January 2000. Club Cyclops, New Zealand.
The strobe lights cut through the darkness of the set. The song Ek Pal Ka Jeena blasted from the monitors, the heavy bass reverberating in Aarav's chest.
He stood in the center of the dance floor, wearing a sheer black mesh shirt and rimless sunglasses. He looked like the epitome of the new millennium—sleek, muscular, and untouchable.
Farah Khan, the choreographer, stood with a megaphone.
"Okay, Aarav! This is the signature step. It's weird, but trust me. You have to pump the air. Like you are pulling a chain from the sky. And shuffle the feet!"
Aarav looked at the mirror. He knew this step. In the original timeline, this step turned Hrithik Roshan into a Greek God overnight. It was a move that required elasticity, explosive energy, and a rubber-like fluidity.
Aarav had Dancing Skill: Level 55. Good, but not "Hrithik" good.
System.
[Skill Challenge: The Signature Move][Requirement: Dancing Level 80+][Current Level: 55][Action: Activate 'System Overdrive' - Burns Stamina rapidly to boost Agility.]
"Activate," Aarav thought.
He felt a surge of electricity in his hamstrings. His joints felt looser, oiled by an invisible force.
"Rolling! Action!"
The beat dropped. Dun... Dun-dun... Dun...
Aarav moved.
He threw his right arm back, then snapped it forward, his body rippling with a kinetic snap that shouldn't have been possible for his frame. He shuffled his feet, gliding backward while pumping his arms.
It was hypnotic. It was electric.
"Cut!" Farah screamed, jumping up and down. "What was that? That was insane! You have no bones, Pathak!"
The background dancers clapped.
Aarav stood panting, sweat dripping down his mesh shirt. His lungs burned. The System Overdrive had drained him. He felt a wave of nausea—the cost of stealing a move that his body wasn't naturally built for.
He walked to the monitor to check the playback.
On the screen, he looked spectacular. He looked like a superstar.
But as he watched, a small, cold voice in his head whispered: It's technically perfect. But does it have the joy?
Hrithik's dance had an innocence, a joy of discovery. Aarav's dance was a conquest. It was aggressive dominance.
"It will do," Aarav muttered, grabbing a towel. "The public won't know the difference."
February 2000. The War Room, Villa Vienna.
The filming was done. Now, the real business began.
Aarav sat in his home office. The air conditioning was set to 18°C, but he was sweating.
The Bombay Stock Exchange (BSE) was in a frenzy. The Sensex had crossed 5,000. Then 5,500. Then 5,900.
It was the peak of the Dot Com Bubble. The Ketan Parekh (KP) Scam was driving stocks to astronomical valuations.
Screen 1:Wipro - Trading at P/E of 400. Screen 2:Zee Telefilms - Up 2000% in a year. Screen 3:Infosys - Hitting upper circuits daily.
Aarav held the phone. On the other end was Mr. Gupta, his broker, who sounded like he was high on adrenaline.
"Sir! Wipro just split! The value has tripled again! Your portfolio is crossing ₹85 Crores! We should hold! Experts say Sensex will touch 10,000 by Diwali!"
Aarav looked at the calendar. February 24, 2000.
He knew history. The NASDAQ would crash on March 10, 2000. The ripple effect would hit India within days. The "KP" bubble would burst, wiping out wealth faster than it was created.
"Sell," Aarav said calmly.
"What?" Gupta shrieked. "Sir, are you mad? It's a bull run!"
"Sell everything, Gupta ji," Aarav's voice was steel. "Every single share of IT and Media. Himachal Futuristic, Zee, Global Tele-Systems, Wipro, Infosys. Dump it all."
"Sir, the market can absorb small sell-offs, but you have huge volume! If we dump ₹80 Crores worth of stock, we might trigger a panic in those counters!"
"That's not my problem," Aarav said. "Do it in blocks. You have 48 hours. I want my account in cash. Zero equity exposure."
"But Sir—"
"If you don't do it, I'll call Citibank and have them execute it. Do you want the commission or not?"
Gupta gulped. "Okay, Sir. Selling."
For the next two days, Aarav watched the ticker. As his shares were sold, the numbers in his bank account started spinning like a slot machine.
₹10 Crores... ₹40 Crores... ₹75 Crores...
By February 28, 2000, the final trade was executed.
Total Liquid Cash Realized:₹108 Crores. (Approx $24 Million in 2000 exchange rates).
In an era where a big budget film cost ₹15 Crores to make, Aarav Pathak was sitting on an empire of cash.
Two weeks later, on March 10, 2000, the NASDAQ collapsed.
On March 13, the Indian markets opened lower. Then lower. Then the lower circuits hit.
Panic. Bloodbath. Suicide.
People lost their homes. Producers who had invested film money into stocks went bankrupt. Ketan Parekh's cartel began to crumble.
Aarav sat on his terrace, drinking iced tea. He was safe. He was the only man in Mumbai who was truly, untouchably safe.
[System Milestone: The Titan of Industry][Financial Goal Achieved][Current Wealth: Top 0.1% of India][Passive Effect Unlocked: 'Producer's Fear' - No producer can intimidate you with money anymore.]
June 2000. The Release of Kaho Naa... Pyaar Hai.
The hype was manufactured, but effective.
"Aarav Pathak in a Double Role!""The Millennium Superstar!"
The film released.
