A week later, I find myself staring in the bathroom mirror, watching an uncomfortable Nirvaan tap his fingers on the rim of the sink. My eyes stay firmly on my tie as my hands fly to it, fixing up its messy appearance to a neater one. I do an one over, taking in the black tie and suit with the neatly done hair. With my gaze firmly on my hair that's slicked away, I feel the urge to mess it up into its usual position. Instead I let it lie and quickly back away from the mirror as if it'll erase the strange look of my hair.
I open the door of the bathroom, facing the noisy room. The sound appears to be coming from the stereo and drunken laughter coming from footsteps on the dance floor. As predicted, Amrita had to go all out and rent a huge floor. The place has everything equipped; a dance floor, bar and an extra room for the drunk people who can't go home. To top it off, there's a place where you can eat and sit. I'm sure Diego paid for some of this, only self paid rich people could have done this.
My eyes finally spot Tina out of hundred, her pink dress spreading around her like wildfire. It swirls with the beat and her brown eyes are settled on Amrita who's lips are moving. I suddenly feel awkward with the idea of meeting up with Tina now, that now I know I'll interrupt their moment. Diego will finally ask about all the questions that he's been asking. I've successfully avoided him for the week, skillfully dodging his questions.
With no other option, I spot the balcony and move to it. It's better than the idea of being trapped in this heat with bodies that think they can dance. On my way to the outdoors, the way to feel the cold air I desire for, a waiter offers a lemonade drink - or something like that. His voice is unheard over the stereo but I still nod while grabbing the drink.
A welcome breeze of air brushes my hair and I suddenly realize how hot it was in the room. It must have been the amount of people there. With a yawn, I stretched while peering at the view. It felt like I could watch the whole world here; the stars, the moon and the fogs of my lips present here. Apparently, someone else is as well. I watch her without a word, my eyes settling on the fog that escapes her cigarette.
Her red dress falls to her knees, flowing with the harsh wind and she stands tall with her red heels. "Why did you come?" I ask her, causing Matsya to turn towards me. Her lips close shut as she realizes I must have walked in while she was lost in her world.
"Tina invited me. I thought it'll be rude to avoid coming so I came," she replies. Of course, Tina had invited her. Tina's kindness is getting on my nerves now - she's known Matsya for a week. It's an understatement to say this week went by awkwardly, it was beyond terrible.
Matsya and I had nothing to talk about without arguing. The guilt has eaten me raw but my lips never find a moment to tell her I'm sorry. The fact that we've made a habit of avoiding each other like the other is poison is enough to keep my lips shut.
"Not much of a dancer?" she asks, her eyes meeting mine. I drop my gaze, embarrassment burning red-hot in my mind. I need to say sorry. Instead, I nod and smile at her. Her lips are coated in a bold red lipstick and none of it is smeared across her pearly teeth or skin. The ciggerette limply hangs from her hands and I find myself getting disgusted at it.
"Smoking is bad for health," I remind her. Her eyes refuse to move from the skyscrapers and I find myself walking to her after I close the door. The music is tuned out and nothing but my footsteps are heard for a while. "You probably know after years of watching movies." I laugh, thinking about the clips that gave me nightmares before I sleep.
Matsya doesn't laugh. "It can kill you," I say, feeling slightly more responsible towards her. That or the health classes I was forced to take at school is coming in handy. She drops the cigarette on the floor and snubs it without another word. I barely know her and here I am, enforcing my views on her. I'm meant to apologize but again, I've lost my voice.
"Is Matsya your real name?" I question. The question causes Matsya to look at me and roll her eyes as her lips morph into a smile.
"Take a guess at what my real name is," she suggests. I take a sip of my drink instead, tasting the taste of lemon and something else. I can't put my finger on the second element and I leave it blank. It doesn't mater much anyways.
"Zaara? Simran? I don't know, I'm terrible with names," I attempt to guess. She shakes her head no, her hair flying side to side as she does so. "Then what? Should I google it?"
