Categories: Fan Fiction Original

Bad Blood (Previously BAMBOOZLED) (A Var-Hell FanFic) Prologue (ReWritten) (By Bisha)

HELLO FRIENDS. It’s Bisha. This story was previously Titled as – “Bamboozled”. I changed the story title. Read the reason below and do tell me if you like the title or not. I may return to my old title if y’all find that title better. This is a Var-Hell Fanfic, i.e, Varun Kapoor and Helly Shah Fanfic.

CAST:

* Varun Kapoor as Lorenzo Nicolson

* Helly Shah as Christie Jameson

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“Band aids can’t fix bullet holes”
~ Taylor Swift (“Bad Blood”)

Band aids can never fix wounds caused by bullets. A sorry can never fix or substitute for a cheated love which was once passionate and mad. You love someone truly, deeply, madly. But one day you wake up to find out that his love for you was only to fulfil his own damn mission. How do you feel? Can love be that much of a hallucination? Did he never felt a single feeling for you?

When Christie Jameson learns that the person for whom she gave her soul; her everything— had just come to cheat her, her world turns topsy-turvy. She finds it immensely hard to believe that he never felt anything for her. What will she do now? Will she ransack him out for revenge? Or will she move on and shut it up inside a closet deep in her heart forever? Will she be able to achieve that?

A doctor by profession, 25 years old Christie had everything in her to be called as ‘beauty with brains’. She wasn’t a perfectly beautiful damsel, but she had a flawless brownish skin. Her eyes, nose and rosy lips were aptly carved and aptly positioned which made her all beautiful even if she wasn’t that milky fair. She is calm, quiet, strong and optimistic. Well, she holds many things under her skin but never fails to give others hope.

Lorenzo Nicolson is a 25 years old student, pursuing his PhD in history. Apparently, he is a gentleman, can be anyone’s knight in the shining armour. He has a strong built muscular body, his dark, deep eyes has many things hidden and a cruelty in him which is considered as s*xy by the women. Girls go gaga over him and he can furiously flirt with a girl until she goes on her knees for him. He is a knowledgeable man too. He understands antiques and ancient history very well. He can easily distinguish an original antique from a fake one. But these all are his exterior. His interior is hell different which unfolds as the story unfolds. The folds of this story are based on his folded interior only.

Now, it is obvious to you all that they will meet and eventually fall in love, or, rather will be made to fall in love. Now, how they fall and how they crack up is a part of the story. It is also obvious to y’all that they will be broken up too. But what do you think about the reasons? A cheesy triangle love? My answer is— No. Just a sharp game plan, the check — and they unite; the mate— and they split. The reason will be unraveled in the story itself. Read it to get the full ideas of it.

Note: NO CHARACTERS ARE PERFECT; NEITHER IN LOOKS NOR IN CHARACTERIZATION.

So come with Christie and Lorenzo on their journey of feebly tied mysterious love.

This is a song fiction type romantic love story. ‘Bad Blood ‘is one of my favourite songs for its strong lyrics. As I was listening to it one day, I found the lyrics matching the story plot. Hence, I made it a song- fiction. Actual story idea came after listening to a Bengali horror story by Manoj Sen. But this one is not a horror story, a pure romantic-love-revenge-breakup type story. Though the characters bear a foreign name, the story is set in India.

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Prologue

The cold December winds sent chills through Christie’s body and soul. She had her all winter robes on, still, she felt cold and distressed. As if her love had left her, when she knew she did not have any. She mentally laughed on that thought. She was sitting in her enormous and elegant room, obviously by her window. Otherwise, how would she feel such chills?

She had a long day that day. She was completely exhausted and hence she had made herself a cup of hot chocolate and placed herself by her sit-by window that occupied almost half of the wall, enjoying the frozen charm of the nature. She thought of studying her medical books once more. She had completed her house-staff ship just a few months ago. Now, officially she was Dr. Christie Jameson. She had always wanted to put that very prefix in front of her name. Being a doctor was her dreams since the cradle.
Christie’s father, Mr. Alec Jameson, was the descendant of one of the few Anglo-Indian zamindars of Bengal. Her father’s great grandfather had come here with the East India Company and he eventually ruled the estate of Kusumpur in Darjeeling, obviously with the help of the British invaders. Gradually he fell in love with the rural Bengal’s charms, married a Bengali girl and settled in here. Since then, Christie’s family has been one of the most respectable families in the whole West Bengal. Christies’ great, great grandfather had only built this elegant Victorian palace in the outskirts of Kusumpur. People say that the palace itself is a grand antique piece, let alone the things it possessed. Although that old golden charisma of them has long gone, the Jameson’s still managed to keep their grandeur. Christie’s father was a retired advocate. She had lost her mother just after her birth. Hence she did not know how motherly love would feel like. But her father was always with her in her life’s journey and never pressurized her on anything. Her father had filled her world till now, and will go on to be so. Or, at least that’s what she thought. This softness of her father had helped her take the decisions always and hence, she ended up being a doctor.

Christie brushed aside all those philosophical thoughts wandering inside her mind and closed the window. The room heater was switched on. And gradually the heat radiated warmed her body. She read a book on neurology, her favourite subject and closed the book when the clock struck 2 in the night. Then she switched off her study lamp and plopped on her soft bed. She just once thought she should sleep or not, considering the nightmares she would face with. Then she thought,’ Whoa Christie! Tomorrow is another hectic day. And remember, the new tenant is going to come tomorrow. So you better gulp in the sleeping pills and close your eyes.’ She rolled her eyes at her brain and complied with its suggestions. Soon she was asleep. Or, that’s what she thought so.

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A/N

So this is the prologue of the story. If you read the description, you will get to know why I changed the title. Do suggest me if I should go on with this new title or keep the old one back.

And, if you like it, please leave a comment on your thoughts.

Love you all.

Keep Smiling…

Bisha

Band aids can't fix bullet holes.

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