The apartment was a battlefield, that night.
Standing at the doorstep, I could hear the ongoing heated arguments and muffled screams, which emerged from inside the apartment. Forcefully, I knocked once on the wooden main-door and shuffled my feet on the tiled-floor, while I anticipated for someone to open the door. But the loudness of the chaos which stirred within the apartment dominated the sound of the knock that I had to bang my palm against the door, forcing it to shake briefly. Seconds later, Nash held the door open, and without wasting a second, she wrapped her hand around my wrist, and dragged me inside, with a worried expression smeared on her face.
"Get in!", Nash hissed, and slammed the door shut, locking it twice. "What's happening?", I questioned blankly, and turned around to lay my eyes on Vaish and Chanch, who stood opposite to each other, but a great distance away from one another. Vaish turned tomato red and was drenched in tears, while Chanch looked extremely furious; she inhaled and exhaled so deeply that her back rose and fell rapidly. "Guys, I can hear you outside. Lower your volumes", I advised softly. "What happened?", I whispered and turned to look at Nash, who shrugged her shoulders, looking clueless. "I literally just returned home", Nash answered. "Vaish, Chanch, enough! Quit fighting", Nash commanded, sternly.
"I lose it at times, Chanchal; it happens and I believe it is okay, all of us are humans, after all! I've had a long and tiring day, and I lost control on my temper. I'm sorry about it. But that does not give you the rights to call me a psycho, or whatever!", Vaish argued, or rather, cried hard, and ignored Nash's order. "This happens every other day, Vaish. Stop blaming your tight schedule that does not even exist. And why am I always your punching bag? Why don't you vent out your frustration on Nash, why only me? It is not my responsibility to bear your anger, and listen to your sarcastic taunts, when you're not in a good mood, understand, Vaish? Learn to get hold of self-control, and if you cannot do that, I'd suggest you to visit a therapist", Chanch bitterly said. "Chanch, mind your words; that's enough!", Nash warned and Chanch wildly turned in her direction. "Of course, Nash, why won't you support her? You have always favoured her; I don't even know what's special about her", Chanch huffed, throwing her hands in the air. "You're making this up, Chanchal. The three of us know that I have supported you way more than I've supported Vaish. It's not between Vaish and you; it's between what's right and what's wrong, Chanch, and right now, you are wrong", Nash argued, angrily. "And you shouldn't have called her names; that's the worst you could do to anyone", Nash pointed out. "What's wrong in stating facts? I spend time with her more than you do, and trust me, she behaves like a psych—", Chanch abruptly fell silent, when Vaish stormed towards her and slapped her hard on her right cheek. It was one hard slap that Chanch's cheek turned red within nanoseconds, and tears turned her wide eyes moist. "Don't talk to me. Ever", Vaish shakily said, through her gritted teeth, and pointed her index finger at Chanch, who gawked at her in disbelief with tears streaming down her cheeks.
The living room fell pin-drop silent, as Vaish pinned Chanch down with an angry glare for thirty whole seconds. "You're the worst!", Vaish spat on Chanch's face in a cry, and stormed away from her, towards the main-door. "Hey, Vaish, don't! It's too late", I worriedly said, blocking her way, and she stood to her ground, taking a sharp breath in. "Dityaa, move", she ordered, calmly, keeping her gaze fixed on the tiled floor. "Listen---", I attempted to explain. "MOVE!", she demanded, and unconsciously in fear, I shuffled to my side, making way for her. She unlocked the main-door, wildly dragged it open and left the apartment. "You're impossible, Chanch", Nash exhaled, disappointedly, and rushed behind Vaish, stranding me with Chanch and buzzing silent. The main-door clicked shut, but the two of us stood as still as a statue, where I looked at Chanch in hesitation and Chanch stared at the floor, looking absolutely lost.
