Chapter 4: Reality Showdown

The vanity van stopped at the set, and as soon as I got out, the cameras started rolling.

Spot boys were milling around, and a light breeze brought in the smell of wet earth. I could see the camera crew peering at me, probably hoping for a reaction shot. The moment I stepped onto the tiled porch, the director waved his hand and everything started.

The distant clang of a BEST bus horn and the smell of wet earth drifted in as the cameras rolled. The chat box on the live stream was filling up faster than a Mumbai local at rush hour. The trolling was relentless.

When I arrived at the recording bungalow, all the guests were crowding around Kabir, showering him with praise.

Kabir was in his element, basking in the spotlight. I saw him grin, flashing those perfectly straight teeth. I rolled my eyes and slid into the only empty chair left.

The show’s called “Come Date Me.”

There are four male and four female guests, and it’s streamed live, real-time.

Everyone has to live together for three days and two nights.

Basically, Bigg Boss lite—minus Salman, but with just as much drama.

At the start, the director aimed the camera at Kabir and asked if he and Little Princess had gone public last night.

“Uh…”

Kabir said shyly, “You’ll all know when the time comes~”

He did that thing with his hair, looking down with a small smile, as if he was in some Yash Raj romance. The chat exploded with heart emojis.

The director wasn’t about to let this wave of traffic go and pressed on.

“Then, Kabir, can you tell us what happened last night? Was Little Princess showing off your love with that late-night post?”

The director leaned in, eager for some masala. Even the sound guy was stifling a laugh.

Kabir pretended to be annoyed and stomped his foot.

“She insisted on bringing the dog to keep me company for the show. I said no, so she childishly took the dog away while I was working.”

He scrunched up his nose, acting like a schoolboy complaining about his lunch being stolen. The crowd ate it up.

I watched Kabir’s immersive performance, stunned at how he could make up stories without even blinking.

How does he do it? The confidence with which he spins these tales! I almost wanted to clap.

I couldn’t help but ask,

“Didn’t you say in an interview that you were bitten by a dog as a kid and would never keep one?”

My words hung in the air, and a hush fell over the set. I sipped my coffee, acting casual, but inside I was grinning like an idiot.

Kabir fidgeted with his kurta sleeve, shooting a nervous glance at the director before looking up at the camera.