Chapter 12

2 years ago

varshaoforange

@varshaoforange

It was almost five in the evening and Aryan had texted Imlie over twenty minutes ago. Why can’t that jungli respond to a simple text? All he’d asked was how the interviews had went? However, Aryan had agonized over that simple for almost thirty minutes. He’d wondered whether she’d see it as being interfering, he’d prepared for the silly responses or jokes he’d get in return, he even wondered if a phone call would have been better than a text message. In the end, he’d chosen a simple, ‘Did the interviews go well?’, and she couldn’t even respond a simple yes or no to that. Over the past twenty minutes he’d checked his phone maybe thirty times. He was just about to give up and call her, or maybe the photographer or videographer who was on the team, but right then he heard the ping he’d needed to hear.

He checked the phone and saw Imlie’s reply: Sir, yes, sir. Two of the interviews went well, but Priya Agarwal, she wants to take all of us out to her favorite bar to finish the interview. She’s a little annoying, but sweet. Tell Kaki Maa that I’ll be back a little after seven, okay?

Aryan started panicking almost immediately. What the hell? What kind of idiot, who can’t even handle a single cocktail, agrees to go to a bar? He asked the question as if he didn’t already know the answer, Imlie. She did anything she thought would make someone else happy. In fact, she did almost everything in her life without thinking through the consequences.

He texted her back almost immediately: What’s the name of the bar, I’m coming there now.

Imlie responded: Kahe? Kya tumhare paas aur koee kaam nahin hai? (Why? Don’t you have any other work?)

Aryan rolled his eyes and got more frustrated by the second, he was this close to opening the app that tracked her phone’s location. He texted back: Right now I want to meet Priya Agarwal. Do you have a problem with that?

Aryan waited for the three dots to turn into an actual address. A few agonizing seconds later, Imlie responded with: Kaolin Sky Bar, in Vasant Kunj.

He grabbed his wallet and car keys and headed out of the office immediately. The drive to Vasant Kunj was almost a blur. He honked absentmindedly at the car in front of him, who had been sitting still for half a second since the light turned green. Aryan opened the window and shouted, “Kya tum andhe ho ya kya!?” (Are you blind or what?!) The driver in front of him opened his own window and put out his middle finger, and then moved forward.

This duffer seems to be going to the same place I am. Aryan realized as he followed the black BMW to the valet parking of the bar. Without a second glance at the valet worker, not realizing the worker was trying to help out the driver of the BMW, Aryan tossed his keys at him and at least twenty notes from his wallet. He headed into the bar, taking no notice of the driver or the valet worker shouting at him from behind.

He swung open the bar’s doors and met with a bouncer who was clearly checking IDs.

“ID card please, only those over eighteen can gain entry,” the beefy man said.

Aryan took out his ID and asked, “Did you see where Priya Agarwal sat with her group when she came in?”

The bouncer bristled, “We like to protect our customers’ privacy, if you’re here for an autograph, I suggest waiting outside one of her shoots instead, coming and finding her like this is—“

Aryan snatched his ID back and put up a hand, “I am not a fan, I am looking for someone she came with. A reporter. Also, I am Aryan Singh Rathore, I don’t like to wait for anything, I don’t like hearing the word no, and…” Aryan had spotted Imlie. Even in the dim lights of the bar he could see her smiling and nodding along with a few women and men, clearly not drinking the drink in her hand.

“And,” the bouncer asked?

“And, ye teesri baat udhaar nahi.” Aryan swept past him and headed straight to Imlie.

As he came less than ten feet from her, she still hadn’t noticed him, “Imlie!” He yelled. Even among all the voices in the bar, the loud music, his voice carried.

Imlie looked around and spotted him. Her face initially smiling at seeing him, and then that smile falling off her face when she recognized his anger.

She stood up to meet him, “Aryan sir, Aap sach mein yahaan aa gayein?” (You really came here?)

Aryan took no notice of the group at the table or the Bollywood superstar who was clearly ogling him and trying to get a word in.

“What kind of stupid question is that Imlie? I said I was coming, didn’t I? Why else would I get the address from you?” Aryan moved closer to her and added so no one else could hear, “Let’s leave, get your bag, and follow me.”

Imlie looked at him, confused, “Why? You said you wanted to meet Priya Ji? How can we leave before you meet her?”

