For a few seconds, Sidharth Malhotra completely blanked on how to speak.
Standing next to him was Shah Rukh Khan, looking thoroughly entertained.
This wasn’t the Shah Rukh he’d seen on TV or the superstar Bunty had watched in interviews over the years.
Not a poster, not a film clip, not even an award-show moment.
It was the real deal—and he actually recognized Sid.
Shah Rukh’s grin grew wider.
“Student of the Year.”
Sid felt his face heat up.
“Sir, I—”
But nothing coherent came out.
Shah Rukh chuckled, and somehow, that made Sid feel even more embarrassed.
He clung to the edge of the sink like it was his lifeline.
“Big night,” Shah Rukh remarked.
“Your film drops tomorrow.”
Finally, Sid managed to pull himself together enough to respond.
“Yes, sir.”
“Nervous?”
“Very.”
Shah Rukh shot him a sideways glance, a playful sparkle in his eye.
“Nervous because of your film, or because you’re standing next to me?”
Sid paused.
There was probably a clever comeback somewhere in his mind, but it was lost in the moment.
“Both, sir.”
Shah Rukh let out a hearty laugh—a warm, genuine sound that eased Sid’s tension by maybe five percent.
“Good answer.”
Sid returned an awkward smile.
Shah Rukh grabbed a tissue from the dispenser and dried his hands.
“First film is a wild ride,” he said smoothly.
“Before it releases, anything can happen.
You could become a star.
You could vanish.
You could shine, or you could flop.
No one knows.”
Sid hung on to every word.
“After Friday, though, everyone suddenly has it all figured out,” Shah Rukh continued, a hint of dry humor in his tone.
“Journalists know.
Producers know.
The audience knows.
Even your relatives who’ve never really watched a film—they know too.”
Sid let out a genuine laugh, feeling the knot of nerves in his chest loosen just a bit more.
Shah Rukh tossed the tissue into the bin.
“I was nervous too.”
“You were?” The words slipped out before Sid could catch himself.
Shah Rukh raised an eyebrow, and Sid quickly backpedaled.
“Sorry, sir.
I meant…”
“What?
You think Shah Rukh Khan just popped out of his mother knowing how to deliver a hit?”
Sid’s eyes went wide.
“No, sir.”
“Good.
Because my mother would have a lot to say about that.”
Sid chuckled again as Shah Rukh leaned back against the counter, looking relaxed.
“When I first entered the film industry, I was just as clueless.
Television was one thing, but films?
That was a whole different ballgame.
And Bombay?
A whole new world.”
Sid was familiar with the basics of the legend: Delhi, theatre, television, Fauji, Circus, and then the big move to Bombay.
No film family backing him, no influential father to make a quick call to a producer.
“Rishi saab lent me a hand when I was just starting out,” Shah Rukh said, his voice softening as he reminisced.
Sid perked up.
“Rishi Kapoor?”
“Exactly.
When you’re new, even the smallest gestures mean a lot.
Having someone senior talk to you like a normal person, guiding you on where to stand, who to approach, and what to ignore—it all helps.
Rishi saab was really kind to me when I was still trying to navigate this industry.”
His tone stayed casual, avoiding any grandiose lessons, which only made Sid pay closer attention.
“The start is tough because everything feels like a big deal,” Shah Rukh said, giving Sid’s shoulder a friendly pat.
“Every meeting.
Every review.
Every producer.
Every Friday.
But eventually, you realize that most things aren’t as crucial as they seem.”
Sid smiled.
“Does it get easier?”
Shah Rukh thought for a moment, then flashed a grin.
“Some things do.
But other things just get pricier.”
Sid burst out laughing.
Shah Rukh turned and headed toward the door, with Sid falling in step behind him.
“Thank you, sir.”
Shah Rukh glanced back over his shoulder.
“For what?”
“The advice.”
“I haven’t really given you any solid advice yet,” Sid said, blinking as Shah Rukh swung the door open with a playful smirk.
“Work hard.
Stay interesting.
And don’t trust anyone who claims they can predict what will happen on Friday.”
“Yes, sir,” Sid replied with a nod.
As they stepped back into the lively atmosphere, the booming music quickly enveloped them, drowning out the quiet they had just left.
Sid felt an unexpected lightness.
He had thought meeting Shah Rukh Khan would be a bit much—and it was—but beneath the superstar’s impressive presence was a guy who clearly remembered what it was like to be just starting out.
That realization meant more to Sid than he had anticipated.
They had barely walked a few steps when Karan Johar appeared out of the crowd.
“There you are!”
Shah Rukh shot him a cool glance.
“I was in the bathroom, Karan.
There are only so many places I could have gone.”
“I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”
“Clearly not everywhere.”
Karan brushed off the sarcasm and then noticed Sid standing there, his face lighting up instantly.
“Oh, great!
You two have already met.”
Shah Rukh gestured toward Sid.
“I found your student hiding in the washroom.”
“I wasn’t hiding,” Sid quickly defended himself.
Both men turned to him, making Sid rethink his words.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
“I wanted to introduce you anyway.”
