewers feel horny.” Srinath explained.
“Eww, Sri…” Anjali felt a repulsion.
“Hey, I was just stating the truth. The director was known as the saree expert among the fans. His previous movies had similar sensual saree songs.”
Anjali said nothing, she felt happiness and embarrassment.
“So, I never asked you this, I just want to know something…” Srinath said.
“What is it, Sri?” She asked.
“What did you feel about showing that much skin?” His voice turned more serious.
“I don’t know, it was a mix of emotions. Embarrassment, shame, but also happiness in a weird way.” She said.
“Please clarify that. Shame and happiness?” He asked.
“I can’t accurately explain that in words, but felt so embarrassed to stand infront of a lot of people and show that much skin. But also the way they looked at me, to be the centre of attention and the look of admiration felt so good.” Eventhough she tried to explain as much she can he could feel what she was feeling through her eyes.
“You know why you are the centre of attention?” He asked.
“Perhaps my looks?” She answered.
“That too, also your beautiful belly and perfect navel.” He said.
“Why? Is it that good?” She knows she has a beautiful navel, but she has the power to make every man’s heart skip a beat with her navel.
“Oh, my love… Perfect is an understatement. You saw the reactions, right? Everyone loved your navel.” He said.
“Yeah, I thought so, I like the attention but the intense staring on my navel…”She expressed her dislike.
“Don’t worry about it, you are a celebrity now. Chances of you getting assaulted is minimum.” He said it in a casual tone.
“That’s not a helping word.” She didn’t like his reply.
“Sorry, I mean, let them stare, what can they do?” He clarified.
“But that’s the problem. It’s really uncomfortable.” She said.
“But you liked it when I stared at your navel.”
“That’s because you are my dear husband, my body is for yours to see, touch and feel.”
“I agree with the feel thing, but you are an actress now, letting others see, and touch is a part of your job now.” He justified.
“What are you implying? You want me to continue working as an actress?” She asked to know what was in his mind.
“I want you, but to be honest, it’s more than that.” He said.
“What are you talking about, Sri? I thought this salary I got was enough to have a normal stress free life.” She asked confusingly.
“Money was good. But it’s something else, I wish I could see you become a super star.” He told his dream.
“Oh, come on, Sri. Those are unreachable places I cannot even come close to. Getting this movie opportunity was a luck, but I’m sure this won’t happen next time.” She said.
“That’s why we need help and connections from the inside. I have a few plans…” He said that enthusiastically.
“What plans? What are you scheming, Sri?” She asked suspiciously.
“First, let’s talk with Marivel sir. Ask him to recommend you to some other reputed directors for their upcoming movies.” He said proudly.
“What if that director wants me to sleep with him? What then?” Her anger was evident from her tone.
“I don’t want you to do it. But if we continue to work in this industry, eventually that question will be asked.” He said in a sad manner.
“I know that, but is it worth it? We have enough money now. And you have a good job.” She understood that he wants a good future for them. She continued,
“Hypothetically, let’s say I compromised with other directors and became a super star, what happens when someone discovers that I’m a mother? Then it’s all over.” She tries to reason with him.
“I know, that’s why we need someone from inside, who knows how things work inside. Someone who will help us.” He said.
“Who? Who wants to help us? And don’t tell me you are okey with me sleeping with others.” She asked.
He didn’t say anything, he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Anjali, knowing well what his expressions meant asked him,
“What is it Sri? What are you not telling me?”
He looked at her, her angelic face and the way she looked at him malted his heart. He couldn’t hold it back. he said,
“Truth to be told, I want to see you showing your navel on the big screen. It made me happy, proud and shamelessly horny.” He confessed his secret while looking down having no courage to look at her face. Shocked, she looked at him for a moment, she thought about what made him think like this.
“I can’t be angry with you, Sri. I know you want me to look sexy. I don’t find it weird, but think about it. Don’t you feel angry or ashamed when horny men look at me?” She asked her paused for a moment.
“Yes, but those feelings get overpowered by happiness.” He confessed his feelings he said that without looking at her due to shame.
“What about our son, Sri? We were talking about us but think about him, what will he feel when he sees his mother doing such acts on screen? I know we did one movie, but I’m sure that in the future people will forget it. And nobody would believe that actress is me. That’s what I was planning. That’s what I thought.” Again Srinath was speechless, she continued.
“Even if we keep acting in movies, how long can we keep the secret that I’m a wife and a mother? We will be living in lies. Sooner or later everything will be revealed.”
He thought for a moment and looked at her and said “I know that was selfish of me to say that, but look at us now. A few months ago we were living in a hut, now we have a decent home in a safe area, we could afford a healthy meal. We could afford more if you keep doing movies. We can give a happy future to our son. Back when I tied the knot, I dreamt of giving you all the happiness and comfort more than your family gave. But with my simple job, i couldn’t even give the fraction of what your family had given. Remember how difficult our financial situations were when you were pregnant? But if that’s what you want I’m okay with it. We will face life together.”
