The heavy velvet drapes of the guest suite were drawn shut, blocking out the fading amber light of the late afternoon. Inside, the room was dimly lit, save for the flickering, vibrant glow of a massive flat-screen television mounted on the wall.

Aradhya sat cross-legged on the edge of the oversized bed, her body still aching from the morning's brutality. On the screen, a live concert broadcast of a fellow pop star played on mute. The subtitles scrolled across the bottom while the artist moved dynamically across the stage, hitting impossibly high notes and working the massive crowd.