“Too late,” Shah Rukh interjected smoothly.
“I’ve already filled his head with advice.”
Karan looked at Sid with warmth.
“You should definitely listen to him.”
“Absolutely,” Sid agreed.
Shah Rukh casually draped an arm around Sid’s shoulder.
“One outsider to another.”
Those words resonated with Sid more than he expected.
Even Karan’s expression softened for a brief moment.
“Yes.” Then he tugged at Shah Rukh’s sleeve.
“I need you for a minute.”
Shah Rukh sighed dramatically.
“You always need me for a minute.
Your minutes tend to stretch into forty-five.”
“Five.”
“Twenty.”
“Ten.” Shah Rukh shot Sid a cheeky grin.
“See?
Here’s a little nugget of wisdom for you: never trust Karan when it comes to time.”
Sid chuckled, while Karan just rolled his eyes.
“Sorry, Sid.
I’m taking him away.”
“Not a problem at all.”
“Go have fun at your party.”
Sid nodded, watching as Karan whisked Shah Rukh off, already diving into a rapid-fire explanation that Shah Rukh barely let him finish before interrupting.
They melted into the vibrant crowd.
For a moment, Sid stood there, unable to hide his grin.
Bunty would have completely freaked out—he just got career advice from Shah Rukh Khan in a bathroom.
His life had officially taken a turn for the ridiculous.
But then reality hit him like a ton of bricks.
Right.
His parents.
He needed to track them down.
Making his way through the party took way longer than he anticipated.
The room had become a sea of people, and he got stopped twice by acquaintances who wanted to congratulate him on the trailer.
A producer whose name he couldn’t quite recall shoved a business card into his hand, a stranger casually remarked that he had “a very international face,” and an advertising executive insisted on getting Reshma’s contact info.
(Spoiler alert: one of these encounters will matter later.)
By the time Sid finally broke free, he had a newfound respect for how easily people could turn a celebration into a networking opportunity.
At last, he spotted Sushant, which meant his parents had to be nearby.
As he approached, he caught sight of his father first, then his mother.
But as he got closer, he came to a screeching halt.
No way.
Absolutely not.
Right next to his parents were Mahesh Bhatt and Soni Razdan.
Alia was just a few feet away.
Sid quickly turned to make his escape, but a voice cut through the chatter.
“Sidharth!”
His shoulders sagged.
Alia.
Of course.
He forced himself to turn around again.
There she was, waving him over with a radiant smile that seemed to pull the attention of the entire group in his direction.
There was no way out.
Sid took a deep breath to steady himself and stepped into the lion’s den.
Mahesh Bhatt watched him approach, his expression unreadable.
Sid couldn’t quite tell if the man resembled a protective father or a stern judge ready to deliver a verdict.
Maybe he was a bit of both.
Soni Razdan, however, was much more approachable, deeply engrossed in conversation with Rimma.
Or rather, Soni was doing most of the talking while Rimma listened intently, her face showing the strained concentration of someone who understood each English word but struggled to piece them together into a coherent sentence.
“…and I truly believe that children should have the freedom to explore their own emotional identities,” Soni said calmly.
“Especially in a world filled with so much external pressure.”
Rimma nodded seriously.
“Absolutely.”
Sid recognized that look immediately.
His mother wouldn’t have grasped a single word.
Soni continued, “Otherwise, you end up creating these odd, inherited insecurities.”
“Of course,” Rimma replied weakly, casting a desperate glance at Sid that seemed to scream for help.
Sid stifled a laugh just as Mahesh turned his intense gaze toward him.
“There he is.”
“Hello, sir,” Sid greeted politely.
Mahesh placed a heavy hand on Sid’s shoulder and gave it a firm pat.
Very firm.
“Hardworking aashiq.”
Sid maintained his smile.
“Thank you, sir.”
Mahesh glanced over at Sunil.
“Your son is very dedicated.”
Sunil returned a polite, dignified smile.
“That’s good to hear.”
“I saw his audition,” Mahesh continued, his voice cutting through the music.
Sid recalled it vividly—Mahesh sitting in the corner during his Aashiqui 2 screen test, silently observing, judging, and probably questioning why his daughter was interested in this guy.
“He was rough.”
Sid’s smile tightened just a bit.
“But hungry,” Mahesh chimed in, giving Sid’s shoulder another hearty pat.
“That’s a good sign.”
Sunil nodded in agreement.
“He’s always been stubborn once he sets his sights on something.”
“Exactly.
Stubbornness is key in this business.” For a fleeting moment, Sid thought the conversation might take a turn for the better.
But then Mahesh’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing.
“But focus is what really matters.”
Sid felt Alia tense up beside him.
Mahesh’s hand remained firmly planted on Sid’s shoulder.
“A young actor has a very limited window,” Mahesh continued smoothly.
“People often think youth is everlasting.
It’s not.
Opportunities can vanish in the blink of an eye.”
Sid nodded cautiously.
“Yes, sir.”
“So if you want to make it, you need to stay focused.”
Pat.
“Work.”
