I AM AN ORDINARY PERSON (Indian Movies Fanfic)

"3RD PERSON POV"

"SAME NIGHT"

Somewhere in the heart of the city, inside a luxurious mansion dimly lit by chandeliers, Seetharam sat on a velvet sofa, surrounded by his armed security. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the wooden armrest, each tap echoing in the otherwise silent room like a ticking clock.

Across from him, Sarma and Varma sat tensely, beads of sweat glistening on their foreheads despite the air-conditioned chill. Their eyes kept flicking toward Sukumari—Varma's daughter and Abhishikth's girlfriend—who stood frozen near the wall, a pistol aimed at her head. Parag held the gun steady, not moving, not blinking.

Not far from Seetharam, Appaji, Abhishikth's uncle, sat calmly in a high-backed chair, legs crossed, hands folded neatly. His presence was unnervingly composed, like a man watching a stage play rather than a brewing crisis.

The only sound in the room was Seetharam's fingers—tap, tap, tap.

Then, finally, without turning his head, Seetharam spoke in a low, measured tone. "Any news? It's been hours since they left… to kill Aravind."

The question hung in the air like smoke.

Parag shifted slightly, his voice cautious as he replied, "Nothing yet, boss. But I think we're waiting for nothing. Maybe we involving him without reason—"

Before Parag could finish his sentence, Seetharam's gaze snapped toward him, his face twisting with fury.

"Without a reason, you say?" Seetharam's voice was low but seethed with anger. "Do you understand that the bastard already told Indrani and Abhishikth that I killed Govinda and Mohan? Before we even found out his real identity? We don't even know if that son of a bitch, Aravind Raghavan, is just some damn café owner or if there's something more to him. And why the hell is he getting in my way? That bastard has ruined my plan! An unknown enemy is far more dangerous than a known one, do you understand?!"

The air in the room thickened with tension, and Parag's heart pounded in his chest. Sweat dotted his brow, his mouth dry. He nodded quickly, a slight tremor in his voice.

"Y-yes, boss," he stammered, trying to keep his composure under Seetharam's intense glare.

Seetharam's fury wasn't over. His hand slammed the armrest of the sofa, the sound echoing throughout the room. "Then what the hell are you staring at me for?" he snapped. "Call them! See if they killed him or not! Don't just stood there looking like an idiot!"

Parag quickly nodded, his hands trembling as he pulled out his phone and dialed. His eyes flickered nervously from one person to the next, but as the call rang out with no response, the sweat on his forehead began to bead. After a few moments, his face paled, and he turned back to Seetharam.

"Bo-boss," he stammered, "All of their phones are switched off."

Seetharam's gaze turned cold as he looked at the ground, deep in thought. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Then, after a tense pause, Seetharam spoke, his voice low but deadly.

"Useless all of them are useless, they're dead by now." His eyes shot up, fixing on Parag with a terrifying calmness. "Arrange a voting tomorrow, for the CEO's position. You need to stop Aravind and Abhishikth from entering the company, no matter what it takes. Or I'll kill you myself."

Parag's face drained of color. He nodded quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the weight of Seetharam's words hanging over him like an executioner's axe. Seetharam sighed heavily, then turned to Varma and Sarma, his mood shifting slightly, but still sharp.

"Don't take your gun off Varma's daughter, Parag. He needs to vote for me tomorrow," Seetharam ordered coldly, his eyes narrowing. "And as for you, Sarma…" His voice trailed off as he stood up, walking briskly over to the table. Without another word, he picked up a gun and stalked toward Sarma.

The room felt like it was closing in. Sarma's breath hitched as Seetharam leveled the gun at his forehead, the cold metal pressing against his skin. The danger in Seetharam's eyes was unmistakable.

"If you value your life," Seetharam said, his voice devoid of emotion, "vote for me."

Sarma's eyes widened in fear, and his hands shook as he nodded quickly. "Y-yes, Seetharam," he whispered, his voice barely audible, his body rigid with terror.

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"3RD PERSON POV"

"NEXT MORNING"

The morning sun poured in through the window, warm and golden, casting a soft glow across the bedroom. Aravind lay fast asleep, his breathing calm, face relaxed. Beside him, Suryakantham clung to him tightly in sleep, her face buried against his chest, lost in dreams. The quiet peace of morning wrapped around them like a blanket.

Then, the sharp sound of a phone ringing shattered the silence. Aravind's hand moved lazily, fumbling across the nightstand without opening his eyes. He picked up the phone and brought it to his ear, voice still heavy with sleep.

"Yeah?" he muttered.

Bala's voice came through the speaker, tense and urgent. "Boss, we've got a problem."

Aravind cracked one eye open, groaning. "What now?"

"It's Miss Indrani," Bala said quickly. "She just announced that AB Group is voting for their next CEO. The meeting is today."

Aravind let out a deep sigh, rubbing his face with one hand. "Can't a man sleep in peace for once? Why wasn't I told about this earlier?"

"I'm sorry, boss," Bala replied, sounding genuinely anxious. "I didn't know either. I just found out—it's all over the news right now."

Aravind sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What a damn mess… Did you call them? When does the voting start?"

