|the naive rebel|
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xxxvi- a | Is it even legal?
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word count- 2160

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INAAYAT
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The lightings are way too dim, fluttering, and cause a blatant headache and strain my eyes. Despite the air conditioner, I feel warm and caged. The lace top I am wearing helps me with the overly filled place.

The smell of alcohol and sweat taint the air, as it grows more and more cloudy, managing to suffocate me easily. The tension between us adds to the stifle.

We haven't spoken much since the last 'encounter' we had.

Ignored like the plague.

I had tossed and turned on Friday night, replaying the entire scene and how it did manage to evoke something fizzy, warm deep down in my heart. But, can't blame it on hormones. I did question myself that night, would I kiss someone else if they were with me in the very same situation.

And like the bucket of ice being splashed right on my face, I realised that the answer to the question was no. I wouldn't have. Which led me to think, and observe and try concluding the feelings I had started to feel.

I can't say they are prominent, but they do exist.

The blaring music pierces my ear as I follow his lead towards the nearest bar counter.

Why are people dancing on the floor? There's a stage-crafted for the same purpose.

The people off stage, in truth, are fondling, seducing, pressing, caressing each other behind the poor facade of dancing.

My headache returns shooting back when they switch the music to rock and with even louder volume.

Kill me.

I watch him walking confidently clearing the crowd thus helping me to follow him without any difficulty. His beard is back and I had hit my head hard on the window when I had entered his car. The entire past week (when we talked) I had continued pestering him to not shave because he looks like an actual bear.

With the mere response of sneering and shaking his head, he had shunned me down. And see, today most of these drunkard horny bastards would be thinking that there's a loose bear on run.

Before I can continue walking, a hand pulls me with force.

"I would rather focus on walking than judging someone's facial hair." He snickers and I look at him wide-eyed.

I contemplated my frame of mind. Am I more surprised that he figured out what I was thinking or should I be astonished realising that he spoke to me?

With the clink of the glasses and the college girls shrilling the word shots, I manage to sit comfortably on the high bar seats.

Ishaan is busy doing something on his phone when the music finally stops and the series of disagreements follow after.

But I pray to the lord.

The DJ announces about how the lights would be switched off for five minutes cause some snow white is going to be kissed to marriage.

The same college girls-who to me appear as the first-timers in a club with an actual ID, squeak giddily and gush over the oh-so-perfect man and the lucky bitch. Their words, not mine.

The taint of alcohol becomes even stronger, and with the air cooler this side I finally can breathe. The counter's less crowded and the majority of the occupants are busy dancing on the stage or snorkelling.

I get off the seat when I see a drunk man approaching. Who gladly takes the seat I left, stumbling and clumsily making his way.

As per our information, the drug gang's some members work here, which makes it easier to get through them to reach the leader.

Once we catch the leader, we can know if the students who ended their own lives were involved with drugs in any way possible. Or, if our luck favours the leader will himself be the murderer. And we'll be off the case soon.

In simpler ways, we have to catch the leader as soon as we can. This year no suicide has taken place which scares me, cause it means that maybe-which I hope not- but maybe the killer is currently planning the next victim. And never will I want anyone to lose their life when I am the one out here trying to protect them.

No more suicides.

I look at Ishaan who currently is missing, he should have at least informed me before going to search for any leads.

I move towards the sweaty messed upstage when a body pushes me and I wallow my way into another person hitting my face right on their back.

Okay, that's it. I am officially replacing my legs, they are up for sale, anybody interested?

"Oo- I am so so so-what the heck?" My sentence rephrases itself when I see the person I bumped into.

"Aayat?" Nikhil buzzed voice sounds like an ant's growl.

"Are you drunk?" I question despite seeing him in his inebriated sloppy self.

"Wooohoooo- Am I drunk or am I drunk or wait how do we say it...I AM DRUNK!" He shouts and I almost lose my hearing power.

"Aayat, is that you Aayu?" A feminine shrill scream reaches my ear, and my eardrum collapses.

"What are you doing here?" I question Mishti who dances freely to the tuneless music. She slops and bumps and stumbles and turns as she tries dancing.

"Join us, babe." Another voice and I am losing faith in my luck.

"We patying." Garima bawls, also misspelling the word partying.

They are completely wasted and

Rest in peace my ears.

I try understanding what I should say, exactly when finally a sober Sameer shows up and sheepishly smiles at me pointing at the wasted friends of mine.

"Why are you all here?" I ask him.

"Nikhil planned this event night before the college's event. We all were free and thus joined him. Which makes me think, why are you here, Angel?"

"Case," I reply suddenly remembering that even Ishaan is here, and he is unquestionably not dressed as Shaan.

