When they reached Mumbai, it was already early in the morning.
The city was awake in its own rhythm—fast, loud, and unfamiliar.
They stepped out of the station with their luggage.
The elder uncle instinctively held Akshatha's hand tightly. It wasn't painful—just protective. A silent gesture saying stay close.
The two younger brothers followed behind them.
They first boarded a taxi waiting outside.
The elder uncle, being experienced in such situations, was alert. He knew how things worked in cities like this—how drivers sometimes help with luggage, expecting more fare or advantage later.
The driver, equally sharp, observed them as they settled in. After a minute of silence, he asked casually,
"Where to?"
The elder uncle replied, "A good hotel."
They checked into a hotel, freshened up, and rested briefly before beginning their actual purpose for the visit.
By that afternoon, their real journey started.
One by one, they visited different shooting sets—three in total that day—to understand how the industry functioned.
At each studio gate, security guards would ask questions.
Before anyone else could respond, Akshatha would step slightly forward.
With a soft, innocent smile, she would say they were tourists from far away. Curious visitors. She would even ask questions back—about which serial was being shot there, and whether they could just take a small look inside.
She would mention popular shows and characters with excitement, saying she was a big fan of "Prerna" and others, depending on the production.
Her tone was simple, natural, and childlike.
It worked every time.
The guards softened.
Some even smiled.
In many places, they allowed them to observe briefly or guided them politely.
That night, all four of them returned to the hotel room after dinner.
The day had been long and exhausting—first the journey, and then moving from one shooting set to another under the unfamiliar pace of the city.
Their bodies were tired.
Their minds, even more.
As soon as they settled in, one by one, they fell into a deep sleep.
Akshatha lay down as well, but her thoughts were still active.
Something was missing.
They had seen the sets… "understood the process… observed the environment.
But she hadn't found the person she was looking for.
The one who could truly lead.
The one who could turn plans into reality.
She knew that person existed somewhere in this city.
Her role wasn't to build everything alone.
She just had to bring the right people together
her family…
and that one person.
Once they met, things would begin to move in the right direction.
With that thought, her mind slowly began to quiet down.
Sleep took over.
And the night passed in silence.
They entered another production studio.
And there—Akshatha saw him.
The very person she had been searching for.
Her eyes sharpened slightly.
This is the moment, she thought.
Without hesitation, she moved forward and gently dashed into him.
If an adult had done it, it would have looked intentional. But because it was a child, it appeared like a simple accident.
The man staggered slightly.
Immediately, Akshatha stepped back and apologized.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, helping pick up the file that had fallen to the ground because of the collision.
Her family noticed the scene and quickly moved forward to assist.
Both sides helped each other to stand properly.
Nagaraju immediately apologized on behalf of his daughter.
"I'm sorry, she was running and didn't see you."
The man gave a calm smile.
"It's okay. She might have just been in a hurry."
But Akshatha's attention was already on the file in her hand.
As she picked it up, she casually glanced at it.
Then she read a few words aloud, as if curious.
"Sapna Babbul Ka… Bidaai?"
Her father barely registered it at first.
Then she repeated it, this time slightly changing the tone, almost like a rhythm—
"Bidaai… bidaai… reeth hai kaisi hai…"
It wasn't just reading anymore.
It sounded like a tune.
That small moment caught Nagaraju's attention.
For a second, he froze.
That melody—
it felt familiar.
It reminded him of an old serial his wife used to watch at home.
A brief flash of memory passed through him.
Then he snapped back to reality.
The man quickly adjusted his files and said politely,
"It's okay. No harm done."
Nagaraju nodded respectfully.
"Looks like we disturbed you. Were you going for some work? Maybe an interview?"
The man hesitated for a moment, then smiled lightly.
"No… it's just—" he paused briefly, then added, "nothing important."
There was a slight awkwardness, but he kept it professional.
Without much delay, they all moved inside together.
But for Akshatha—
this was no accident.
Nagaraju kept a close watch on the man standing near the shooting set.
At that moment, no scene was being filmed. The set was relatively calm, with crew members moving casually and preparing for the next shot.
Trying to understand the situation better, Nagaraju slowly moved a little closer, subtly positioning himself near where the conversation was happening. The elder uncle followed him, sensing his intent.
He didn't interfere—just listened.
The conversation was brief, but telling.
The man holding the file spoke first. The man hwo oped the file and took some glimpse His expression showed brief excitement, but he quickly controlled it.
"I like the story… 'Maxwell Story' has potential," he said. "But the core is missing something."
He tapped the file lightly.
"I can take it. But once I buy it, it will need changes—major changes."
Then his tone became more practical.
"I can offer you two to three lakhs for the story. It's good, I agree. And I know you have experience in this field, I don't doubt that."
He paused.
"But asking me to invest further… that won't be possible."
He shook his head slightly.
"You know, this is my life savings. I can't gamble with it."
His voice softened a little.
"My son's wedding is coming soon. There are many expenses."
He gave a polite nod.
"I wish you the best of luck."
With that, he closed the discussion and began to leave as an assistant called out that the next scene was about to be announced.