Bollywood Confidential Read Free Page B

chicken tikka masala that Pratab—the family cook—had prepared for dinner.
    On screen, Siddharth got down on one knee and began shaking his shoulders to the beat of the music.
    His grimace deepened into a scowl.
    He was thirty-two, for God’s sake. How much longer would he have to play the boyish college heartthrob?
    Siddharth flipped channels and came upon another of his films. This time he was running through a field of tulipsin Holland, his arms outstretched, beaming from ear to ear, flashing his famous toothy smile.
    Siddharth remembered a time when acting had been his passion. Now all he did was star in film after film about lovers who came together, were torn apart, and then brought together again at the end.
    He’d finally taken a risk last year and starred in a film where he’d played the villain.
    He’d had the time of his life.
    But the film had bombed at the box office.
    Siddharth’s status as an A-list actor remained untouched, but he’d learned that the Indian audience wanted to see him as a romantic hero and would settle for nothing else.
    Ever since Siddharth’s father had passed away when he was sixteen and his sister Sachi just a baby, he’d become the sole financial support for his mother and sister. He couldn’t afford to take chances with his career.
    Disgusted with watching himself, he turned off the TV and closed his eyes.

Chapter 5
    â€œUnlike you, Jai, not everyone was sexually active in the womb.”
    Raveena said this last comment a bit too loudly, and the man on the street corner gave her a startled look.
    She returned the look, because he had an iguana perched on each one of his shoulders and one on top of his head.
    Los Angeles. Love it or hate it.
    It was Sunday afternoon, they were driving into West LA, and she had just finished telling her two best friends, Jai and Maza, about the Bollywood role.
    Somehow the conversation had segued into Jai’s sex life.
    Then again, a conversation about blueberry muffins could take a sexual turn if Jai was around.
    Maza and Jai finished their cigarettes and put the stubs into the biodegradable baggie Maza always carried in her car.
    Raveena wasn’t a smoker and had opened the window. Now that the air was clear she closed it. She didn’t want to freak out any more people with their conversation.
    Jai and Raveena had been friends forever. Their parentsmoved in the same Indian social circle. The year the two friends had turned twenty-one, Jai had come out to her.
    Personally, Raveena had been more surprised by the zit she discovered on her chin that very same morning.
    As much as she loved him, Jai was under the serious delusion that most people thought he was straight.
    He was also paranoid that his parents would one day discover his secret sexual identity.
    Raveena didn’t have the heart to tell Jai that it was pretty obvious from the way his parents never brought up their son’s lack of girlfriends, his career as a makeup artist at MAC, or his DVD collector’s edition of the show Queer as Folk, that they probably had a clue.
    In the backseat, Jai pointed at the well-muscled blond man in a red convertible. “You think he’s into chicken tandoori?”
    Maza pressed a hand to her stomach. “Stop. You’re making me hungry.”
    Jai caught Raveena’s eye and winked. “I wasn’t talking about food, honey.”
    She didn’t wink back. “Can we please get back to discussing the Bollywood deal?”
    They were now stuck in a traffic jam on Sunset Boulevard. Only in Southern California could you find yourself in a traffic jam on a Sunday afternoon.
    â€œPersonally, I’d love to get out of LA,” Maza said. “Go to a spiritual place like India and just live in a cave.”
    Ah…not!
    Maza gunned the engine of her Range Rover and pushed forward in traffic.
    Maza, the first friend Raveena had made after moving toLA, donated numerous hours to