The standard beauty vision of an average person will always consist of an illuminating and breath-taking figure. That being said, the best way to describe a beautiful woman was based on various concepts. These concepts ― whether, thought from a western point of view or eastern, which in my case was authentic Indian ― always described a woman with dazzling silky hair, waving about in the wind, red luscious lips and black smoldering eyes, accompanied with a thick yet slim body. These concepts, never changed. Even with the change in clothes and jewellery.
The concepts didn't change and I couldn't withhold any of those standards at my current situation. If anything at all, I possessed the quite opposite of the average beautiful woman standards.
Indeed, I looked terrible.
I suddenly had come to realise how ridiculous my attire was. I was going to a club in a pair of light-blue faded jeans and a ridiculously old oversized black t-shirt, with the words 'Killing it' in all caps & bold letters, which I had tucked into my jeans. My jeans were supported to my waist by an old worn out belt and my hair was tied in a low, loose-tied ponytail.
Did Aahan even consider my attire before suggesting us to move into a club? I think not.
Either he was out of his mind for dragging me in these clothes in a club filled with people dressing up to look their utmost beautiful self or he was trying to make fun of me. Which would make sense, because him being so sweet was just so unusual? I was now very sceptical.
"You're doing that again." He said, pulling the car in a parking space. We had just arrived at Andheri near a club called Utsav which was owned by his friend.
"It's nothing," I said, shaking my head slightly. In an attempt to look better, I pulled my hair out of its hair tie and let it fall over my shoulders. I looked into the review mirror of the car to quickly catch a glimpse of my face. I had absolutely no makeup on and my frizzy locks of raven black hair fell in aggressive volumes down my back. It was just a mess. I was a mess.
"You look fine." He said from beside me. I turned to look at him, surprised at how easily he had guessed my thoughts once again. He stared into my eyes as a tiny smile played along the lines of his lips.
"I mean yeah, your hair is a nest and birds could be living in it but, half the people in there are drunk." He then shrugged at me, stepping out of his car leaving me dumbfounded.
This man... He definitely gets on my nerves.
Gritting my teeth together, I stepped out of the car, embracing the cool wind. My clothes were still a tiny bit drenched from the earlier rain shower, but I didn't care anymore. The past few days nothing had gone as planned. At this point, I was rolling with the punches.
I followed Aahan, pulling my hair back into a low ponytail, suddenly very cautious and aware of how it had looked when it was open. A nest, where birds could live in. I was already blushing in embarrassment.
After passing by the entrance of a building, we entered dark passage lit with neon signs of party words against its walls. The passage ended with a hike up some stairs which in turn made us come across the medium size party hall, where people dance in one side of the room while on the other side some sat and ate food while drinking with friends. Or my personal favourite ate each other's faces.
The west side of the room was decked with a long bar and at the end of such, there was a door through which waiters would come and go with either orders or empty plates. The east of the room was completely made out of glass windows overlooking the city and its street at night nine am.
Aahan passed by many people, most of whom we came across were drunk, as he had mentioned earlier and a few who knew him very well here, for they would clap hands on his back or hug him.
This made me realize, this was his territory. This placed called Utsav was Aahan's territory and if I even dared to run up against him here, I would be against them all ― nobody hated him here. He was like a star.
It was only now that I noticed how the girls looked at him. As he guided me across the dance floor, rounding up the masses of dancing people– I could see the way girls would turn around to look at him.
He was tall. Towering over most people, he stood out.
Dark. His skin was so smooth, I could tell with the way the light shined across his tanned skin, it would be soft and smooth...
His eyes were so brown. Most of us had brown eyes in India. No, shocker there. But then there were people like Aahan that differentiate brown into shades, for his eyes as I recalled from our very first meeting, were breathtaking. Literally. Brown like coffee roasted beans it was enrapturing. Intense and unknown of its depth.
His jaw was strong. He had just one tiny dimple. And his hair was a curly mess. A very dark raven black curly mess. It felt as if, it was a shade of night which was layered in different swirling patterns over his head. And it suited him.
His eyebrows were thick. His ears were huge. His lips were thin, but his smile was wide. Handsome.
I had never been in the presence of such a human being. He was extraordinary. Even his flaws made him seem more perfect.
The little dark spots left behind from what I'm guessing is an ache of his teen years were sprayed across his cheeks. Yet they added volume to his skin layers. His nose was a tiny bit crooked just below the bridge of it, which could have been a cause of a fistfight.