Except for that bear beard.

"Wait that means-" I stop him mid-sentence nodding.

Before I can message Ishaan, Mishti pulls my phone and scrutinises the screen. Her lips are pouted and she blinks her eyes at a weirdly fast pace.

"Join us!" Nikhil hoots and continues jumping from one place to another.

"Is it even legal for you all to be here and drink?" They aren't even 21.

"Who cares." And I roll my eyes way too hard.

I try steadying Mishti who is now violently shaking and moving as the tune fastens. The fluttering yellow, red and blue LEDs which managed to illuminate the dark den suddenly flutters to silence, leaving all of us in the doomed darkness.

Amidst the hasty shoutings and the slurping humans, I have twirled around as my hands are secured at my back and I hit something hard.

A quick yelp leaves my mouth when I sense a body way too close. I trying jerking back when the hand pulls me back, a little harshly this time.

My breathing quickens because of both, the proximity and the closed room when something pricks my cheek and I know who it is.

"I saw them, and I know I can't be here. Even if they are drunk, they might remember a few traces and we can't risk them knowing about me or us. I'll wait outside in the car. Take a minute as soon as the lights are back, ask the tender wearing the red bandana-he is the one I saw in the secret room the last time we came here. Ask about drugs, but very casually. Do not panic, if something-anything goes wrong, shout and scream gain attention and quickly come out. If he tells you something valuable, bring these three drunkards out, we'll drop them to the hostel. But. Do not panic." He quickly instructs.

The warmth that had cocooned me so cosily leaves me, as coldness strikes back and it's awkward and messed up and I know, I am a goner.

Hell.

With a few seconds of me dreading, the lights are back on and my eyes take a full minute to adjust to the blazing brightness. I scan the strangulating and palpitating place when I spot the red bandana guy and I walk towards him.

Resting my elbow on the sticky counter, I sniff before ordering, "Anything strong." My voice is breathy and choked. I have no idea what I am going for but I think it worked seeing how the person gave me a sympathetic look.

"Bad breakup?" He enquires and I reply with a soft yes.

"It's tough. And, here you go." He says sliding a weirdly shaped glass filled with a clear liquid.

"Very. Painful, I don't even know how-" My voice croaks. I take a sip and close my eyes warning my brain to not spit it. It is awfully strong and tastes like relief spray.

"This isn't going to work. Too light. I need something stronger. Something that'll get through my brain and help me forget that bastard." I keep the drink on the counter but his gaze is quick to move, forcing me to take another sip.

"Stronger, eh?" He cross-questions.

"Way too stronger." I take one more sip.

"Have something in mind?" He smirks but I don't fail to notice the sudden change in his tone.

I bend a little so that only he can hear me. My head suddenly feels heavier and everything appears lighter.

"Something stronger than this." I raise my now half-empty glass.

"That's the strongest drink, I have ever made."

"Maybe..maybe I am not talking about a drink. You know somewhere I can hit a snort?" My eyes flutters and my voice is raspy. I am enjoying the pathetic music and want to twist and twirl and fall dancing on the colour emitting stage.

The man looks at me, inspecting my soul as a shameless giggle leaves my mouth.

"I know a man. But, you'll have to wait for a week and a half. Think you can stay without him and it?"

"I'll manage. Where can I find him?" I sound too eager but that's the drink talking.

"Here. He is going to come here for a deal, you can meet him and finalise your deal as well. The Saturday after the next weekend." He informs and I nod my head like a disciplined student.

I pass him a sultry smile as I make my way towards my drunk friends.

"My friends!" I shout as I make my way towards Mishti.

"Aayu!" She screeches back pulling me into a tight hug. We hug and jump like toddlers when I am pulled back.

"What?!"

"Why did you drink, Angel?"

"Shhhhhhh. It was case related." I shush him, muttering something about the case and the bartender and that weird glass. I am too dizzied to filter my words or to utter coherent words.

How do they even craft these glasses? One end long, another end short, tilted base, curved mouth. What?

"Those glasses are masterpieces." I clap my hands. They need to be praised.

"Ishaan is going to be really angry." He mutters disappointedly and I sneer. "Ishaan can go and shove-"

I am silenced as Garima attaches a rim to my lips. "No talking, only drinking." And I obey her order. Gulping a sweeter drink this time.

"I am screwed." That's the last thing I hear Sameer mutter before I throw myself on the stage. Swaying my hips and flipping my hair violently, I jump in my heels.

And I do not stumble.

Drunkard self is not clumsy.

Noted.

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Until next time,
keep dodging the bullets.

Love,
ऊ.