The audience flocked to theatres. They saw Aarav as Rohit, the sweet, poor singer. They cried when he died. Then they saw Aarav as Raj, the stylish NRI. They cheered when he danced Ek Pal Ka Jeena.
Box Office Report:Verdict:BLOCKBUSTER.Gross: ₹65 Crores.
It was a massive hit. Rakesh Roshan made a fortune. Ameesha Patel became a star.
But...
Something was missing.
The reviews were glowing, but they weren't ecstatic.
> "Aarav Pathak is flawless as always. Perhaps too flawless? We have seen him play the NRI lover in DDLJ and KNPH feels like a re-tread. The film works because of him, but one misses the raw energy of a newcomer." - India Today.
In the original timeline, Hrithik was a sensation because he was new. He was a discovery. Aarav was just... doing his job. He was the Emperor defending his territory, not a rebel storming the castle.
Aarav read the reviews and frowned. He had the hit, but he hadn't created the Mania.
And then, the Universe pushed back.
July 2000. The Magazine Cover.
Aarav walked past a newsstand in Juhu. He stopped.
On the cover of Stardust was a face he knew well. But the expression was new.
Hrithik Roshan.
But not the clean-shaven, sweet Hrithik. This Hrithik had a stubble, intense eyes, and a scarf wrapped around his face like a militant.
Headline:"THE ANGRY SON RISES"Subtitle:"Dropped from his father's film, Hrithik Roshan shines in Vidhu Vinod Chopra's 'Mission Kashmir'. Is he the Anti-Hero we've been waiting for?"
Aarav picked up the magazine.
The story inside detailed how Rakesh Roshan, unable to cast his son, had sent him to Vidhu Vinod Chopra. Chopra, seeing the boy's intensity and hunger (fueled by the rejection), had cast him as Altaaf, the terrorist in Mission Kashmir.
In the original timeline, Mission Kashmir released in late 2000, after KNPH made Hrithik a star. In this timeline, Mission Kashmir was Hrithik's Debut.
The narrative was writing itself: Aarav Pathak is the Establishment. The polished, rich, commercial King.Hrithik Roshan is the Rebel. The rejected son. The intense, serious Actor.
The public loves an underdog. And Aarav had just made Hrithik the ultimate underdog.
Aarav tossed the magazine into the trash can.
"Well played, Universe," he whispered. "You want a war? I'll give you a war."
August 2000. The Phone Call.
Aarav was at home with Preity. They were watching a movie.
His phone rang. It was Aditya Chopra.
"Aarav," Adi sounded serious. "I'm casting for Mohabbatein."
"I know," Aarav said. "The three students. And the strict principal. Amitabh Bachchan is playing the Principal, right?"
"Yes," Adi paused. "And I need the music teacher. Raj Aryan."
"I'm ready, Adi. Let's do it."
"Wait," Adi hesitated. "Shah Rukh came to meet me yesterday."
Aarav stiffened. "And?"
"He wants the role, Aarav. He is practically begging. He says he needs a hit after Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani flopped. He says Mohabbatein is his zone."
"Adi," Aarav said, his voice dropping an octave. "Who is your Raj?"
"You are," Adi said instantly. "But... Shah Rukh is offering to do it for free. He just wants a backend share."
"I'll do it for free too," Aarav countered. "And I don't want a share. I'll do it as a gift to Yash Raj Films."
Silence on the other end. To work for free on a massive budget film was insanity. But Aarav had ₹108 Crores in the bank. He didn't need the salary. He needed to deny Shah Rukh the platform.
"You're crazy," Adi breathed. "But okay. You're on."
Aarav hung up.
Preity looked at him. "You just gave up ₹5 Crores?"
"I bought insurance," Aarav said. "Shah Rukh in Mohabbatein would recover his career. If I take it... he has nowhere to go."
[System Warning][Action: Excessive Aggression][Consequence: Shah Rukh Khan is cornered.][Prediction: A cornered tiger attacks. Expect Unpredictable Moves.]
September 2000. The Party.
Aarav attended the success party of Har Dil Jo Pyar Karega (Salman's film).
The mood was light. Salman was hugging everyone.
Then, he saw him.
Hrithik Roshan.
He was there with Sanjay Dutt (his Mission Kashmir co-star).
Hrithik saw Aarav.
The room went quiet. The "King" vs the "Prince in Exile".
Hrithik walked up to Aarav. He didn't smile. He looked older than his years. The rejection had hardened him.
"Aarav sir," Hrithik nodded respectfully.
"Hrithik," Aarav smiled, the polite senior. "I saw the trailer of Mission Kashmir. You look intense."
"I had to be," Hrithik said, his voice steady. "My father made a lovely film. It made a lot of money. But he couldn't make it with me."
It was a direct hit.
"Business is business, Duggu," Aarav said coolly.
"True," Hrithik's eyes flashed. "But Mission Kashmir isn't business for me. It's personal. See you at the theatres, Sir."
Hrithik walked away.
Aarav watched him go. He felt a shiver.
In the original timeline, Hrithik was a sweet, confused boy overwhelmed by stardom. This Hrithik was focused. He was hungry. He was dangerous.
Aarav turned to the bar. "Double scotch."
He had the money. He had the fame. But the 2000s were not going to be the cake walk the 90s were.
The New Wave was coming.
[End of Chapter 12]