I hadn't realised how much I had been staring at him ― observing him if you will. I had observed him as I walked behind him. I had observed him from the side as I stood beside him patiently every time someone stopped by to chat with him or for the good old handshake or hug. And I had observed him from the front as I sat across him on a cushioned seat above the dancing floor which was the VIP lounging area of Utsav.
"Didn't your parents teach you it's rude to stare at people?" He smirked, which was barely a smirk as his thin lips barely could lift. I amused myself at his feature for a while longer, only raising my eyebrows at him. "Seriously if you're that addicted to this face, take a picture."
"Does it make you uncomfortable that I am staring?" I couldn't help but pull a smirk of my own, lifting an edge of my lips.
"Honestly, couldn't be more creeped out. It is like a demon is staring at an innocent human." He nodded, whilst he put a hand up and across his face to add to his dramatics. I chuckled, unable to contain it and grinned widely then.
"I was just checking to see what every girl was staring at," I admitted.
"And were you amazed by the art before you?"
"I'm sorry the crooked nose and big monkey ears take up all my attention." I stuck my tongue out at him, determined to not admit how much I found him handsome even in his simplest attire.
"You had pointed out my flaws."
"It's what distinguish you from perfection."
"Rude."
"Yeah well, the truth hurts." I shot back. He did call my hair a bird's nest. So, Ha!
"What would you like to eat? With the drinks I mean." He asked, picking up the menu card listed with food items. I shrugged, agreeing to go with whatever he would get as long as it went along with my vodka and cranberry drink. And so he sat across me having a gin and tonic shots with some pizza. And I had two glasses of vodka mixed with sweet cranberry juice and a plate of nachos with mustard sauce.
So far I had learned a lot. Aahan worked in a magazine company as a print journalist and that he came up with ideas for publication. He described himself as an idea machine. He hoped to be a writer someday.
"But I never sit down and write. That's the thing." He whined, taking the last bite of his pizza.
He was the only child of his mother and late father. He lived alone in Bandra, one of the most expensive suburban place to live in Mumbai. Which thus, made him brag of how much he earned and how successful he had been the last five years.
He was twenty-eight years old.
Once I was drunk enough, I told him how much he made jealous the past fifteen minutes. I spilt my guts about various stuff. Stuff I didn't usually tell others at all.
I opened up about how I had an older sister and how I was often compared to her success. And I couldn't understand what made me talk at that moment. The alcohol? the envy? Or simply him? But I did.
"She's pretty, you know. And, like...I don't get it. They say I'm her Xerox copy, but she's the pretty one. She's a model, I mean. You can guess, the rest right?" I whined, lifting the empty glass of my drink, narrowing my eyes at the fuzzy reflection of my face in it.
It was a barely a reflection but I sighed into it. "And I'm this. A twenty-two-year-old just finished graduating university and done nothing. Not pretty and not successful. Nothing. I don't even have a social life. Not a single lover! Damn, fuck it all."
I was on my third drink now and I was half drunk, which was very much possible given my low tolerance for alcohol. Any more than I had already had, would have to lead me to open up completely to the handsome brown-eyed boy in front of me. And so, I actually did after I finished my third drink.
"You know, what sucks?"
"What?"
"I don't stay here." I spread my arms, to play emphasis on my word. "I don't live in the city. I live up north, quite far away. I cannot go home unless I use the local train. I cannot just hail a taxi and go home. No, can't do that. There are no clubs at my place. There's like.... nothing! I just wanna experience life, as you all do. Just for one day." And then my arms dropped, aching from being held up so. "A wild city adventure, you can say."
"I see..." Aahan went silent. He had no more than his shots and looked quite sober compared to me.
"Tell me, what happened that day." I urged him, slurring at the end of my words now.
"If I had to be blunt about that day," Aahan sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Something told me it was not a found memory recollecting of what happened that day. "I was getting dumped."
Oh.
"So you have a girlfriend?" I raised my eyebrows at him. I was definitely shocked. But deep down my stomach twisted in a knot. "Or had?"
"It's complicated," He shrugged.
An air silence fell upon our table. I didn't look at him for a long time. It felt like my eyes could travel anywhere but in his direction. I could examine the dark red and black walls of the club. The fall ceiling lights in the room, Showering upon us like tiny spotlights. The white wooden tables and the cushioned red chairs around them, on which I was sitting. I could notice the wall paintings to the couples and friends sitting in the room. Anything, but to look at him.