His words struck her hard. She remembered how exhausted he looked back when she just gave birth to her son. Srinath never told her how much he worked to get the money. But she knew he poured his blood and sweat. Those were difficult times for both of them. She thought, what if they face a similar situation? Who will help them?
You can’t be sure that his friends will help them forever. But to eliminate all the worst case scenarios, they need money. A lot of them to be exact. Right now acting is the only way to achieve that. She thought deeply for a few minutes and looked at Srinath and said, “I’ll do it.” Her words woke him up from his thoughts.
“What?” He asked.
“I’ll act in movies, not for fame but for our son’s future and for our happiness.” She said with a grin look.
“Really? Think carefully, Anju. We are talking about the huge risk. If you have to work in this industry, you have to do things that can shatter our life.” He tried to sway her away from it after hearing her words before.
“I know, I have to show my body infront of the camera, kiss the actors, or worse, sleep with someone for opportunities. I know that. But if it gives us a happy life, as long as you and our son are with me, I can endure those hard times.” She said that in a firm tone. Her determination can be seen on her face. He felt bad, but accepted her choice.
“I’ll be there for you with our son. But right now I feel like a bad husband…” He expressed his sadness.
“You are not, you are the greatest husband a wife could ask for.” She hugged him and kissed. A drop of tear rolled from her eyes.
Back to the present, Marivel looked at them, and said “Amma, talent alone won’t give you opportunities, it’s about connections. You should make everyone happy with money and your body. I don’t find it immoral but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I won’t blame you or pursue you, this is your choice, and you will be the only one who is going to face consequences. In this industry, a man can even keep doing hero roles even if he reaches his 60s, but for a woman, when she reaches 30, it’s game over. It’s really hard to play the same game after that age.” His advice was obvious and both Srinath and Anjali were determined.
“We know, sir.” She said.
“You will face a much more difficult path, you have to keep the secret of being a mother.” He reminded her.
“We discussed everything together, and I want to do this, sir.” She replied.
“Okay then, what should I do for you?” Marivel asked.
“Like you said, we like to make some connections. And someone to help us. Someone who knows this industry, and understands the real intentions from a person’s words.” Srinath said.
Marivel thought for a moment, he was sorting through the suitable names in his mind. Then his face lit up, “I know a person, she’s cunning, ambitious, and more over she knows how to read a person just by looking at him. She have a few connections in the industry, and surprisingly she’s just 25 years old. She will help you to reach the top, as long as you listen to her advice.” Marivel said.
“Who is she?” Srinath asked.
“Radhika, Radhika Balachander. She’s a kannadiga. She used to be the personal secretary of actress, let’s say former actress Divya. You know the actress Divya, right?” Marivel said
“No, sir.” Anjali said.
“Divya was a Telugu actress, she became a sensation within a year but fell down quickly. It was Radhika’s works which helped Divya achieve that much fame in a short span.” Marivel said.
“What happened to the actress? Will that happen to us?” Srinath was concerned.
“What happened to Divya was her own arrogance, she was drunk on fame and fired Radhika thinking she learned everything from her. But what made her downfall was her own doings. If you listen to her, that will not happen to you.” Marivel assured.
“But what happened to the actress?” Srinath asked.
“Well, she slept with someone and got caught in a police raid red handed. The media celebrated her arrest. This happened after she fired her secretary.” He said.
“Will she work for us?” Anjali asked.
“If she sees potential in you, then surely she will.” He said
“Can you help us connect with her, sir?” Srinath asked.
“Sure, she’s in Chennai as we speak. Let me call her…” He said and took his phone and talked in a corner, meanwhile Srinath and Anjali looked at each other in anticipation.
Marivel came back and sat infront of them.
“Do you have one hour to wait, she will be here.” He asked..
Sri and Anjali nodded. They waited for her, that time, Marivel ordered food for them. After the meal, they were talking about how the movie industry works, a bell rang.
“Oh, it must be her.” Marivel opened the door. A tall woman stood infront of him, she had a fair skin and an oval face, her thick straight hair was tied in a pony tail. She was wearing a white shirt and dark grey pants. She looks like a typical corporate employee.
“Hai, sir. How are you?” She greeted him in a formal way. Her tone sounds confident yet too artificial.
“All is great… Come inside…” He welcomed her.
When she came inside, both Anjali and Srinath stood up, and greeted her.
“Radhika, let me introduce you to Anjali, or we should call her Ascharya Menon. This is her husband, Srinath and That’s their son, Aditya, right?” Marivel introduced them to her.