"I did," Bala replied. "Right after I saw the news. They didn't give any reason for not informing us earlier, but the voting is set for 11 a.m."

Aravind glanced at the table clock—8:00 a.m.

"I'll be there in an hour or so. Meet me at the company," he said.

"Okay, boss," Bala answered, and the call ended.

Aravind placed the phone back on the table and looked down. Suryakantham was awake, her sleepy eyes watching him. She must've woken up during the call.

Aravind smiled softly and leaned down to kiss her forehead. His hand gently patted her head. "Did I wake you up?"

She shook her head and whispered, "Did something happen?"

Aravind nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Yeah, we need to head to AB Group. The voting for the new CEO is happening today."

Suryakantham leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then nodded. Aravind smiled again, his heart a little lighter.

Some time later, Aravind stood calmly in the living room, wearing a casual, long-sleeved plaid shirt with the sleeves neatly folded above his forearms. The shirt had a classic olive green and black checkered pattern with subtle hints of navy. He paired it with black chinos, his hands tucked into his pockets as he silently watched the television. A news channel was playing, showing live coverage outside the AB Group building—reporters, cameramen, and people rushing around in chaos. His hair was slightly messy, yet somehow perfectly in shape, adding to his effortless charm.

As Aravind remained focused on the screen, Suryakantham walked into the living room, freshly dressed in formal clothes. She paused for a moment, glancing around. Something about the room felt... off. Different from yesterday. The energy, the air, even the silence—it all seemed altered.

She looked at Aravind and softly called out, "Aaru?"

Aravind turned his head and looked at her, a warm smile forming on his lips. "What's up? You look lovely as always."

Suryakantham smiled at the compliment and walked closer to him. As she neared, she looked around once more and said, "Aaru, for some reason I feel like something's changed in the living room. Do you feel it too?"

Hearing her words, Aravind glanced around the room like an innocent child, then looked back at Suryakantham with a straight face and said, "Nope. Must be your imagination."

He said it so casually, as if nothing had happened the previous night.

Suryakantham nodded slowly. "Yeah… maybe."

Aravind smiled and, in one smooth motion, slid his hand around her waist and pulled her closer. Locking eyes with her, he said playfully, "I think you're still exhausted from last night's… activities."

Suryakantham chuckled, resting her hands gently behind his neck. "And whose fault is that, Mister?" she teased with a smirk.

Aravind rolled his eyes with a grin. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, let's get going. We're already running late."

Suryakantham nodded. Aravind let go of her and turned off the TV and together, they walked toward the door.

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"3RD PERSON POV"

"SOMETIMES LATER"

The entrance of AB Group was packed with reporters. Camera flashes lit up the area, and a constant stream of questions echoed in the air like buzzing flies.

A black car rolled to a stop a few meters from the main gate. As the door opened, Aravind stepped out, stretching his arms casually. Suryakantham followed, her heels clicking softly on the pavement. Aravind glanced around, scanning the crowd.

"Where's Bala?" he muttered.

Suryakantham walked up beside him, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "Why didn't you call him?"

"I did," Aravind replied, keeping his eyes on the crowd. "He's not picking up."

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a group of stern-looking security guards approached quickly and surrounded them. Suryakantham instinctively moved behind Aravind, tension rising in her posture.

One of the guards stepped forward, expression cold. "Come with us quietly. Or we'll be forced to act."

Aravind sighed, clearly unimpressed. Raising his hands lazily in the air, he looked back at Suryakantham and said dryly, "Now we know why Bala isn't answering his phone."

Suryakantham gave a small nervous nod, staying close behind him as the security prepared to escort them in.

On the rooftop of the AB Group building, Abhishikth stood surrounded by a few guards. A short distance away, Bala, Varma, and Sukumari were seated on a long sofa. Parag stood nearby, holding a gun close to his side, eyes scanning the area. The air was thick with tension, like a storm waiting to break.

Just then, the rooftop door opened. Aravind and Suryakantham walked out, flanked by security. Aravind looked around casually, as if he had just arrived at a late brunch.

"Hello, people. How's it going?" he asked with a smirk.

Abhishikth chuckled. "As you can see, everything's going just fine. We were just waiting for you to start the party."

Aravind rolled his eyes.

One of the guards stepped forward. "Move."

"Chill, man," Aravind said lazily, brushing him off with a wave of his hand. He turned to Suryakantham with a smile. "Go ahead, take a seat. Enjoy the show."

Suryakantham hesitated, looking at Aravind with concern. She clearly didn't want to leave his side. But seeing the calmness in his smile, she slowly nodded and walked toward the sofa, sitting down beside Sukumari.

Aravind then turned and strolled toward Abhishikth, stopping beside him. He stood there without a trace of fear, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp and unreadable.

Looking at Aravind, Abhishikth said, "You're quite late."

Aravind shrugged casually. "Man, next time something like this happens, give me a call. That way, I can stay home and avoid all this drama."

Abhishikth rolled his eyes at the remark.

Just then, one of the guards, clearly irritated by their calm conversation, lunged at Aravind and threw a punch with full force. Aravind tilted his head slightly and dodged it with ease. Another guard attacked Abhishikth at the same time, forcing him to step back and deflect.

