Chapter 5: Chhotu Shaitan’s Choice

Kabir lowered his head and smiled at the camera.

He let out a soft laugh, glancing at his shoes, as if remembering some tragic yet beautiful past. The girls on set practically swooned.

“I used to think I’d never keep a dog, but she gave me a sense of security, and made me open up to dogs again.”

He looked up, eyes all dewy and hopeful, as if he was reading lines from a blockbuster. For a second, I wondered if he’d practised this in front of the mirror.

[Ahhh, Kabir’s happiness is practically bubbling over when he mentions Little Princess!]

[Kabir’s smile is so sweet. If this couple isn’t real, I’ll never believe in love again.]

[How jealous is Arjun of Kabir? He even remembers what he said in interviews. So gross.]

[Arjun is always bullying Kabir, stealing his screen time and projects.]

[Who’s the real project snatcher? Arjun’s jewellery endorsement was taken by Kabir, yet he still acts like a victim. Pfft.]

[That’s because the brand thought Kabir was a better fit, not because he stole it.]

[Can Little Princess just blacklist Arjun already…]

I tried to look unfazed, staring pointedly at my script. But inside, my blood was boiling at the constant comparisons.

The director saw the livestream viewership skyrocket.

He was secretly overjoyed—this TRP spike was in the bag.

He did a little jig behind the camera, mouthing ‘superhit’ to his assistant. I could already imagine him pitching a sequel show.

He was about to ask more about how Kabir and Little Princess met, when an assistant ran over and whispered in his ear.

The assistant wore a bright orange kurta, slipping on the set like a news reporter with breaking headlines.

The director nodded, then looked at Kabir with a big smile.

Kabir’s fans in the chat started spamming heart emojis again.

“Kabir, Little Princess sent you a gift. She said it’s here to keep Mum company during the show.”

A guest gasped.

“Could it be that Little Princess sent the dog over?”

The excitement was so thick, you could cut it with a butter knife. The female guests started whispering among themselves, giggling.

As soon as someone said that, others chimed in.

“Bhai Kabir is so lucky. Little Princess spoils him~”

“Bhai Kabir’s life is like a Bollywood movie, so happy it’s enviable.”

“I’m so jealous of Bhai Kabir. When will I get a Little Princess girlfriend?”

Kabir looked a bit surprised, pinched his fingers, and lowered his head: “Aiyo, stop it, I’ll go take a look.”

He tried to play coy, but everyone knew he was loving the attention. The Mumbai humidity was no match for the heat on set.

The director suggested everyone go together.

We all left the bungalow and saw the staff holding a Himalayan Mastiff on a leash.

The dog looked regal—his fur shining like he’d just come back from a spa. A group of crew members kept a respectful distance, unsure whether to approach.

My phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message from Ananya.

[Hubby, Dadu called a last-minute meeting. Take care of Chhotu Shaitan for me, I’ll pick him up tonight.]

I sighed, cursing Ananya’s timing. Her ‘Dadu’—the business tycoon—always called her at the most inconvenient moments.

My eyelid twitched and I replied.

[I’m recording a live show. Why did you send Chhotu Shaitan here?]

[I know what you’re up to. Take him back, now.]

Ananya sent a photo: [I’m at the office.]

Her selfie had her pouting next to a stack of files. No sign of guilt at all. I could almost hear her laughing at me.

I locked my phone and took a deep breath.

How did she get to the office in just a few minutes?

I could imagine her in the backseat of her white BMW, sipping cold coffee, acting like a CEO’s heir even in a time crunch.

Kabir looked around. “Just the dog?”

His voice trembled just a bit, but he tried to play it cool, glancing sideways at the cameras.

“Madam Singh said she had to go to the company, so she asked me to give the dog to his dad.”

The staff member spoke in the clipped tones of someone used to handling star tantrums. Everyone nodded, as if this was perfectly normal.

With that, the staff handed the leash to Kabir.

The Mastiff’s fur was thick and glossy, rippling in the breeze. The guests couldn’t help but want to pet him.

The girls squealed, and the boys crowded around, trying to get a selfie. One even tried to tempt him with a samosa, but the dog was too dignified to be bribed.

Someone from the crew tried to bribe him with a vada pav, but Chhotu Shaitan just turned up his nose like a proper Bandra boy.