Radhika knew who Ascharya was but didn’t know it was her stage name. But clearly she didn’t know that the actress Ascharya is married and has a son. She looked shocked, “Wow, you are a wife and a mother?” She then looked at Marivel and asked, “Who else knows her secret?”
“Me, producer Kani and scriptwriter Ganesh.”
“Hmm… I believe you want me to become her manager, right?”
“Yes, that’s why I called you.”
She came infront of Anjali face to face. Anjali was slightly shorter than her.
“I haven’t introduced properly, I’m Radhika Balachander. Pleasure to meet you.” She greeted.
Anjali just smiled. “Hai I’m Anjali. Nice to meet you.” Radhika looked at Srinath and gave her hands for a handshake. He shook her hands and also introduced himself.
“So, you want to become a top actress right?” Radhika asked.
“Yes.” Anjali said.
“Impossible. You will never reach that goal.” Radhika’s ruthless reply shocked both Srinath and Anjali but Marivel was expecting such words from her.
“You are a shy, timid person. You just did a movie out of desperation not ambition. There are plenty of girls out there, young, single and ready to do anything for the break role. Do you think you can survive such harsh competition?” Her words were sharp and on point. Both Srinath and Anjali were speechless.
“I am willing to do anything…” Anjali said. Her fiery eyes showed something more ambition. She looked at Srinath, he had a courageous face, ready to face anything. Radhika sighs.
“I will help you, but it will be difficult, really really difficult.” Their face lit up, Marivel felt happy, he thought to himself, she will conquer the entire southern movie industries.
They went to their apartment room, before leaving Anjali hugged Marivel. He felt so happy to get such a warm innocent hug. They reached their apartment and after feeding the baby Radhika began asking about their life and how they ended up here. They explained everything, from their childhood to their current situations. After hearing it, Radhika said, “tough, really tough. We need to change your past. Make something up to cover your tracks and make a fake story.” Srinath and Anjali looked each other for a second. He asked, “What’s the solution?”
“I know a person in the press, you will give her an interview and we will make a fake narrative. Don’t worry, all the questions will be prepared in advance.” She said.
“What will my parents find out? So far they haven’t come for me yet.” Anjali expressed her concern.
“Then we have to settle them, with cash or through other means. We need to make some fake documents, like a fake college admission register.” Radhika said while thinking deeply.
“Why?” Srinath asked.
“Here is my plan, there is no Anjali, for the public it’s Ascharya Menon. Ascharya 19 years old single girl who came from Kerala for her education but was accidentally found by the director Marivel. After agreeing to do movies without the permission from her parents she decided to stick to acting since she thinks it’s her call. And to help, her widower cousin is currently with her as her manager.” Both Srinath and Anjali were impressed by the story she cooked up.
“What if my family comes for me and exposes these lies?” Anjali was still scarred of her parents.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. But you may have to spend some cash.” Radhika said
“How much?” Srinath asked.
“Depends, it’s either a lifetime settlement with a huge amount of annual pay in a fixed rate. Do you think your family will shut their mouth if you give them a huge sum of money?” She explained and asked Anjali.
“I don’t know, my father might agree but I’m not sure about my mother.” Anjali said.
“Then I’ll take care of it. Now let’s prepare for the interview.”
Radhika prepared and wrote down the story of Ascharya and gave it to her to study. She also prepared the possible questions and answers for the interview. Radhika also advised her to say that she got inspiration from yester year glam actresses and wants to become like them.
The next day the journalist arrived at the hotel Srinath worked as prepared. She was a woman in her late 20s. In the restaurant area they sat together and conducted the interview. Radhika was sitting on the nearby table she was listening to the interview ready to intervene if it goes off rail.
Things were going smoothly like planned, but the interviewer asked her something different than they planned, “So, Ascharya, your first movie was with Marivel, who is known for making eye candy. He is famous for showing the close up navels of actresses. He captured your navel too. As a rookie, don’t you find it embarrassing or uncomfortable?”
This sudden change in the flow made her shocked and she was speechless for a moment, she looked at Radhika, hoping to get a help from her. But she didn’t say anything, Radhika wanted her to learn how unpredictable and sensational hungry these journalists are. She gave a hand gesture to keep calm and speak. Ascharya knew she have to be witty and cunning with her words. She cannot say anything bad about the director or cannot double down on the topic otherwise she will appear like a try hard.
Keeping calm, she began her reply, “Ofcourse, that was the first time I’ve ever worn something sexy. But that doesn’t mean it was uncomfortable. See Marivel sir is a veteran, he knew what he was doing. Reading the script I knew a bit of glam quotient was necessary for that role. He really helped me to ease up for the role and made me look beautiful on screen.” She replied strategically.