A firmer pat.
“Improve.”
Mahesh glanced sideways, his gaze flickering briefly toward Alia.
“And steer clear of unnecessary distractions.”
An awkward silence enveloped the group.
Sunil quickly picked up on the underlying tension, his expression shifting to one of restrained discomfort.
Sid wished he could just sink into the floor and disappear.
Alia’s cheeks turned crimson.
Mahesh played innocent.
“What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“I’m just giving the boy some solid advice.”
“No, you’re not!”
“It is good advice.
Distractions can lead to failure.”
“You just called me a distraction!”
“I never mentioned your name, beta.”
“You looked right at me!”
Mahesh flashed a faint, mysterious smile.
“Maybe you’re just feeling guilty.”
Alia let out a sound of pure indignation.
“Papa!”
Sid shot a glance at his father.
Sunil met his gaze, and in that brief moment, a whole silent conversation unfolded between them:
Do something.
You do something!
She’s your girlfriend.
He’s Mahesh Bhatt!
Neither of them budged an inch.
Finally, Soni stepped in, placing a comforting hand on her husband’s arm.
“Mahesh, just let it go.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You are.” Soni rolled her eyes with a hint of affection before shifting her focus to Sid.
That look she gave him was clear—this chat was far from over.
Sid managed another polite smile, but inside, he was groaning.
Great.
His girlfriend’s dad either despised him or wanted to send him packing to another continent.
Alia moved a bit closer to Sid, whispering softly, “Just ignore him.”
Mahesh’s ears perked up.
“I can hear you, you know.”
“Good!”
Soni let out a gentle sigh.
“Alia, come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to pay our respects to Mr.
Khan.”
Sid wasn’t quite sure which Khan she meant until Soni pointed across the room at Shah Rukh.
Rimma quickly put on a polite, tight smile.
“Oh, yes.
Of course.”
The change in atmosphere was jarring.
One moment, the two families were awkwardly trying to connect; the next, Soni was already leading her family toward someone higher up the social ladder.
Sid noticed his mother’s smile stiffen slightly, a detail that didn’t escape Sunil either.
Neither of them said a word.
This was their son’s world now, and they were just guests—making a scene would only complicate things for Sid.
Alia, however, clearly sensed the shift and looked thoroughly embarrassed.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised softly.
Rimma’s expression softened.
“Go, beta.”
Alia turned to Sid, her eyes filled with regret.
“Sorry.”
Sid offered her a reassuring smile.
“It’s fine.”
She knew it wasn’t, but her mother was already calling her name again.
Alia lightly touched Sid’s arm before turning away.
“Call me later.”
“I will.”
She hurried off to join her parents.
Mahesh followed, but not before casting one last look back at Sid.
The message was unmistakable: We’ll discuss this later.
Sid watched them walk away, finally letting out a long, weary sigh.
“Well…
that went just wonderfully.”
Sid glanced back at his mother, who was still captivated by Soni as she glided gracefully through the crowd.
Rimma turned to her son, a slight frown on her face.
“I didn’t catch a single word that woman said.”
Sid bit his lip, while Sunil struggled to suppress a smirk.
“I’m serious,” Rimma pressed, crossing her arms.
“Emotional identity, projection, inherited…
whatever it was…”
“Insecurities,” Sunil chimed in helpfully.
“Yes, that!
What does any of that even mean?”
Sid shrugged, feeling a bit helpless.
“Rich-people language?”
Sunil chuckled, but Rimma looked a bit offended.
“For a moment, I thought my English had completely gone downhill.”
“Your English is perfectly fine, Ma.”
“Then why can’t people just speak plainly?”
Just then, Sushant returned from somewhere, grinning.
“Because that wouldn’t sound nearly as sophisticated, Aunty.”
“Exactly!” Rimma said, her face lighting up in agreement.
Sunil took a moment to survey the sparkling room—the top-tier stars, high-profile producers, glamorous models, the endless flow of champagne, and people greeting each other with exaggerated warmth before quickly scanning the room for someone more important.
Having spent decades in the Merchant Navy, Sunil was well-versed in hierarchies, the wealthy elite, and the fluid dynamics of social status.
But this scene was a whole different animal.
“It’s just how the elites roll around here,” Sunil remarked quietly.
Sid glanced at his father, who simply shrugged.
“Every world has its own language.”
Rimma sniffed dismissively.
“Well, I’m not a fan of this one.”
Sid let out a nervous laugh, prompting his mother to turn to him with a serious look.
“And that father of hers…”
Sid’s laughter faded instantly.
“What about him?”
“He doesn’t like you.”
“Ma—”
“What?
It’s obvious!
He doesn’t.”
Sushant suddenly found the nearby floral arrangement incredibly interesting, while Sunil coughed discreetly into his hand.
Sid rubbed his forehead in frustration.
“Ma, he barely knows me.”
He let out a long sigh.
Becoming a superstar suddenly felt like the easy part.
AN: No chapter tomorrow.
Also I am thinking of a proper mentor for Sid and currently thinking about SRK.
Do you have any thoughts about this?