Still unbothered, Aravind glanced at Abhishikth and said, "Hey Abhi, you're trained in martial arts, right?"

While dodging another punch, Abhishikth replied dryly, "If you already know, why ask?"

Aravind smirked and leaned back to avoid a swing, then, in one swift motion, delivered a casual kick to the attacker's stomach. The guard's eyes widened in shock as blood splattered from his mouth and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

The remaining guards suddenly stiffened, visibly tense after witnessing the effortless takedown.

Aravind turned to Abhishikth with a calm look and said, "Just confirming. So… shall we wrap this up quickly?"

Abhishikth nodded, his eyes narrowing.

The tension cracked like thunder. The remaining guards rushed in, some pulling out batons, others going barehanded.

One of the guards charged at Abhishikth with a metal baton raised high. Abhishikth sidestepped fluidly and slammed his elbow into the man's throat, cutting off his breath mid-swing. Without wasting a second, he spun and landed a spinning backfist across another guard's temple, sending him crashing into the rooftop railing with a grunt.

Aravind moved with terrifying calm. A man tried to tackle him from behind, but Aravind turned at the last second, grabbed his arm, and twisted it until a crack echoed in the air. The man screamed, dropping to his knees, only for Aravind to knee him in the face, knocking him out cold.

Abhishikth ducked under a wild punch, grabbed the attacker's wrist, and flipped him over his shoulder with brutal force. The guard landed with a sickening thud, groaning as he clutched his back. Another came at him with a knife. Abhishikth caught the man's wrist, forced the blade into his own thigh, then elbowed him in the nose, breaking it instantly.

Meanwhile, Aravind move precise, effortless, and lethal. One guard swung a baton at his head. Aravind caught it mid-air with one hand, yanked it away, and slammed it into the man's ribs, making him cough up blood. He twirled the baton like a blade and struck another in the knee, then the collarbone. The crack was sharp—he was down.

Two guards tried to overwhelm Abhishikth, grabbing his arms. He roared and twisted his body, slamming both their heads together. One dropped instantly, the other stumbled back, dazed—long enough for Abhishikth to send a boot straight into his chest, knocking him over a bench.

Another guard, trembling but desperate, yanked a pistol from his belt. His hand rose, aiming shakily at Aravind.

But Aravind had already moved.

In one swift motion, he ripped a combat knife from the belt of the unconscious guard at his feet. The metal glinted under the rooftop sun—cold, sharp, and merciless.

The gunman's finger had just begun to squeeze the trigger when Aravind hurled the knife like a viper.

Slice.

A scream tore through the air. The blade buried deep into the man's forearm, slicing through tendons and muscle. Blood sprayed out in an arc as the gun clattered to the ground, useless.

The man stumbled back, clutching his mangled arm, eyes wide in disbelief. Aravind was already on him.

He grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him face-first into a nearby concrete pillar. Crack. Nose broken. As the guard collapsed to the floor, Aravind didn't stop.

He picked up the fallen gun, flipped it in his hand, and pistol-whipped the man across the temple. Skin split, blood poured. The man was out cold—or worse.

"Play stupid games…" Aravind muttered, tossing the gun aside.

Parag's face twisted with rage as he saw his men scattered across the rooftop—bloodied, groaning, or lying still. Humiliation burned in his chest, pride shattered.

With a yell, he charged toward Aravind and Abhishikth like a rabid animal, the gun still in his hand but shaking too much to aim properly.

Abhishikth moved first—quick, clean. He stepped to the side, and as Parag rushed past him, Abhishikth struck the inside of his elbow with a sharp elbow of his own. Parag cried out, the gun flying from his grip and skidding across the rooftop.

Before he could recover, Aravind was already in front of him.

Crack!

A sharp punch landed on Parag's jaw, snapping his head sideways. Blood flew from his mouth as he stumbled, but Aravind didn't give him room to breathe.

Another punch—straight to the ribs.

Thud!

Parag doubled over, coughing violently, the wind knocked clean out of him.

Abhishikth stepped in from the side and drove his knee into Parag's stomach. The sickening sound of impact was followed by bile rising in Parag's throat as he dropped to his knees, gasping.

Abhishikth grabbed Parag's hair and pull his head back.

Aravind walked around slowly, his expression calm. Then, without a word, he raised his leg and stomped on Parag's chest, sending him flat on his back.

Parag tried to crawl away, blood dripping from his mouth, his hands slipping on the rooftop tiles.

Abhishikth kicked him hard in the ribs—once, twice—until a crack echoed. Parag screamed, a raw, broken sound that made even the nearby staff flinch.

Still not enough.

Aravind grabbing him by the collar began to punch. Not flashy. Not fast. But with purpose. Each blow landed with a dull thud—temple, cheekbone, nose, mouth. Blood ran freely now. Parag's hands weakly tried to defend, but there was no strength left in them.

The final punch came swift and brutal—straight to his temple.

Thwack.

Parag's eyes rolled back. His limbs went limp. And just like that, he collapsed to the rooftop, unconscious. A smear of blood trailed where his head hit the tiles.