Not satisfied by the most diplomatic reply the journalist asked, “Do you believe women are getting sidelined as just an eyecandy?”
“I don’t think so, the industry works in a suppy and demand way. The people wanted to see the hero’s masculine actions and the heroines feminine beauty. Even female audience prefer to see the heroine in a most feminine way. When the taste of people change, so does type movies and characters. Until then the industry will make what the people wanted.” Ascharya said in a firm voice.
Radhika was impressed by her reply while the journalist disappointed that she didn’t reply anything controversial. Then the interview ended without any hitch. Before parting away, Radhika warned the journalist that if their newspaper publish anything that Ascharya not said, they will sue them. She was recording their conversation in her brand new sony ericsson phone. Then they waited, her interview was published in a Sunday supplement and it had several of her hot photos taken from the movie promotion.
That same day Radhika got a call from a TV channel for Ascharya’s interview. Again, Radhika taught her everything and she did the interview without any hickups. Thanks to Radhika, Srinath could look after the child and go to work. While he was learning a lot from Radhika, he was thinking about how to use the money left from her acting job more efficiently. He has a lot of plans in his mind. Nothing happened for a month. Srinath went for his job and Anjali looked after their child. A month has passed Marivel called Anjali, she was in her home and and luckily Radhika was with her at that time.
“Hello, Amma. Saukhyamaa?”
“Romba saukhyam, sir.”
“I called you to inform you that I recommended you to one of my friends. His name is Ramaswami. He is looking for a heroine in his next film. I’ll give you his number. But be careful, unlike me, he will conduct an audition for you. Radhika knows what kind of audition. She will teach you everything for that audition. Good luck.”
“Thank you sir.” She said it with great respect.
“What is it?” Radhika asked.
“It was Marivel sir. He recommended me to his friend, someone named Ramaswami.”
Anjali said with a huge delight
“The Ramaswami?” Radhika was surprised.
“Yeah, that what he said.” Anjali said not knowing who Ramaswami is.
“Do you know who Ramaswami is?” Radhika asked whether Anjali knew him or not.
“No, I don’t know.” Anjali innocently said, actually not knowing the guy is.
“Ramaswami is one of the best directors in the Tamil industry. Marivel sir gave you the opportunity of a lifetime. Damn, you lucky bitch.” Radhika said it with a joy.
Anjali, who is too innocent wasn’t happy to be called bitch.
“So rude, Radhika.” She expressed her dislike.
“Soorry, I was really surprised and shocked. I didn’t think about what I said. Leave it… Focus on your new project.” Radhika apologized.
“So then, tell me about him. Marivel sir said I have to go through an audition. He said you know what kind of audition.” She said.
“Oh, shit. Damn…” Radhika was shocked to hear Anjali’s reply.
“What is it?” Anjali was concerned.
“What Marivel sir meant is that you have to go through an audition that will take place in a bedroom.” Radhika said with a serious tone.
“Oh, no…” Anjali understood what she meant. She was shocked.
“You not only have to go through the casting couch but you have to impress him with your skills in the bedroom.” Radhika clarified.
Anjali was speechless. What they have discussed came sooner. She said, “I have to call Sri.” She called Srinath,
“Hey, baby… What is it?” Srinath attended the call with a normal tone.
“Sri, we need to talk in person. I got a call from Marivel sir, he said he recommended me to his director friend for another project.” She said with a serious tone.
“Wow, that’s good news. But anything wrong, baby? You don’t sound excited.” Srinath detected the lack of happiness from her voice.
“What we discussed came…” Anjali said
Srinath knew what she meant. He paused for a moment and said,
“Hmm, let me come home, call Radhika.”
“She’s here, I want to talk to you about this.”
“I’ll come home as soon as possible”
He arrived earlier than his usual time.
After listening to everything in silence, Srinath turned his gaze toward Anjali. She stood there wordless, a faint melancholy clouding her eyes. He stepped closer, voice soft and steady.
“Look, I don’t want you to do it. But we discussed this before. Even if you are not interested, let’s leave it. We can leave everything behind…” He poured out those reassuring words, believing her quietness came from hesitation, from lack of desire.
But Anjali looked up, voice small yet clear.
“It’s alright, dear. But Radhika said I have to be skillful in bed. You know I’m not. How can I satisfy him in bed?”
Her real worry — so innocent, so earnest — caught both Srinath and Radhika off guard. A surprised chuckle escaped them almost at the same moment, lightening the heavy air.
Radhika reached out, her smile brimming with warm confidence.
“You don’t have to be worried. I can teach you. Lucky you, you have a husband which makes everything easy.”
“What do you mean?” Anjali asked, tilting her head slightly, eyes wide with innocent wonder.