“Bhai Kabir, what’s the name of the dog you and Little Princess are raising?”

The speaker was Ishaan, a new artist at Singh Media, with a reputation as a clear-headed young actor.

Ishaan’s curiosity was genuine, his eyes wide as he leaned closer, careful not to step on the dog’s tail.

Kabir’s ears suddenly turned red. “This… how should I say it…”

He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous grin spreading. The audience waited, breath held.

Seeing this, everyone started teasing.

“Wah, Bhai Kabir is embarrassed. Now I’m really curious about the name.”

“Hehe, I bet the name is related to Bhai Kabir.”

The teasing got louder, and a few guests started chanting, “Bol, bol, bol!” in true desi style.

Everyone egged him on, and under the crowd’s teasing, Kabir cleared his throat.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. She insisted on naming the dog Kabir Kabir, as in khichdi.”

The studio erupted in laughter. Even the sound guy dropped his boom mic in shock. ‘Khichdi’—only Ananya could come up with that.

Ishaan put on an envious face. “Wuwu, another mouthful of couple goals—I can’t film this show anymore.”

He pretended to faint, the others giggling and clapping. Even the director couldn’t hide his smile.

[Little Princess loves Kabir so much. Even the dog’s name revolves around him.]

[Getting force-fed couple goals the whole time. Spare us single souls, I’m so jealous.]

[The Mastiff is so pretty, must be pampered by Kabir.]

The corners of my mouth twitched in disbelief.

I was torn between laughing and groaning. Poor Chhotu Shaitan—he deserved better than this melodrama.

Did Chhotu Shaitan agree to change his name?

I muttered under my breath, “Even the dog didn’t get a say. Typical.”

Sharp-eyed netizens caught my expression and immediately started hurling comments.

[What’s with Arjun’s face? So sour.]

[Sour about what? Kabir’s words are cringey. Isn’t it normal to be speechless?]

[Arjun must be plotting to steal Little Princess from Kabir.]

[He can only dream. Little Princess only likes Kabir. Not just any random cat or dog can win her over.]

Kabir was all smiles at Ishaan’s words, leading the Mastiff back to the bungalow.

He strutted like he’d just won the Filmfare. The dog, though, had other plans.

But the dog just sat there, unmoving.

The Mastiff flopped onto the cool marble, ignoring Kabir’s pleading looks. His ears flicked, but he didn’t budge.

He looked around, as if searching for someone.

[Daddy-ji, where are you~ I can smell your scent.]

Kabir awkwardly smiled at the camera. “Kabir Kabir, let’s go.”

He tugged gently on the leash, but the dog turned away with a look that said, “Nice try, buddy.”

The Mastiff turned his head away with a haughty air, just like Ananya.

Honestly, I’d never seen an animal look so offended. It was like Ananya herself had possessed the dog for a moment.

Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but laugh.

I covered my mouth, trying not to let the cameras catch me. My laughter bubbled out anyway, and a few people glanced over, curious.

Chhotu Shaitan heard my voice and tried to break free from Kabir’s leash.

His ears perked up, and he started pulling, tail wagging furiously. The crew had to step back to avoid getting tangled.

[Ahhh, as expected of the dog raised by Kabir and Little Princess! That head-turn is too cute, I’m dying from the cuteness.]

[Can Kabir fans stop pretending? The dog didn’t even look at Kabir.]

[Haha, I’m cracking up. Kabir fans, come look—why doesn’t Little Princess’s dog care about your Kabir?]

[Haters are just making stuff up. If the dog isn’t close to Kabir, who else? Kabir is Little Princess’s real boyfriend.]

[Heh, Little Princess hasn’t even made it official, and you’re already calling him the real boyfriend. Don’t let it become a joke.]

[Honestly, I think the Mastiff wants to go to Arjun.]

[Pfft. If Kabir Kabir likes that jerk Arjun, I’ll eat mirchi standing on my head.]

Seeing that comment, I sneered and waved at Chhotu Shaitan. “Chhotu Shaitan, come here.”

I stretched my hand out, snapping my fingers and whistling. The room felt charged with anticipation—maybe this time, the universe would throw me a bone.

The Mastiff paused, ears twitching. In that moment, everyone held their breath—whose side would he choose?