Arc 1: The Wealth Momentum (2016)Part II: The Digital Savior
Chapter 14 — Neighbour With An Actress
Fame doesn't announce itself.
It simply walks past you—expecting you to already know.
The Morning of Silence
Worli mornings were nothing like Dadar.
There was no vegetable vendor shouting below.
No pressure cooker whistles echoing through walls.
No neighbour arguing about water timings.
Only silence.
Expensive, air-conditioned silence.
Vikram woke up on the marble floor of his penthouse, sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling glass. He had fallen asleep there last night, staring at the ceiling, his mind running calculations long after his body gave up.
For the first time in his life—
He didn't feel late.
No alarm clock.
No guilt.
No rush.
He sat up slowly and stretched, joints cracking softly.
"Too quiet," he muttered.
The blue holographic panel flickered into existence near the window.
ENVIRONMENT STATUS:
Noise Pollution — Minimal
Mental Load — Reduced
A soft ting followed as he blinked instinctively.
+₹2.00
Vikram smiled faintly.
Even silence paid now.
A Simple Man's Routine
Despite the penthouse, despite the money—
Vikram's habits hadn't changed.
He brushed his teeth while standing barefoot, water running longer than necessary because he could afford waste now—but still felt guilty about it.
He made tea himself.
No staff.
No maid.
No cook.
Just milk, tea leaves, and muscle memory.
Low ambition, high peace, he reminded himself.
This place was temporary.
That's what he told himself.
Just a base.
Not a lifestyle.
The First Encounter
He stepped out into the hallway around noon, dressed simply—plain grey t-shirt, jeans, sneakers.
The corridor was wide, carpeted, silent.
As he locked his door—
Another door opened across from him.
He noticed movement first.
Then perfume.
Then presence.
A woman stepped out.
Tall.
Slim.
Effortlessly composed.
Large sunglasses hid half her face. Her hair was tied casually, but the kind of casual that took effort. She wore jeans, a white shirt, and sneakers—but somehow looked like she belonged on a billboard.
Two men followed her.
One spoke into a Bluetooth device.
"Car is ready, ma'am."
Vikram paused.
His brain took a second longer than usual.
Then recognition hit him like delayed thunder.
Kiana Mehra.
Bollywood actress.
Three hit films in two years.
Magazine covers.
Brand endorsements.
Someone his mother watched on TV every Sunday afternoon.
She glanced at him briefly.
Not curious.
Not dismissive.
Just… neutral.
Then she walked past.
The corridor seemed smaller afterward.
Processing Glamour
Vikram stood there for a moment.
Then blinked.
Chime.
+₹2.00
"Of course," he muttered. "Even celebrities don't stop the system."
He laughed quietly to himself.
But inside—
Something shifted.
The Simple Man vs The Glamour World
Back inside his penthouse, Vikram sat on the floor, tea in hand, staring out at the sea.
An actress lived across the hallway.
An actual actress.
The kind whose lifestyle was the opposite of everything he believed in.
Lights.
Cameras.
Attention.
He hated attention.
Or so he thought.
System Observation
The blue panel pulsed faintly.
SOCIAL PROXIMITY DETECTED:
High-Influence Individual — Class: Celebrity
POTENTIAL INTERACTION VALUE:
Moderate to High
Vikram frowned.
"Interaction value?" he repeated.
He waved his hand through the panel instinctively.
"Don't start," he warned it. "I'm not interested."
The panel didn't respond.
But the words stayed.
Lunch With Old Friends, New Realities
Later that afternoon, Goolu and Eizi came over.
They entered the penthouse like tourists.
"Bhai," Goolu breathed. "This isn't a house. This is a film set."
Eizi walked straight to the window.
"Sea view," he said softly. "You know how many rappers dream of this view?"
Vikram shrugged.
"It's just height."
Goolu laughed. "Spoken like a man who forgot gravity exists."
As they settled—
A knock came at the door.
Vikram frowned.
"I didn't order anything."
He opened the door.
A delivery boy stood there, holding a package.
"From opposite flat, sir."
Vikram accepted it, confused.
Inside was a sleek black box.
A note was attached.
'Your courier was delivered to my place by mistake. Thought I'd return it.'
— K
Goolu's eyes widened.
"K… K… Kiana?!"
Eizi grinned. "Bro just got noticed."
Vikram sighed.
"It's just courtesy."
But his heart betrayed him by beating slightly faster.
The Accidental Conversation
That evening, Vikram stepped out again.
This time, Kiana was waiting for the lift alone.
No sunglasses.
No entourage.
Just… human.
She glanced at him.
"You're the new neighbor?"
"Yes," Vikram replied simply.
There was an awkward pause.
Then she smiled faintly.
"Welcome to the pressure cooker."
He raised an eyebrow. "Pressure?"
She laughed softly. "This building."
The lift arrived.
They stepped inside.
Two Different Worlds in One Elevator
The lift doors closed.
Silence filled the space.
Kiana checked her phone.
Vikram stared at the numbers lighting up.
"So," she said casually, "what do you do?"
The question carried no judgment.
Just curiosity.
"I'm… figuring things out," Vikram replied honestly.
She nodded, as if that was the most normal answer.
"Lucky you."
He looked at her.
"You don't like what you do?"
She shrugged. "I like acting. I don't like being watched."
That surprised him.
"You're famous."
"Yes," she agreed. "And invisible at the same time."
The lift dinged.
Her floor.
She stepped out, then turned back.
"See you around…?"
"Vikram."
"Kiana."
Then she was gone.
The Clash Inside
Back in his apartment, Vikram lay on the floor again.
The encounter replayed in his mind.
She wasn't arrogant.
She wasn't fake.
She was… tired.
Just like him.
Different worlds.
Same exhaustion.
The system panel appeared quietly.
EMOTIONAL RESPONSE DETECTED:
Curiosity + Recognition
POSITIVE VIBRATION: +0.7%
Vikram frowned.
"That counts as positive emotion?"
The panel didn't answer.
The Fear of Becoming Visible
That night, Vikram stood on the balcony, watching paparazzi lights flicker far below, near another building.
They weren't here for him.
Yet.
He imagined it—
Cameras.
Questions.
Assumptions.
He didn't want that life.
He wanted freedom.
And fame was a cage made of gold.
The System's Quiet Warning
The panel pulsed again.
NOTICE:
Wealth increases visibility.
Visibility attracts influence.
Influence reshapes destiny.
Vikram closed his eyes.
"So there's no staying small?" he asked softly.
No answer.
But the city answered for it.
A Simple Man's Resolve
He made a decision that night.
He would remain invisible.
No flashy clothes.
No social media.
No unnecessary attention.
Money was a tool.
Not an identity.
If the glamour world knocked—
He would not open the door easily.
Across the Hall
Across the hallway, in another penthouse—
Kiana stood by her window, sipping green tea.
She looked at the city.
Then glanced at Vikram's dark balcony.
No lights.
No music.
No movement.
"Interesting," she murmured.
End of Chapter Reflection
Two people.
Two penthouses.
Two philosophies.
One city that didn't care.
Vikram blinked once more before sleeping.
Chime.
+₹2.00
Simple.
Reliable.
Silent.
Just the way he liked it.
For now.
End of Chapter 14
The simple man had stepped into the glamour world's shadow.
Whether he liked it or not—
That world had already noticed him.