Chapter 6 | Her
The club was a twenty-minute drive plus the forty minutes of traffic time. And the fact that Aniket is an excellent driver worked to our advantage and we slithered through the traffic in no time.
But the thought of being in the kind of social setting that I’d otherwise avoid is getting in my head. I’m basically praying for the entire ordeal to be over as early as possible. But what can be early when it’s already ten.
“You need to calm down. Nobody’s going to know if you stick to the plan.” Jess eyes narrow before pulling in another puff.
“Stick to the plan? They’re going to know if I don’t sip on it. Can’t you just let me leave early?” I retort.
She shrugs before blowing a gust of smoke again, “If you insist...I mean I’m not stopping you. But it wouldn’t be wise to leave alone, especially looking like an appetizer.”
She’s right. I wouldn’t want to leave alone in this dress too.
“Disha, look you’re nervous because you’ve never tasted the intoxication. Once you do, there’ll be no going back.” Extending the cigarette to me, “Here, puff on... This will help you relax.”
Aniket’s grunts from the driver’s seat suddenly drags our attention, “Can you girls do that later? Or you want to walk out of the parking lot dressed like that.”
We get off the car when he pulls it into the valet. My instincts are on alert... and I don’t even know why?
The night air is cool and a light breeze blows the free locks out of my face. That’s when I realize, I’m not dressed enough to keep my body warm. A shiver runs down the entirety of my body as soon as the temperature drops when we step inside the club.
The smell of smoke of all kinds, along with those of colognes and perfumes floats in the air of the dimly lit facility.
Waiters, mostly women carrying trays loaded with all different types of glasses filled with colorful liquids, wearing skirts so short I wonder how they bend to pick stuff up. The walls and corners are covered in patterns made out of led strips, glowing the dullest shades of neon and blue.
The light is low enough to only see as much as is necessary. No-clarity lighting. That’s my name for it.
In a matter of seconds, my eyes adjust to the dimly lit atmosphere and I’m drinking in the details once again.
One corner is an elevated platform large enough to fit a mixer-controller-turntable with two DJs shaking a leg with their headphones on. The loudspeakers are hidden from sight but are freakishly loud enough. The whole place is buzzing with a loud remixed pop number.
On the other end are private tables meant for partying, one of which have been booked by my friends.
People are covered in all kinds of clothing. Expensive jackets to trashy shimmer tanks. Hot women dressed in the shortest clubwear they could find. Piercings are a normal sight here, be it lips, eyebrows, or navels. Tattooed hands sway left and right in the air on the dancefloor and I’m shocked to see most of those hands have rings on it. Can’t judge other people’s buzz.
I stop staring at them as soon as I hear a familiar voice calling my name.
“Disha, come on over here girl.” One of my colleagues calls out for me from the private table where seven of them including our team lead are seated. The tension in my shoulders ease a bit as I approach them.
Do you feel less awkward? Yes, because the others are wearing even skimpier clothes. These people must really be into clubbing a lot.
I approach the table with Jess by my side but something makes me nervous all of a sudden making the hair behind my neck rise. I look all around me but find nothing out of the ordinary. You’ll never be able to socialize if you keep looking over your shoulder all the damn time.
“Make room for us, folks.” Jess hurries inside; we get seated in the huge semi-circle of the plush sofa of a private table. She sits on one of my sides, with Veer on the other.
A huge double decker cake is presented to us, and all eyes and chatter ceases to ready for the cake cutting. Right then I feel a hand brush up my thigh from under the table and freeze almost instantly. When I try to look, the touch withdraws itself as unexpectedly as it appeared.
I hope it’s not what I’m thinking.
AFTER THE CELEbrATION, my colleagues head to the dance floor. Jess tugs on my hand, “Let’s go, shake a leg...” winking at me, “And maybe, booze a little. What do you say?”
