starter:

Ananya dragged herself up the 2 floors to the source of the fog of voices mingled with the foot tapping party music. She left her cane in her car trunk, so it was hard for her to move up the stairs even if it was a long walk up. Rumor says Bollywood’s intolerant of everything. If she can hide her limp as much as she could, the better- plus nobody usually asked questions even if they noticed because people were too busy calling her a crackpot behind her head. She came dressed in a sari but as always came with her dance outfit ready to go and ironed, just in case. Though Ananya’s leg was probably going to give out soon, she didn’t let the pain stop her-for the most part. Of course, popping pills in the bathroom through her tears was also something she was keeping in mind. Finally, she had arrived at the grand venue and the first thing she saw was indeed: “They’re dancing already.”

Karan scanned the document that had been unceremoniously handed to him the second he’d walked in, the script sitting beside him. He’d only managed to get as far as the first two pages in the script a couple of days beforehand, the gist of it giving him a headache before he even reached the crux of the movie. But with the shortened version, the dull headache was turning into a sort of chronic pain and he felt the inexplicable need to run. But he already had-- away from that life, away from everything that resembled that life. And yet, here he was, playing a character that mirrored the man he ran away from, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. 

Okay, I didn’t just say that... I weird myself out sometimes, I’m sorry!

you know, sometimes i wish i’d gotten into flims so i could have my own item number.

saat samundar paar main tere peeche peeche aa gaaaaayiiiiiii

“Oh hello, yeh kya ho raha hai?”

“What was that final-there’s no Ezri-wha-I’m so disappointed.”