"Don't mind me interfering in your personal matter...", I cleared my throat, and my single voice sharply echoed in the empty living room. "...but you were wrong on your side, Chanchal. I may not exactly be your friend, but I share this apartment with you and if you're wrong somewhere, it's my duty to let you know", I explained, softly, and Chanch simply listened on, without moving a muscle. "See, even I'm extremely short-tempered...", I tried to speak, but Chanch cut me off. "I'm not short-tempered, Dityaa. I've been holding it in for a long time, I lost it and I don't know how...I didn't intend to call her names; it's just that I didn't know what I was saying", Chanch justified and cried hard. "I know Vaish has mood swings and she gets extremely annoyed and angry and irritated at times...and I try hard to cope with her mood, but I'll fail at times. It's hard to keep up with the drama, after a tiring day at University. I'm human, too, man", Chanch hiccupped and patiently, I listened to every word that left her mouth. "Nash knows how fragile Vaish is, and that's why she keeps supporting her all the time. Just because I don't express enough, Nash thinks I'm strong and that gives her a reason to take a stand for Vaish, all the time! I feel so isolated, even when I have people around me. Don't you think Nash is being unfair?", Chanch looked up at me, through her teary eyes. "Maybe, she is. But do you think it's entirely their fault? Have you expressed yourself enough, Chanchal? If something doesn't make you feel good, then it's your duty to tell the other person that you do not feel good. Help yourself, Chanchal, because no one will. I do blame Nash for being lenient, but by the end of the day, I can only blame you for your condition because you asked for this. You are responsible for you. No one's going to read your mind; you need to let the voice of your mind out to the world. It's your fault for bottling up your emotions and making adjustments; ultimately, one day, the bottle will explode and you'll run out of space to make adjustments and then, you'll be left with tears and pain; truckloads of it! See, I know that my words aren't making things any better for you, but I want you to understand that you cannot set yourself on fire, and blame the other person for it. Be open and do not give a fuck about what the world thinks about you, or about the people who would leave you for your honesty. If being straightforward makes you a bad person through the eyes of the world, then let it be that way because what matters more than their opinion is your peace of mind and mental well-being. You deserve to be at peace and only then will you be able to make peace with the world. Next time anyone does anything to you that doesn't make you feel good, say it to them on their face, understand?", I lectured Chanch, who took a moment to nod in agreement. "Better", I muttered, as Chanch wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "Shall I, um...shall I cook something for dinner?", I offered. "Thanks, but I'm going to sleep. I'm tired", Chanch whispered, and I smiled at her, letting her walk away.
♥
At 09.50 p.m., I stood on my favourite spot and watched the swiftly moving city from high up, with a mug of coffee, which drove the tiredness away; it was one beautifully captivating view I'd never want to detach myself from, ever. Just then, my iPhone beeped, loudly, on the dinner table, and thinking that it was my mom, I hurried out of the balcony to answer the call. Because I didn't want to answer the call on the third or fourth ring and get lectured about how unimportant she became, once I moved out. But to my surprise, it was an incoming call from Darshan. I stood to my ground, inches away from my iPhone, and stared at my iPhone screen, allowing it to ring three more times, before answering his call.
"Hello, Dityaa speaking", I said, casually, and strolled towards the balcony. "Darshan Raval here", he said back. "Darshan Raval; sorry, Darshan Raval, who?", I teased, biting the corner of my lower lip. "Dityaa Ma'am, I'm your biggest fan, ma'am. Please talk to me", Darshan joined the play, making me smile widely. "Sorry, wrong number", monotonously, I threw his dialogue back on him, and we shared a light laugh. "You took forever to answer my call and you said the dialogue; the scores are settled between us now, right?", Darshan asked and I smiled, looking into my coffee mug. "Boss, what's up with the sudden phone call?", I questioned, leaning against the balcony railing. "Just wanted to double-check if you reached home", Darshan prompted. "Reach home. Sorted a fight. Lectured a friend. Jumped into my pajamas, and now, I'm in my balcony with a cup of coffee", I listed out, and took a sip of my coffee. "Wow, that's productive", Darshan sounded impressed. "What are you doing, though?", I questioned. "None of your business", Darshan answered. "I'll slap you", I snapped, and he chuckled in his deep voice. "Just reached home, and I think I'll spend the night in the studio, I don't know", Darshan vaguely revealed. "Oh, the celebrity doesn't spend time with his girlfriend...", I said. "That was an extremely smart attempt to know about my relationship status, but I'm smarter. Just ask about it, without beating around the bush!", Darshan sighed. "I don't want to know your relationship status, what will I do with that?", I defended. "Maybe, you'll attempt to win my heart if I happen to be single", Darshan guessed. "Oh, fuck you! You think too high of yourself", I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I am Darshan Raval!", he bragged. "Big deal", monotonously, I said. "You have a flat nose, a wide forehead, non-existent eyebrows and a scar on your nose, which is shaped like a parabola; I hope these facts keep you grounded and makes you realize that you're one of us", I commented. "You're so judgmental!", Darshan accused. "And...look, I know I'm good-looking but that doesn't mean you'll gaze at me all day at work. I believe in evil eyes", Darshan said. "Oh God, please. My roomie, Vaishali, is a big fan and she has stuck huge-ass pictures of you in our bedroom; there's no way I can ignore your big face. Everything about you is extremely big", I blabbered, stupidly, and silence echoed on the line for a long, long while. "Uhm...if you said this in front of the media, they would have asked you – 'How do you know it's big? Have you seen it?", Darshan said, slowly, confusing me. "What you just said sounds extremely wrong, kid", Darshan joked, and my jaw dropped open, and touched the floor, when it struck me. "YUCK. DISGUSTING! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?", I screamed my lungs out and he laughed, hysterically. "YOU'RE SO DIRTY. THAT WASN'T EVEN ON MY MIND. GO SLEEP, DARSHAN", I barked and cut the call on his face.
That was extremely embarrassing that I didn't want to face him for the next two lives!
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Teen Fiction[COMPLETED]. When Dityaa moves to Mumbai with big dreams and a vision, things don't quite go her way. The struggle to survive in an unknown city is real. Living up to her expectations becomes a battle, coping with her worried mother becomes difficul...
