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"Shouldn't you be in there, setting the temperature to 'scorching'?" he asked, not looking up.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
Dev laughed. "That's not a rom-com."
Zara looked at the photo. She was wearing a crimson sari, backless, rain-soaked, her kohl-rimmed eyes looking over her shoulder like a challenge. The comments were a storm of fire emojis and declarations of love.
That evening, she slipped away from her own success party. The bass of the music thumped through the walls of the Mumbai mansion as she walked barefoot to the pool house. There, she found her co-star, Dev, nursing a whiskey. hot bollywood actress
"I'm tired of being a temperature," she said, sitting beside him. "I'm tired of being a body part in a headline. 'Zara’s waist.' 'Zara’s legs.' 'Zara's new bikini.'"
"No," Zara said, her eyes finally holding a fire no camera could capture. "It's a warning." "Shouldn't you be in there, setting the temperature
"To my vanity van," she said. "I have a script. It’s about a woman who burns down a museum full of paintings that only ever showed her as a muse, never as the artist."
He reached out and tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. "Then maybe you stop trying to give them what they want to click. And start giving them what they need to feel." "That's not a rom-com