(unedited)
It had been a bloody rough 27 hours for Farrah. First the meeting with Richard and Mr. Walters, then George blurting the bit on Mr. Walters wanting in her knickers, followed by Richard's anger and his hasty exit, then both Rachel and George claiming to see some 'spark' between her and Richard, Richard not talking to her, Richard booking for the entire crew rooms in the Ritz Paris, her not getting enough sleep the night before their flight, Richard bumping their tickets from economy to business class, Richard still refusing to reason with her, Richard renting for the crew a luxury 4WD. Richard footing the bill for every fucking thing basically...and still not talking to her.
She was beyond pissed with everything. He didn't even take a minute to ask her if she would be okay with all of this. He didn't even take a second to think what the implications of all this would be. It didn't help that she witnessed, first-hand, how several air stewardesses were tripping over themselves to get him 'settled' into his seat. She had gone to the First Class section of the plane to talk to Ben. With both Ben and Farrah gone, Charlie was bound to go a bit stir crazy. And that was when she saw it, the air stewardess was practically in Richard's lap showing him how to buckle his seat belt. With the amount of flying the man does, one would think that he would already know how to buckle it up himself, she thought to herself as she ground her teeth.
She left with a tight smile on her face as the same stewardess ushered her back to her seat, as they were getting ready to take off. She hadn't managed to speak to Ben at all, as her eyes were fixed on Richard. She sat in her seat, stewing in anger for the entire duration of the flight. Fine, she thought, if he doesn't want to talk to me, I don't have to talk to him either. When she realized how childish her thoughts were, she scoffed quietly and rolled her eyes. She didn't care if she was acting like a child, but she was done trying to talk to Richard, trying to get his attention.
The crew went through immigration quickly and picked up their luggage in what seemed like record time. They met up with Richard and his two bodyguards, Ben and Rob, by the arrivals with their cars. Ben would be with Richard at all times, while Rob was tasked to drive the crew around. By this time even Rachel whispered in Farrah's ears, asking if everything was alright. Farrah just nodded quietly and refused to say more. It was only 9am, and Farrah just plain refused to deal with whatever 'it' was this early.
Obviously because they were with royalty, the crew too was allowed an early check in for their stay. Rachel, like the headmistress to a bunch of rowdy teenager, stood in the middle of the group of four and clapped her hands to get their attention.
"Right, guys...it is 15 to 11.00am and I'm sure everyone could use the rest. We'll meet up at 1.30pm at the lobby and we'll start walking around just to start collecting shots of Paris. Mark, Will; make sure you bring along the necessary equipment and absolutely no mucking about. We'll leave that for when we wrap up the Paris slot, understood?" Rachel said sternly.
"Yes, Ma'am," both men answered solemnly trying to suppress cheeky grins. Rachel rolled her eyes and turned to Farah. "And you missy, you really need to get some sleep. You look horrible...and the camera never lies," Rachel said frowning slightly.
"A soak and a nap will set me right," Farrah mumbled halfheartedly.
"Whatever it is that's messing up the chemistry between you and Richard, you need to fix it. Viewers will pick up the tension in seconds. I don't think I need to remind you Farrah, but this is a once in a lifetime chance. And chances like this will never come by again," Rachel said as she gently patted Farrah's shoulder.
Farrah stood there alone in the lobby as she watched her colleagues head to their own rooms. She felt tired, and somehow defeated. She suddenly felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders and all she wanted to do was to brush it off. Instead she slung her traveling tote on her shoulder, adding more weight to it, and pulled her luggage behind her to the elevators.
***
Instead of the soak and the nap that she had promised Rachel she was going to take, Farrah sat on the King size bed and exhaled harshly. Knowing that she was most probably not going to get any rest, she decided to start unpacking her luggage. Laying out all the items on the bed, Farrah slowly started hanging up the outfits that she had brought for Rachel to give a final approval off. As she was slowly putting her clothes away, her phone rang and she saw that it was her dad.
"Assalamualaikum, Dad," Farrah said as she put her phone on speaker as she continued her packing.
"Walaikumsalam, bacche. Kaha per ho (where are you)?" she heard her father question.
Farrah scrunched her eyes tight, "Dad, I forgot to tell you, I need to go to Paris for work..."
"Bacche, when?" he questioned again.
"Ummm...now...," she scrunched her eyes again, knowing that she made a mistake of not telling him before leaving. But truth be told, it had totally slipped her mind. "I'm sorry Daddy, it totally slipped my mind. Sorry, sorry, sorry!"
"Bacche, is this for the segment on the Princess' suicide? You finally did it?" he sounded proud and incredulous at the same time. Farrah couldn't help but chuckle.
"Yes Dad, I did it," she said. She heard a knock at the door and she walked and opened it and walked back to her phone.