“I know how to make any man kneel with pleasure. I’ll teach you, Anjali. You have to practice that with Srinath,” Radhika replied, her voice carrying the proud, almost boastful lilt of someone who had long mastered the art.
“Okey, I’m intrigued,” Srinath murmured, a spark of mischief and genuine curiosity flickering across his face.
“Hold your horses, young man. This is between us girls,” Radhika shot back with a teasing laugh, raising a hand to gently but firmly block his playful advance.
Srinath’s shoulders slumped for a fleeting second in mock disappointment, yet the corners of his mouth still curved upward — quietly thrilled at the thought of Anjali soon awakening into a woman who could command every shiver and sigh.
Anjali and Srinath had always shared a fairly happy, unhurried sex life. Neither had secret techniques or benchmarks to chase. They had simply met each other in the dark, learning through soft touches, patient kisses, and honest laughter. And in that gentle, unadorned rhythm, both had found a deep and steady satisfaction.
To the outside world, their intimacy appeared perfectly vanilla — plain, predictable, almost ordinary. But inside those quiet nights, it was theirs alone, warm and complete.
Both Radhika and Anjali slipped quietly into the other room, closing the door behind them like a secret sealed in silk.
There, under Radhika’s patient, knowing gaze, Anjali drank in lessons she had never imagined hearing aloud. At first, a deep flush of embarrassment burned across her cheeks with every whispered word, every bold description of touch and rhythm. Yet time pressed against them, relentless and unforgiving, so she pushed past the shame and listened with fierce determination. Theory, after all, is a distant echo — cool and safe — while the body’s truth only awakens in practice.
That truth arrived later that night, when she turned every new secret toward Srinath. What had felt impossible in words became clumsy, then tentative, then suddenly electric beneath his encouraging hands. With his steady warmth and Radhika’s lingering advice echoing in her mind, Anjali blossomed day by day, gathering confidence like petals opening to the sun. In just a handful of nights, she had learned more of her own desire — and his — than years had ever taught her.
And then the day arrived.
She stepped toward Ramaswamy’s private villa, heart drumming beneath her calm exterior. The appointment had been arranged swiftly through his secretary, thanks to Radhika’s quiet influence and the magic phrase: “Director Marivel recommended her.” The moment those words reached the secretary’s ears, the date was pulled forward without hesitation.
It had been time enough — barely — for Anjali to taste the deeper pleasures of flesh, to feel her body remember what her mind had only just begun to understand.
That evening, Radhika and Srinath walked beside her to the villa’s gates, silent pillars of support. When they rang the bell, the secretary appeared, courteous and composed, ushering them inside with a small bow.
Moments later, Ramaswamy emerged from an inner room, phone still pressed to his ear, voice low and clipped in conversation. He crossed the threshold without glancing up at first, absorbed in whatever world the call held. Only when the line went silent did he finally lift his eyes.
They settled on Anjali — or rather, on Ascharya, the name she carried for this night. A slow glow kindled in his gaze, warm and unmistakably pleased. She stepped forward with practiced grace.
“Radhika is my manager,” she said smoothly, gesturing to the woman at her side. Then, with a small, hidden pang, “And this is Srinath, my cousin.”
The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, even though both Marivel and Radhika had insisted upon it. Still, she spoke it clearly, protecting the fragile boundary they had drawn around this encounter.
Ramaswamy’s eyes glowed brighter, happiness flickering openly across his face as he took her in. Just one glance was enough. Ramaswamy stood transfixed, utterly mesmerised by her presence. In that instant, he realised Marivel’s camera had barely skimmed the surface of her true beauty — it had failed to capture the living glow, the quiet fire that radiated from her now.
He pulled his gaze away with visible effort and spoke, voice warm and unguarded.
“Ascharya, you look so beautiful in person. I’m really surprised Mari didn’t capture your beauty fully.”
“Oh, that’s so flattering, sir. So you have seen my movie,” Ascharya replied, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips.
“Yes, indeed. Specifically that rain song,” he answered, the words curling with a sly, appreciative smirk.
Ascharya understood exactly what he meant. She let the moment hang, answering only with a soft, enigmatic smile.
“So sir, I’m here for the audition that Marivel sir mentioned.”
“Oh, yes yes… Stalin said,” he replied, gesturing toward his secretary before continuing. “I am indeed looking for a new actress. In my last film, the critics were far too harsh with my choice of heroine. By the way, did you see my last film?” Ramaswamy asked.
“No, sir,” Ascharya answered simply.
“Well, I’ll admit — in my last movie, the heroine had limited screen time. I tried to compensate with two item songs. But the critics hated my approach. So this time, both hero and heroine will share scenes almost equally. To make that work, though, I need an actress who isn’t just beautiful — she must be talented, skilled, capable of carrying real emotion.”
“Oh… That’s great, sir,” Ascharya said, her tone polite yet measured.