This causes her to laugh and I decide to carry on talking. "My parents were actually going to name me Gurpreet," I confess, causing her eyes to grow large. "They instead got my grandma to pick the name who choose Nirvaan."
"Gurpreet sure sounds like he loves his parents," Matsya comments, laughing at idea of my name being Gurpreet. I roll my eyes at her, taking another sip of my drink until her words seep in. Again, my eyes fly over the skyscrapers, looking for a familiar red rooftop. When she senses my tongue being caught (for the first time in a while), she looks at me with concern. "Don't you live with your parents?"
My heart shatters slightly and I can't seem to make a phrase to cover up the silence that falls on us. Finally, I decide to tell the truth - she'll be gone within a month. What can she possibly do with the truth? Use to it to hurt me? The damage has already been done, what's the point?
"My parents kicked me out of the house," I reply, keeping my voice upbeat and cheery as possible. With my words, Matsya turns and gasps slightly at me. My skin itches to get out of here and escape the truth but instead I take another sip of my drink. "I was eighteen and haven't seen them since."
With a frown, she tries to make sense of the words. "But you sound like the perfect desi child!" she exclaims and with a shake of my head, she raises an eyebrow. "What did you do? Flunk every test you went on?"
Her eyes only remain on me and I can't find an escape. Should I bother? If my own parents, the people who were disgusted at me couldn't accept me, why would Matsya? "I was in an argument with my parents one day about four years ago. We were yelling, screaming and I was done with my parents at that point," I start off, taking a deep breath. It's been years, why can't I tell her without hesitating?
She leans back on the railings and I decide to as well. The cool metal holds me and I find the freezing hands of it comforting. "I told them that I liked guys more than they'll like. If you didn't know, I'm bisexual and parents kicked me out of the house because I told them I wouldn't mind kissing guys!" As soon as I finish, I find myself staring at my hands.
The words were ridiculously hard to say but after saying them out loud, after admitting them, the weight on my shoulders release slightly. Droplets of tears blur my vision slightly and my breathes become slow. Eighteen years of care went to waste. It took them one sentence spoken in anger, one mere sentence of the truth to take that all away. I spent five years knowing, of hiding the truth and feeling like nothing but a broken piece as my parents turned off the TV whenever rainbow flags decorate the screen.
"Feel free to feel disgusted at me now, I don't care," I say, my eyes not meeting hers. I can hear her moving closer to me, her heels making a click click sound.
"We're at a lesbian's party and you'll think I'll be disgusted?" she asks and I move my eyes to her. Her brown eyes watch mine and I watch the flames rising in hers. "Honestly, if I ever see your parents I would fight them. Do they honestly think that they van do that? Kick out a child for no reason? That's disgusting."
"You know what? We're going there and giving them a piece of my mind," she hisses, her hands flying to my hand. They envelop mine with her warmth and I stare at her with surprise.
"Are you crazy?" I whisper as she opens the door to the party. With a turn of her wrist, the music of the party fills the peaceful outdoors. Instead of replying, she nods. I follow her body maneuvering between the crowds, coming willingly. This time, I follow her with choice without fear.
I don't even know why I told her. There was no point to it but maybe I felt like she would have understood, that her brown eyes wouldn't shamelessly judge me like my parent's. I don't bother to carry on with my sob story or how Diego had helped me with the place to live. Instead, I walk out with her and without a plan.
Am I really following the person who had me afraid for my life a week ago? The person who stole my number? Without another care, I keep a hold of the hand. Maybe I am - and maybe I'll be going to the red rooftop house today.
□
How was the chapter? It's pretty long and more interesting than the last.
Right, bisexual means that they like both guys and girls. This doesn't mean that they're more likely to cheat or have the same amount of attraction to each genders. Bisexual people have different genders they like more at times. They aren't more likely to cheat btw, that's some bullshit rumor.
If you're homophobic, the exit button is easier to press than writing a long comment on NOOOOO or whatever. Feel free to leave, not that I care.
Vote?
- Maya.