"So, you're there with Prince Richard?" her father asked with wonder in his voice. Farrah couldn't help the laugh that escaped her.
"Yes Sir, she is here with me," Farrah froze as she heard Richard's voice. She turned around slowly and took him in. He had obviously taken a shower, his ember color hair now a deeper, darker colour. And God, does he smell good, Farrah thought and frowned.
"Bacche, am I really talking to the prince or is this one of your colleagues poking fun at your Baba?" she heard her father ask.
Farrah swallowed, and tried to clear her throat a few times, "Yes Dad, you are actually talking to the prince." Her eyes were still glued to Richard's face.
"You really need to check who's at the door before you open it," Richard said sharply.
"She opened the door without checking?" Farrah heard her father's panicked voice. "Bacche, ye kya hai? Dhyan kaha hai aapka? " (Child, what is this? Where's your attention?)
"Daddy, relax. It's fine, I just thought it was Rachel. We were supposed to go over some material for the shoot," Farrah said, as she avoided looking at Richard.
"Bacche, first you forgot to inform me that you are in Paris, and now I hear that you are being careless about your safety. I have half a mind to come to Paris right now," her father said sternly.
"Dad! You're on speaker phone!" Farrah all but shrieked feeling embarrassed as she looked for her phone, not remembering where she left it.
"Don't worry, Sir. I'm...I mean, we're all here together. And I...we...we'll make sure we get her back to London safely," Richard said as his eyes bore into hers.
"You, young man...I will need to meet you once you are all in London, Prince or not...you understand?" Yousof said tersely over the phone.
"Yes sir, I understand," Richard said gracefully.
"Allah Hafiz bacche. Be safe," her father. "Love you."
"Love you too, Dad," Richard felt a pang in his heart when he heard Farrah utter those words. He knew it was absolutely wrong to feel jealous, that is her father for Christ's sake. But he was. Those words were something that he could only dream of Farrah saying to him.
Farrah sighed deeply. Nothing was going the way she had expected; her father wants to meet Richard. Can this day get any more absurd?, she thought. She looked up and studied Richard's tense form, the clenching of his jaw. His blue eyes glittered in the dim light of her room and Farrah wrapped her arms around her torso as she looked at him.
"You...You don't need to meet him, my dad I mean," Farrah said pathetically. "This is so embarrassing," she laughed lamely at the situation. The silence grew bigger and started to take over the room when Farrah cleared her throat uncomfortably. A move that jarred Richard out of his thoughts.
"I'm sorry," he said evenly.
"What for?" she asked in a small voice, her eyes round with cautious wonder.
"For feeling like I am going out of my mind over things that I can't control. For trying to take control of my anger by removing myself from you. For wanting to be close to you," Richard said tersely, with every spoken word he had taken a step closer to her. Where he now stood looking down at her; there was a need, a pain, a sadness, in his eyes that she couldn't pinpoint.
Blinking up at him, she took a step backwards. "What's happening to us, Richard? We were supposed to be just friends. This doesn't feel like friendship," she said softly.
"What does it feel like?" he asked in a whisper rooted in his spot.
"I...I don't know...but I'm exhausted," Farrah swallowed. " I'm just so fucking tired," she whispered harshly. She looked away trying to blink away her tears, when she felt Richard's warm palm wrap around the nape of her neck, pulling her to him.
Richard leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers and inhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes tightly to the point where he could see shapes dancing against his eyelids. He could still smell the traces of her shampoo and perfume even though they had spent a better part of the morning traveling. He wanted to run his nose along the lines of her neck, to write into his memory the smell of her but he didn't- he couldn't. He left his hand on the nape of her neck holding her in place. She felt defeated under his fingertips, and he hated knowing that it was due to him.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry â"
"Stop...stop saying that you're sorry," she said, as the tears started flowing freely over her cheeks.
"You're crying because of me," he whispered.
"I'm crying because I am exhausted," she said, her voice trembling. They both knew that wasn't the reason that she was crying. Farrah took a few steps away from him, breaking the contact and wiped her tears with the back of her palms.
"I'm exhausted, Richard. I haven't gotten enough sleep, the stakes are high, and I'm a right mess," she said as she looked at the duvet on the bed, her fingers tracing the patterns on the stitching. "I just need to get some sleep and I'll be right as rain," she smiled at him, but he could still see the trembling of her lips. "We'll talk later, yeah?" with that she dismissed him, as she picked up her toiletries and walked into the bathroom. The sound of the door shutting and the clicking of the lock was the only thing that Richard could hear over the deafening silence of her dismissal.
***
Honesty time - this chapter is not what I had initially planned. And I do think it reads pretty awkward. No time for edits right now, maybe once it's all complete. Who knows. I had already prewritten the next few chapters waaay in advance and I'm not sure if I those are still useable. So yeah. Urgh, migraine. :(
Let me know what you guys think.
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