“Keep in mind, even though it’s a serious movie compared to my previous ones, it will still have strong commercial elements,” Ramaswamy explained.
“Oh, that means more item songs?” Ascharya ventured.
“Not just item songs. More kissing scenes… and I even have plans to include a sex scene.”
“Oh, that’s… That’s bold,” Ascharya murmured, a thread of genuine concern weaving through her voice.
Beside her, both Radhika and Srinath stiffened, visibly shocked.
“Don’t worry, Ascharya. No one will be actually naked during the shoot. It’s just implied sex. And I don’t want the film to get an A-certificate. So everything will stay tasteful, tame,” Ramaswamy assured her quickly.
“Sir, how many item songs are you planning? And how many kissing scenes?” This time it was Radhika who spoke, her voice calm but direct.
“Three item songs — two of them featuring the main heroine. And two kissing scenes,” Ramaswamy replied.
“What about the story? No offense, sir — you’re a hit-making director. I want to be part of a successful project. No matter how small my role, if the story is weak, it could affect my future…” Ascharya said, choosing her words with careful politeness.
“That you don’t have to worry about. It will surely become a huge hit. The plot is simple but gripping: the hero — a cop — protects the heroine while they run from the villain’s goons. She’s the key witness to his crimes and must be escorted safely to court. Of course, romance blooms along the way.”
“Sounds interesting… but three item songs and two kissing scenes in a story like that?” Ascharya asked, confusion flickering in her eyes — how could such a tense, serious premise carry so many commercial flourishes?
Ramaswamy leaned forward slightly, eager to clarify. “One song is the heroine dreaming about the hero — soft, romantic. Another comes when they stop to rest after a long drive. A group of gypsies nearby starts singing and dancing; the heroine gets drawn in, they dress her in their traditional attire, and the song unfolds. The third is set in the villain’s hideout — that one features a different actress.”
“And you haven’t said anything about the kissing scenes yet,” Ascharya gently reminded him, her gaze steady.
“Oh, sorry. The first kissing scene comes right before the interval—when the hero dramatically saves her from the clutches of the goons. And the final one, just before the climax, when the hero fearlessly walks straight into the villain’s deadly trap.”
“Sir, may I ask… what about the sex scene? How does that fit into all this?” It was Srinath who voiced the question, a little uncertain.
“Thampi,” the director replied with a faint smile, “I plan to place it right before the climax. That tender, intense moment when the hero looks into her eyes, promises her he will return alive, and vows to drag the villain to justice. To seal that sacred promise, he gently ties a mangalsutra around her neck and whispers that no man can ever walk away from his own wife.”
Hearing those words, Srinath cast a hesitant glance towards Anjali. She instantly understood the quiet fear flickering in his eyes. Radhika, catching the silent exchange between them, stepped forward with calm assurance and said,
“Sir, as long as the sex scenes and item songs don’t cross into vulgarity… we are okay with it.”
Both Srinath and Anjali turned to Radhika, a flicker of surprise and mild reproach in their eyes—she had spoken for them without a word of discussion. Before the tension could settle, Ramaswami cut in, his voice laced with dry amusement.
“Oh, hold on. We haven’t even done the audition yet. You think you’ll walk away with the role just because your mentor recommended you?”
The three of them exchanged quick, anxious glances, the same unspoken fear flashing between them: what if Anjali doesn’t get it? Radhika stepped forward without missing a beat. “Sir, I was speaking for her. She’s still a complete rookie in this industry, still finding her feet. But I promise you—once you see her audition, you won’t need to look anywhere else for this role.”
“Oh, you’re that confident?” Ramaswami asked, one eyebrow arched, sarcasm curling at the edges of his tone.
“Yes,” Radhika replied, meeting his gaze squarely, her voice steady and unshaken.
“And not just confident—she will nail the audition. And the role.”
Ramaswami studied her for a long moment. Something in him shifted. He had already watched Ascharya’s earlier film; beyond the undeniable allure she carried so effortlessly, her acting had genuinely surprised him—raw, honest, magnetic. In a fair audition, he was certain she would shine. Yet this manager’s bold interruption, the way she inserted herself so unapologetically into the conversation, grated on him. A quiet irritation bloomed.
He suddenly pictured her becoming an obstacle, a constant thorn if he ever wanted to draw Ascharya closer… into more private territory. The cousin, Srinath, seemed hesitant, unsure—but far less confrontational than this woman. Ramaswami’s mind churned, weighing, calculating.
Then Ascharya’s soft voice broke through the haze of his thoughts. “Sir, when is the audition?” she asked, concern threading gently through her words.
“Tomorrow,” he replied, snapping back to the present. “At the Rivera Hotel. I’ll shortlist the candidates there, and then we’ll have the special round.”
“Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you,” she said, her voice calm, sweet, almost tender.
That quiet sweetness, the innocent earnestness in her eyes—it melted something in him. Ramaswami found himself unexpectedly charmed.
They thanked him again and left.
The next day, Anjali and Radhika arrived at the Rivera Hotel as instructed. Srinath couldn’t join; he had already taken too many days off from work. Anjali filled out the biodata form with slightly trembling fingers. All around her, a long line of girls waited—some clutching the same single sheet of paper, others whispering the lines to themselves. The dialogue was in Tamil. Though Anjali could barely read the script, Radhika sat beside her, patiently guiding her through every word, helping her memorise the rhythm and emotion behind each sentence.
Most girls had come alone. A few were accompanied by parents; some by boyfriends who hovered protectively. One by one, they disappeared behind the door. An hour and a half crawled by before Anjali’s name was finally called.
Radhika squeezed her hand, pouring every ounce of encouragement into that touch. “Go shine.”
Inside the room, a woman and two men sat behind a long table. They asked the usual questions—age, experience, training—then asked her to perform. Anjali began. To her own surprise, the Tamil lines flowed smoothly from her lips, pronunciation crisp and natural. One of the men read the opposite lines in a flat, mechanical monotone, but she didn’t let it dim her fire. She poured her heart into every emotion—the fear, the defiance, the quiet longing—until the final dialogue hung in the air like a held breath.
When she finished, she saw it: their faces had softened, brightened. A spark of genuine appreciation lit their eyes. She knew, deep down, that she would be called back.
Stepping out, she ran straight into Radhika’s arms and hugged her tightly.
“They didn’t say anything outright… but I’m sure. Their faces—they looked so happy after my last line.”
Radhika smiled, a knowing, almost protective smile. “That’s good. Like I told you—this was just the preliminary round. The real test comes next. In the final audition, you’ll be in a sexy costume, opposite a co-actor. He’ll touch you—sometimes inappropriately, sometimes boldly—to see if you cooperate, if you can stay in character without breaking. That’s where they decide.”
She said it matter-of-factly, like an elder sister schooling her younger one in the harsh unwritten rules of the world they had stepped into.
The day slipped away quietly, and when Srinath heard that Anjali had cleared the initial round, a quiet joy lit up his face. The very next morning, they were summoned back to the same hotel for the decisive audition. This time, the hall had been transformed—the long table pushed to a shadowed corner, chairs arranged in a loose semicircle. Both the producer and the director would be present in person, their eyes sharp, ready to judge every flicker of emotion, every breath.
Only five girls remained in the fray, including Anjali. Among them stood another rookie—her presence like a sudden ripple in still water. Radhika leaned close and whispered,
“Anjali, see that girl over there?” Anjali followed her gaze. “That’s actress Shravya. A rookie, just like you.”
The words landed like a cold drop on Anjali’s spine. Another fresh face, another hunger for the same role. Fear crept in, tightening her chest.
“Is she good?” Anjali asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think… she can beat me?”
Radhika studied the worry etched on her face and offered a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, she’s just an okay-ish actress. Nothing to lose sleep over. You’re far better than her. Just trust me, do exactly as I say, and this role will be yours without a fight.”
Her words were meant to soothe, but the seed of intimidation had already taken root. Anjali couldn’t shake the quiet dread that another performer might outshine her in this unforgiving spotlight.
Shravya caught the furtive glances Anjali stole her way. She brushed them aside with practiced nonchalance and returned to murmuring her lines under her breath, just like the others.
Today’s round was different: paired scenes, intimate and demanding. They all waited in the corridor, hearts drumming in uneven rhythms. Shravya was called first. Nearly twenty minutes later she emerged, silent, expression unreadable. As she passed Anjali on her way to the lift, their eyes met. A faint smile curved Shravya’s lips—pride? Satisfaction? Triumph? Anjali couldn’t tell, and the ambiguity only deepened her unease.
Another girl went in. Another twenty minutes crawled by.
Then Anjali’s name echoed down the hall.
Radhika squeezed her shoulders, whispering fierce encouragement before letting her go.
Inside, the atmosphere had thickened. A cluster of people sat around the relocated table in the corner, watching her entrance like hawks. The casting director from yesterday was there, along with the same male actor. Anjali offered a polite greeting, steadying her breath.
“So, Ascharya,” the man in the crisp white shirt and dhoti spoke first, gold rings glinting on almost every finger, “I’m the producer of this film. You’ve already met the director, right?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied softly.
The director leaned forward. “Did you memorize the dialogues?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ramaswami’s gaze lingered a moment longer. “Do you need anything to prepare for the role?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Then we can begin right away. Manoj…”
The actor stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the shift in the air between them.
