ch-64

The sun blazed high over Mumbai, signaling lunchtime for most. For Suraj, however, it was not just a break from the grind of meetings and planning for Mythic Productions' next big venture. It was time for his newest routine—feeding the four little kittens and their cunning mother. Aryan, the self-proclaimed caretaker of the feline family, was at school, leaving Suraj with the responsibility.

"Alright, you two-faced demoness," Suraj muttered as he crouched near the back porch, placing bowls of milk and bits of chicken he'd brought for the cats. The mother cat, a sleek black feline with piercing green eyes, was already waiting, her tail flicking as she watched him suspiciously.

"You act all regal and innocent when Aryan's here, but the second he's gone, you turn into some gangster queen." He pointed an accusing finger at her as she sauntered up to the bowl with the grace of royalty, barely acknowledging his presence.

The kittens followed behind her like tiny shadows, each with its own personality. The smallest one, a fluffy white ball Aryan had named Snowy, tumbled as she tried to keep up, squeaking indignantly. The boldest of the bunch, Tiger, darted straight for the food, earning a sharp swat from his mother. The other two, Cocoa and Biscuit, seemed more interested in climbing Suraj's leg, their tiny claws making him wince.

"Oi! I'm not a tree!" Suraj yelped, gently peeling them off his trousers. "Why do you all act like Aryan's the sun and I'm just some random shadow in your lives?"

The mother cat meowed sharply as if in agreement. Suraj shot her a look. "Don't give me that attitude. You're lucky I'm feeding you. The last time I skipped lunch for you, I nearly fainted in the editing room!"

The comedic standoff continued until the kittens were full, their tiny bellies round from the feast. They began playing around Suraj, pouncing on his shoes and batting at the strings of his hoodie. Snowy even climbed onto his lap, curling up as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well, at least one of you appreciates me," Suraj muttered, stroking her soft fur.

By the time he returned to work, the cats were lounging contentedly in the shade.

---

Hours later, Aryan came home from school, his backpack slung over one shoulder and a wide grin on his face. He immediately went to check on his beloved cats.

"Snowy! Tiger! Cocoa! Biscuit!" he called. The kittens perked up at the sound of his voice, scrambling toward him with tiny meows. The mother cat, who had been lying lazily in a corner, rose with an air of dignity and rubbed against Aryan's legs.

"You're such a softie when I'm here," Aryan teased her, picking up Snowy and kissing her on the nose. "I bet you're mean to Suraj bhaiya when I'm gone, huh?"

He laughed as he sat cross-legged on the porch, letting the kittens climb all over him. The peaceful afternoon passed as Aryan played with them and then settled down to work on his school assignments, occasionally pausing to pet a sleepy kitten curled up beside him.

When Suraj finally returned home, he found Aryan sprawled on the floor with Snowy snoozing on his chest, the other kittens nestled close. The sight made him chuckle softly. "So this is what ultimate happiness looks like," he said, ruffling Aryan's hair.

Aryan woke with a start, grinning sheepishly. "Bhaiya, they were too cute to leave alone!"

"Fair enough," Suraj said, settling down beside him. The two spent the evening together, talking about Aryan's day at school, Suraj's plans for the next movie, and, of course, the cats.

---

Later that night, after Aryan had fallen asleep in his room, Suraj found himself unusually tired. With the weight of multiple projects and the responsibility of selecting one of the ten scripts Mythic Productions had lined up, sleep was a luxury he rarely allowed himself.

Still, he couldn't resist his nightly ritual. The old dream theater, a mysterious realm of stories and visions, beckoned. Suraj entered the familiar space, the theater's grandeur as hauntingly beautiful as ever. Rows of empty seats stretched out before him, and the screen flickered to life as he took his place.

Tonight, he planned to watch a short story, hoping to gather inspiration for future projects. But as the first scenes began to unfold, something strange happened. The screen turned an ominous shade of red, and a series of cryptic messages appeared:

"In 6 ye*rs t *****. &-_***********. **********

**** . ***** # at***a ******* ******-'. Z******

& " ***!****?

(You don't have enough authority to know information)"

Suraj leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. He tried to decipher the fragmented text, but the moment he focused on the first two letters, a sharp pain shot through his head.

His vision blurred, and his mind felt as if it were being pulled in multiple directions. The cryptic message seemed to pulse, growing louder and more insistent in his mind until he was forced to look away.

Suraj clutched his temples, breathing heavily. It felt as if his brain were rejecting the information, unable to process it. The dizziness subsided after a few moments, but he was left with a lingering unease.

"What was that?" he muttered aloud, staring at the now-blank screen.

His first instinct was to dismiss it as some bizarre glitch in the dream theater. But deep down, he knew it was something more—a warning, perhaps, or a glimpse of a future he wasn't meant to see.

Suraj straightened, his resolve hardening. He'd already faced death once. Fear was a luxury he couldn't afford, not when he had Aryan, the company, and the budding cinematic universe to protect. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it head-on.

As he left the dream theater and returned to the waking world, Suraj couldn't shake the feeling that the message was tied to his journey. The cryptic warning lingered in his mind, a puzzle waiting to be solved.

For now, though, he pushed it aside. There was work to be done, a family to care for, and dreams to chase.

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