Just as I’m about to answer, a hand wraps around my wrist. And when I turn back, I’m met with a drunk Veer’s smirk; his eyes drifting from me to Jess and back. “The booze is on me tonight, darling. And you can leave Disha behind, we’ll join you guys in a bit.”
The malice dripping in his words are so noticeable, even a blind man could see through it. My palms get cold once again as the realization crawls up my mind. So, I was right... it was his hand before.
His intent eyes shamelessly grope every curve on my body the moment Jessica leaves us alone in the recess of the private table. He directs me back inside and beside him, and only God knows how bad I want to leave.
He remains silent all the while gulping down on his beer, eyeing me the way I never would have imagined he could. And it takes every muscle in my body to stop the sobs from escaping my heavy throat at the thought of how I almost thought he was one of the best people I had ever met.
I make the move to break the silence, “I think I should leave...”
“Relax, sweetheart. I only wanted to talk...” His fingers once again brush my arm, “I wanted to tell you that this is probably the best birthday I could have ever had. I mean everything’s like a dream – the party... this club... your dress...” His eyes drifting to places that they’re not supposed to. “You look – you look stunning.” He means your chest looks stunning.
“Veer please, I don’t think we should talk about anything right now. We’ll talk when you’re sober.” I get up to leave, but he pulls me back so hard, I almost crash land onto his lap.
Instantly, I push myself away from him, but he has his eyes fixated on the exposed part of my shoulder.
I wish at this moment he was not my boss because I’d definitely slap him as hard as I could to release some of the tension in my muscles. But then he does something unbelievable. I sit back in utter shock as he puts a dollop of cream icing from the cake onto the exposed part of my shoulder and licks it off before my brain could even comprehend whatever was going on.
“You’re not going anywhere. I told you I was having a good night. Now, it’s time to make it a great one.”
I withdraw jerking him away from me; but he is too strong to let go off of my hand. Where the hell are my colleagues?
My eyes frantically scan my surroundings searching for known faces...anybody at all. Nobody! Where did they vanish?
For a second, I feel eyes in our direction, although I still cannot make out who they are from this distance. Somebody’s alive in this dead drunk crowd of people.
But then they disappear as soon as they appeared, and I’m left with a feeling that it was indeed the anxiety that made me imagine that I was going to be saved from this.
Veer laughs softly at my desperation to get his hands off me. “I’m not going to force you sweetie; you like me and I like you. We can do it the happy way.” His laughter seems like the definition of disgusting, “You let me do it the happy way and I promise there won’t be consequences. Perhaps, I could arrange some happy coincidences too?”
“You’re disgusting. Let go off of me.” I bark back, fighting the urge to spit on his ugly face.
He snaps and his jaws clench, “There’s no going back from this, you know right?” His nostrils flare as his hold on my hand loosens for mere microseconds.
My wrist slips free from his bruising hold, as I jerk behind escaping when he pounces back. “I know there’s no going back. And honestly, I wouldn’t want to go back either. Asshole!” The curse was meant to be under the breath, but good thing it was loud enough for the jackass to acknowledge for himself.
His eyes narrow at me before shooting one final nasty grin at me, “Poor decision-making sweetheart. But I promise... I’ll make you beg for it.”
He storms away, while I fall back into the sofa once again. Tears pool up behind my lids and the sob finally makes its way out.
All the years of hard work...everything gone into waste. All because I did not want to suck on my boss’s dick. How is that even justified?
That asshole must have been dreaming about it for God alone knows how long. All the times that I mistakenly believed as innocent encounters; he could have been planning this for long.
Every time when he helped me with work, and our hands brushed. That one time I collided with him in the corridor. And when only a few of us stayed after office hours, to plan the monthly target for our team. And when he called me to come early to work on something but I couldn’t manage. God alone knows how many of those times he might have planned horrible things for me. And I misunderstood every one of those as harmless coincidences.
Helplessness is the only thing I can feel right now and it’s stuck in my throat, and I need to wash it off.
I head towards the bar area, with a fake smile on my face while scrolling down the menu. Because I don’t know shit about booze.
