Wrong
She looked around the studio and felt a weird sense of déjà-vu envelope her. This was crazy.
"And where will this one go Kria?" the stage manager of her team was holding up a life size poster. A poster exactly like the one in front of the auditorium all those years ago. Should that damn poster not be outdated as of now? His image management team needed to work harder at refreshing his image. Speaking of auditoriums, Kria looked around her studio. A frown marred her face as she took it all in. She was not having a particularly good day and this was not helping her mood in the least.
Strong hands crept around her waist as a strong muscular chest came in contact with her back. "What is it?" a husky male voice whispered in her ear. Of course he would notice. She just shrugged her shoulders and leaned back into his warmth greedily. She felt guilty for dismissing his question. But she had no idea what to tell him. Because "it" was not a single thing. It was a whole bunch of things. Like how she had no idea on what to make of this situation. On how to greet the man whom she knew or maybe she didn't. On how she had no idea why her chest feels heavy.
And on how it was irritating her big time on seeing her studio not look like HER studio anymore. She was not a very artistic sort. Well if you don't count dance, that is. Fashion, painting, decoration and other such finer skills have never really been her strong suit. But her studio was a matter of rare pride for her. She had designed it, every single inch of it with the attention of a caring lover. It had taken her days, months to get it just right. So that the studio will reflect her. Them. His style and edge. Her sophistication and elegance. And now it was just messed up. Every inch of it crawling with big lifelike images of…. Of him. The other Him. It felt wrong how it somehow fit perfectly into the scene. It was wrong that his posters in her studio looked so right. This aptness was completely … inapt.
She looked to the right and saw one of her stage hands take down the picture of Reyansh. It was almost audible as the leash on her tightly controlled emotions finally snapped. "STOP!" her glacial voice rang across the room as it froze everyone in their place. She could feel Rey stiffen behind her as she wiggled out of his hold. "Leave the studio alone." she said in a tone that brokered no arguments.
"The PR team of Rohan Nanda asked for the place to be remodeled to reflect his presence." Rey started softly trying to not sound too pushy. She was in one of her moods and he knew no other staff would dare to counter her order. But he needed to try. Mr. Nanda was an international sensation and this was a huge deal for the studio. Surely she would get that. "I said no, Rey." she replied in a soft voice. He tried to persist but then she turned around to meet his eyes and he was brought up short. "Please." The soft plea in her tone bothered him. This was not right. He had not seen that look in her eyes for a while now. He had last seen it when she had cornered him in the rehearsal hall, begging him to give her a chance. Hear her out. Or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks. But whatever it was, it made him give in to her. "Fine. As you wish." he had said with a smile and then hugged her tight. Trying to dispel that vulnerable look in her eyes. To make it go away. Because something told him that this time around he was not the reason behind it.