As if sensing my shock, he said: "I'm sorry, this was a total buzzkill for our rekindling frenemies party, right?"
"Frenemy?" I smiled, fidgeting with my empty glass, "Who allowed you, to decide that?"
"Fate." He said, in a matter of fact way. "If we're bound to keep bumping into each other, I rather make it common in my head."
"Why use the term, frenemy?" I bit onto my lips lightly, suddenly nervous about what he would say. I don't know what I expected of him. What exactly were the words I wished for him to say at this moment? But a part of me was hoping.
Crazy.
"Frenemy because I still consider you as a huge enemy of mine." Though his tone was so serious, I couldn't help but shake my head and smile. Finally, turning to look at him, I encouraged him to further explain what he meant.
"Whenever we have met, you've been stealing all my good luck and then you fight with me." He shrugged, grinning widely at me.
"But, you said frenemy." I emphasized on the syllabus 'fr' of the word. A massive achievement to pull off in my drunk phase. He nodded, leaning closer to me over the table, "I think you're nice enough to deserve the 'fr' syllabus of the word friend but not the whole word. The word enemy? You deserve the whole of that."
And there, there was that cute dimple of his on his cheek. I couldn't help but laugh at his explanation.
"Oh god, I think you're right!" I laughed, tearing up at the thought of it. "You're such a tease though!"
"I do have some amazing qualities, don't I?"
"Narcissistic!" He only smirked at that. The tiny smile which he thought was a smirk but to me, it was beginning to look like a knowing smile.
"I guess then I do owe you an apology. Your urgency is understandable of that day. But in my defence! If you took just a minute to say you had to rush to your..." I paused, letting my laughter settle down. "...girlfriend I would have been very understanding. You caused me to get hurt that day mister, gave me an attitude of how I should take help and how you didn't want to pay because your life was so urgent. It would have taken just a moment to make me understand why you couldn't be responsible for your actions that day."
"That didn't sound like an apology, Missy."
"I'm getting there! Shhhh" I placed a finger to my lip to silence him and he held his hands up in surrender. "As I was saying..." Slur. Slurring words escaping my lips. "I'm sorry, you had to deal with heartbreak that day. I'm sorry for giving you an attitude too; for throwing a fit. I do stuff when I'm mad or someone gets on my bad side. I should have been more mature. I'm really sorry."
"I'm sorry, too. I know, I was the one that caused the accident. In a haste to meet my girlfriend, I slipped and fell on you. In trying to beat time, I ended up hurting a person. I should have been more responsible."
"And?" I stared into his eyes, pulling my phone out of my jeans pocket, placing it on the table. He smiled sheepishly and continued "Also, sorry about the fact that I was responsible for breaking your phone and when the opportunity came to pay for it, I took the chance of when you were diverted, choosing to run away."
"Good." I nodded. "Apology accepted."
"Likewise, Saloni."
I felt like someone punched the oxygen out of my lungs. As if that was even possible! And yet, that was the best way to describe how I felt that exact moment when he said my name. It sounded so different when he said it. Yet, it was the very same name people have called me with. In classrooms, in parties, at home, at the streets. Then why does it feel so different?
weird.
For the rest of the night, we exchanged our apologies and talked about the people around us. We made up stories about the people in our line of vision and then laughed at our theories of it.
And soon we were done drinking and it had gotten late. It was time to go home, so we made a move. Aahan had paid for the food and drinks, a treat to make up for his previous damage. Which is the only reason why I let him pay, for I always otherwise liked my bill split?
Soon I was seated in his car, with a bottle of water in my hand, trying to sober up.
I had completely ignored my phone tonight. In fact, I had ignored everything else, except the boy in front of me and the time I was spending with him.
"You didn't tell me," Aahan said, from the driver's seat as he pulled the car out of the parking place. "What were your plans that day."
"To eat mud-cakes," I admitted and he laughed wholeheartedly. It took him quite a few minutes to compose himself. He couldn't get over the fact that my plan for that day was only planned to eat mud-cakes with friends. And I only shrugged, too drunk to say anything else.
He smiled, driving smoothly across uneven streets. And I relaxed back into the car seat, looking at him and how he shook his head every time he looked at me.
Just to laugh all over again.
The night was coming to an end.
A/N: my story was recently critiqued by a fellow wattpadian. If you're looking for honest critiques on your story to help yourself to write better, head over to account & check out the critique shop!
Update: 600 READS. OMG, THANKS!!
until next time doughnuts <3
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