“One straight up margarita please...” I request the bartender, flashing my party card. I’m going to make sure that bastard goes bankrupt after I finish drinking tonight as the bartender hands me a first.
Looking at the coupette, I speak inside my head... There goes nothing.
Gulping down the strong citrusy liquid, I look back up with a sour face to order another one, before gulping that down too.
Then another one. Then a fourth one. I have no clue how many I’ll be able to handle or how many it will take to subtract a substantial chunk from his credit card.
And I am too drunk to google it up.
So, I order another one.
“Is it your first-time ma’am? I think you should just head home.” The bartender seems the most reasonable one in this place.
“Last one. I promise!” Muffling a chuckle.
After the fifth, I feel warm enough to stop thinking about any shitheads tonight. Guess, that’s enough! But I still need to find Jess, to head home.
I head towards the dance floor with unsteady steps looking for Jessica, when I thinly escape a fall. I turn to thank the stranger who held me back, but he’s gone like he never existed. Never mind, now where was I?
I guess, I need that joint to think straight.So, I pull one from someone’s lips, I don’t remember who, but they seem pleased enough to let me take it.
I draw in the smoke. One puff, two, three puffs... So relaxing!
Jess was right. Chilled out, yes, I feel chilled out.
At this point, I don’t know what direction I’m heading but it’s probably somewhere on the dance floor. Because the people around here, all look absolutely doped, swaying their tattooed hands in the air. Jess must be somewhere here, looking at me with pride. I’m one of them now.
It’s lighter this way...The no rules way.
I think about it, and get along with the vibe that has slowly turned dark. Phonk remix going on full blow while an absolutely dazed audience grooves to the sick beats.
I pull my hair up before letting it fall loosely to the sides and start waving my hands in the air like everyone else shaking every muscle in my body into letting lose.
I have tied myself in enough chains all through the years.
Today, I’ll change it.
I’m going to be the girl the world needs.
No. I’ll be the girl that I need.
And then I’m swaying my body absolutely unrestrained.
There’s a man right behind me, and I accidently keep barging into him while dancing. When I collide this time, I turn back to see who the dude is.
My furrowed brows instantly ease at the sight before me.
He is a tall guy. Like really tall. And covered in tattoos all over his visible body. Also why are tattoos being such a thing nowadays? Everyone has them, but me. I’m not cool enough. My mind is a mess but I still remember Nakul’s stupid joke from the other day.
The guy turns to look at me, must be the scrutinizing gaze I was subjecting him to for the past minute. And that’s when I see his face.
What is he? Because that sure looks like a monster. Is it a mask? Am I hallucinating? It maybe the effect of the margarita or the marijuana? Or just the dim lighting on the dance floor? Or all of those? But it is nearly impossible to see his face behind the demon painted on it.
The next moment our eyes find each other’s, and I can’t help but notice the color of his irises. It’s a gray so light, like it’s abnormally unpigmented. The dark pupils like an opening into dark pits I have no intention of looking into. But he is looking directly into mine.
The contrast is making his eyes ominous enough to make me believe that I am indeed meeting with an entity from hell.
My heart is racing like it doesn’t want to look back and keep running away from this guy, yet I feel trapped. Trapped beneath his stare.
There’s something dark about him, enigmatic even. I must be crazy to like something like that... But the tension his mesmerizing stare is creating withing me, it’s like a highly intoxicating drug shot right into my veins.
I swallow the building anxiety, brushing it aside and whatever’s happening to my mind is out of my control. Every cell in my body is actively rejecting the dread, rejecting every logical reasoning ever, to start dancing with him almost immediately.
You can’t feel those things for a stranger.
It must be the booze. Or the joint.
I don’t know... but I think I really am going insane.
He’s pulling me close and I’m afraid I’ll lose everything tonight. Everything I kept caged for all these years. Every single butterfly I’ve kept locked inside my chest.
My sanity. My sanctity. Everything.