Chapter 12
A lie is a lie
ADITYA
“I am not doing this. Faking stuff for any damn author.”
Jimmy sits cross-armed, jaw clenched. “Even if you ask me after a hundred push-ups.”
“Or we get you drunk,” Kiron sniggers. “Remember the time Jimmy took off his clothes on a freezing December night, ready to jump into Naini Lake?” They turn to Sudhanshu, who is busy studying the contract.
Jimmy rolls his eyes and huffs out his frustration.
“Calm down. Don’t get your jockstraps twisted, gym boy.” Kiron squeezes Jimmy’s tight shoulders.
This is worse than I thought. Jimmy is dead set against the whole fake-author concept.
Sahil met him at Kathgodam railway station and drove to my house.
The boys had ganged up on me, demanding a ‘housewarming’ party and calling me out for not inviting them when I moved in.
All my protests and reasoning were drowned out in a unified chorus.
I agreed, having no reason to complain when they were bringing the food.
Besides, the gathering served as an excellent excuse to avoid meeting Jimmy alone after he arrived from Delhi. Safety in a crowd.
“Jimmy, this is a decent contract. I don't see any legal issues. The lawyer we work with can review it and let us know if we need any changes.” Sudhanshu hands the papers to Brian.
“Plus, the money. Wow.” Kenny whistles. “Jimmy, how can you refuse this amount? They are ready to pay you one lakh rupees upfront, another five per cent from the book sales, and double your day's earnings at the gym for every appearance.”
“You get a free model portfolio and all expenses paid trips to book events in different cities. Isn't this what you always wanted?” Sahil adds his two bits.
Double thanks are due to Priya for sweetening the deal. I keep myself busy heating the food, too afraid to interfere, hoping to salvage some positive karma points. Sir Wilfred’s face pops up in my eyes. I give the curry another vigorous stir to shake the British colonel away.
The open kitchen gives me a balcony seat to the unfolding drama.
The excitement in the group is bubbling since Jimmy showed them the contract.
I haven't gone near Jimmy out of fear. He is bound to ask my opinion.
I don't know what I will say if he puts the decision in my hands.
Staying aloof also lets me see what others think of my crazy plan.
“Guys, calm down. The money and terms are great, but this fake identity does not sit right with me. Why does this author not want to be the face of his own book?” Brian places the folders on the table and picks up his drink.
“Read between the lines, dear. My guess. The author is still in the closet. He does not want to come out for some reason. And we have all been through this phase.” Kiron swats Brian's arm.
“Where is your empathy? Is walking outside in India as our true selves easy for queer people, even if they have white skin?” Kiron throws a challenge at Brian, both with their words and eyes.
“Kiron is right. The author may not be ready to reveal his sexuality. Or what if he is not in a safe space?” Kenny supports Kiron's contention.
“What do you think, Aditya? You haven't spoken a word.”
The rice plate slips, clattering on the black granite of the kitchen counter, adding Hindi TV-serial style melodramatic effects after Jimmy's words. My moment of reckoning is here.
“Would you agree to this arrangement if you were in my place? “Jimmy tightens the screws. Ah, way to increase the pressure. I curse Sir Wilfred again. He should have stopped me from blurting things to Priya.
The entire groups focus is on me. I use the time to collect and throw the spilt rice to dwell on my version of Yudhishthira’s Ashwatthama problem.
Is withholding complete information a lie? Are my actions adharma if I do them to support an honest, nice guy in his life? You kept one secret from Shalini, and look where you landed. The relationship with Jimmy is a tender sapling. Won't another secret trample what is building with him?
“I understand the whole fake author concept is bizarre, but if the contract protects you from any liability, the money would be of great help. And they are offering to help you in your modelling aspirations.” I keep myself planted in the kitchen, afraid to reveal my wobbling knees.
“But this is unethical. How do you expect me to lie to myself and the public? I will not build my career on a falsehood.”
“Consider this as an acting assignment.” I bite my lower lip.
“Except, you are using your skills in the real world, not on a stage or in front of a camera.” The twitch in my right eye is a giveaway.
Jatin would pick up my anxiety in a second.
But this motley gang would be blind to the 'Liar- Liar' billboard flashing above my head.
“Aditya is correct. Consider this project as acting in real life.” Kenny supports me.
“Why don't you people understand? Deceiving people is not acting. Such people are called con artists. If you ask a lawyer, I am sure they will point you to some section of the Indian Penal Code. What will happen when things go wrong? The author and the agency live behind their high walls, safe in their riches. The hounds will come after me.” Jimmy gripes.
I will never let such a calamity fall on you, Jimmy. I promise you I will take all the blame. Of course, I can never say these words out loud, but I can help him decide. “Why don't we do a SWOT analysis?”
“A what analysis?” Sahil gives me a confused look.
“S.W.O.T. is a business term. The letters stand for strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats.” Except for Brian, the other guys are still unsure of Sudhanshu's explanation.
“In simple language, you list the benefits and the risks. Match them and decide. If the stakes are manageable. You go ahead.” I hope Jimmy agrees. This way, at least, my conscience will be clear. His friends can help him make an unbiased, fact-based decision.
Easier said than done. Jimmy agrees, but he is still unsure after one hour of brainstorming. His list of objections has become longer.
“Guys, trust me. I am excited about this career break; the money offered is enticing. But how will I manage all the nerd stuff? The agency wants me to meet people from high society. There will be interviews where people will ask about the book. How can I fake all of this? I am a small-town Jat boy; the truth will be out the moment I open my mouth. Who will believe I wrote an English novel?”
“Brian and I will coach you in English.” Kenny offers.
“I will train you on etiquette and dressing up,” Kiron adds their commitment to Jimmy's success.
“I will help and guide you with the book. Between me and the others, we can come up with a list of questions.”
Selfish much? Stop haunting me, Sir Wilfred.
This will help me control the conversation in public. I wipe the sweating palms off my trousers and stand. “So, we are all set once Sudhanshu gives us the go-ahead after speaking to the lawyer?”
God, please make this turn out well for Jimmy. I want to help him build his dreams. I extend my hand, palm facing up.
The others join, but Jimmy does not. Instead, he shakes his head. “We are still lying, and one day or the other, lies hurt people. This is doomed to burn someone.”
“What's the problem now? This is an opportunity to get out of your situation. Make your dreams come true. Secure your future. Or do you want to stay where you are and stagnate?” The moment the words leave my mouth, I realise the damage I have done.
Jimmy glares at me and stands up. “I never lie.”
I try to save the situation, “Jimmy, this is an opportunity. The author may be in trouble.”
“How do you know? Right intentions don't change the lie. In any colour, a lie is a lie. But I guess a man who faked his marriage for ten years would be hard-pressed to understand.” His nostrils flare, and his fiery eyes burn my soul.
The words shred my heart into pieces. “Get out.” I point Jimmy to the door.
“Jimmy, you must apologise. We should not hurt our people.” Kiron grabs his hand, but he pulls away.
I gulp down the entangled mess of pain and anguish. “Jimmy, please leave before we shred the threads tying us.”
He does not look back as he stomps off. Sahil and Kenny try to stop him, but he shoves them aside. The ground beneath my feet shakes, and I collapse on the nearest chair, unable to control the tears. Kiron presses a glass of water to my lips, forcing me to sip.
The cool liquid does nothing to parch the burn in my body. I turn to Sahil. “Go after him. Make sure he reaches home safe. He is not in the right frame of mind.”
After setting alight the first signs of life in my new world, neither am I.