“Scene 1—love confession. Action,” Ramaswami commanded.
It was a scene borrowed from one of Ramaswami’s earlier films: tender, teasing, layered with innocent longing. Anjali slipped into character, her voice soft and romantic, eyes wide with youthful vulnerability.
“Hey, I just wanted to say something…”
“What is it?”
“I have been watching you for a while, why do you always drive for me?”
“Because your appa always instructs me to drive you to your college.”
“Then, can you take me to a place this coming Saturday?”
“Ask your appa. My only job is to take you to college, nothing more nothing less.”
“Please… I feel only safe with you now. I’ll ask appa. Don’t worry about it.”
“(Sighs) Alright, where to?”
“There is a new coffee shop my friends have been talking about. I want you to take me there.”
“What’s there? Are you going to meet your boyfriend there?”
“Hmmm something like that.”
“Does your appa know?”
“Appava? He will kill me if he knows that I’m meeting a guy.”
“So you want me to drive you there despite the clear instructions to tell him everything.”
“You don’t have to tell everything…”
“Okey…” The guy looked disappointed.
“So who is the guy you are going to meet there?”
“You.”
“Eh???”
“Yeah, it’s you. I want you to take me to a coffee shop.”
“I can’t understand anything, what are you saying?”
“Don’t you understand? I like you and I want you to take me on a coffee date.”
“I’m… I’m…. I’m just your father’s employee….”
“So? Why can’t my father’s employee take me on a date?”
“You are joking right?”
“Then do you think this is joking?”
Instead of the scripted gentle hug and a chaste peck on the cheek, Anjali followed Radhika’s whispered counsel to the letter. She stepped closer, pressed her body softly against his, slid one hand to the nape of his neck, fingers threading gently into his hair—and kissed him full on the lips. Not a fleeting brush, but a deep, lingering, passionate kiss that stole the air from the room.
Inside, nausea churned in her stomach like bitter waves, yet she held her face composed, lips locked, expression unwavering, masking every trace of discomfort. Ramaswami and the producer exchanged stunned glances; no one moved to stop her. Neither did the actor. The kiss stretched on for a full minute—slow, heated, unhurried—sending a ripple of raw excitement through every man watching from the shadows.
She had worn the saree exactly as Radhika instructed, the silk clinging softly to her curves. She felt his palm settle firmly on her hip, pressing with quiet insistence. Every instinct screamed to push his hand away, but she resisted, pouring herself deeper into the kiss. Only when his grip tightened—almost possessively—did her body betray her; she pulled back instinctively, lips parting with a soft gasp. The spell broke.
“Cut it…” Ramaswami’s voice cut through the thick silence, satisfaction thick in his tone.
“Good job, Ascharya. Well done.”
Applause rippled through the room. Heat flooded her cheeks in embarrassment, but she managed a shy smile and murmured her thanks.
“You really surprised me with your talent,” Ramaswami said, eyes gleaming. “No wonder Mari spoke so highly of you.”
The producer leaned toward him, voice low but eager.
“Since she’s far better than we expected… shall we push for a different scene?”
“What do you have in mind?” Ramaswami asked, intrigued.
“Let’s see her dance. With two item songs lined up for her, we need to test how she moves.”
Every man in the room visibly brightened at the suggestion, anticipation crackling in the air.
“Good idea,” Ramaswami agreed, turning to her. “Let’s try that. What do you say, Ascharya?”
“I’m okay, sir,” she replied softly.
The casting director moved to the PA system, slipped a CD into the player, and selected a fast, pulsing track. Anjali quickly tucked the loose end of her saree pallu into the waist of her petticoat, securing it. She stood poised, waiting for the rhythm to find her. Slowly, she began to sway—hips rolling gently at first, then flowing with the beat. The actor joined her, matching her steps. Their hands met, fingers interlacing as they danced together.
His palms soon drifted to her hips, guiding, exploring. She didn’t pull away—Radhika’s words echoed fiercely in her mind: let him touch you, don’t resist. He moved behind her, hands firm on her waist, drawing her back against him. Then his lips brushed the curve of her neck, kissing softly along the sensitive skin in time with the music. She bit her lower lip, tilting her head just enough to sell the illusion of pleasure—another of Radhika’s precise instructions: make them believe you’re enjoying every second.
Suddenly his fingers caught the edge of her pallu and tugged. The silk slipped free in one swift motion. She twisted instinctively, body arching to keep the pleats from unraveling completely. But the damage—or the reveal—was done. Her bare midriff gleamed under the lights, the soft oval of her navel perfectly framed, vulnerable and inviting.
In that suspended moment, Ramaswami’s thoughts drifted dark and appreciative: *Such an angelic face… and a body sculpted to match. But more than that—her willingness to embrace the sensual… that makes her perfect.*