Aryan was losing his patience, “What Priya? I never said I wanted to meet any Priya—“ His eyes fell on the actress who was standing just a little bit behind Imlie. She was smiling expectantly at him and then nudged Imlie mockingly, “Imlie, you didn’t tell me your boss was this handsome when you said he might want to meet me.” She walked past Imlie and put out her hand like one of those old-timey heiresses did in Hollywood movies, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Aryan Singh Rathore. Imlie says you’re a big fan of mine.” She smiled widely at this and giggled falsely into her hands. Aryan tried not to roll his eyes, clearly this woman thought she was an amazing flirt. He noticed Imlie smirking behind Priya, That jungli, she did this on purpose. She knew I didn’t actually want to meet some Bollywood actress but just was coming to get her. Hold on, why did I need to get Imlie? She has a phone, she has two legs and an arm, she could have hailed a cab. Aryan shook his head and jumped out of his thoughts, if he started asking why he kept doing illogical things where Imlie was concerned, he was afraid he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Listen, Ms. Agarwal, it’s great to meet you too, but see my reporter is only twenty years old—“

Imlie scowled, “Stop making me out to be old, I’m only nineteen and eight months.” She lifted her chin up in mock pride.

Aryan rolled his eyes, “whatever, this isn’t really where she or any journalist really, can conduct a fruitful interview. Why don’t I have Imlie or someone else from Bhaskar Times call you tomorrow to set up another date and time?” Aryan grabbed at Imlie’s wrist and squeezed, signaling to her that the time to joke around was over.

Imlie got the message and added, “Priya Didi, it was amazing to meet you, but yeh ABP sahi kahe raha hai. Bahut der ho chuki hai, aur mainne abhee tak khaayi bhee nahin hai. Hum ijaazat dehiye, hum pair mite hain.” (This ABP is right. It is very late, and I haven’t even eaten yet. I’ll take your leave, we’ll meet again.)

Priya Agarwal was excellent at throwing tantrums. In fact she thought that God had made her a movie star specifically because he knew that she’d grow up and be beautiful and talented, but she’d also never grow out of her childhood tantrum phase. “Imlie, I am the star here. Right, Mr. Rathore?”

Aryan shifted uncomfortably, he hated Bollywood actresses and actors, but sadly the entertainment section paid for most of Bhaskar Times’ expenses, so he needed them. “Ms. Agarwal—“ he started. But he was interrupted.

“Imlie, don’t worry, I’ll order dinner for you and your exceptionally rude boss, and you definitely can’t leave until you’ve met my younger brother. He’s just like you! He loves Bollywood too, of course unlike you or me he wasn’t blessed with amazing acting talent. He works as a lawyer though, you would love him. He attended the same college you do now.”

Imlie’s smile came back, “Really? I used to want to become a public officer or a lawyer, but I decided on journalism for well…reasons that don’t matter now. I would love to meet him!” Imlie released her wrist from Aryan’s grip and sat back down at the table. Aryan stood still, dumbstruck.

“Well, Mr. Rathore, aren’t you going to sit? I don’t think your employee is leaving with you?” Priya looked at him quizzically.

Aryan glared at her and then Imlie, it didn’t affect either of them in the least of course.

A couple minutes later Priya had begun ordering another round of drinks for the table and dinner, Imlie’s first drink lay untouched, but Priya was nice enough not to force her to finish it, nor did she order another alcoholic drink this time. “Imlie, would you like lemonade or just water?”

Imlie smiled, “Thank you for noticing Priya Didi that I don’t drink alcohol, I’ll have some water.”

Aryan interrupted Priya before she could order it from the waiter, “Waiter, I’d like two sealed bottles of water. I’m driving, and Imlie can’t handle even a drop of alcohol. Also please make sure to point out the dishes on the menu that aren’t vegetarian. Hum dono sirf shaakaahaaree khaana khaate hain.” (Both of us only eat vegetarian food.)

Priya rolled her eyes and whispered to Imlie, “It seems like your boss spends a lot of time taking care of you. Your’e very lucky.”

Imlie shifted in her seat and replied back, “It’s nothing like that, he’s the particular one, he just likes to make it seem like the nitpicky ones are his juniors. It’s all an act, Priya Didi.”

Priya nodded and smiled, but Imlie could sense she wasn’t convinced.

The waiter left to fill their order, and Imlie started talking amongst the group at the table again. Aryan didn’t care to join in, he just needed to get Imlie out of this bar in one piece. Let this idiot lawyer show up once and we can get out of here, he thought, looking at his watch and tapping his foot impatiently.

Service is always faster for famous people, and Priya Agarwal and her friends were clearly very well known not just for their work but in this bar as well. In the five minutes it took the server to come back with their food and drinks, at least thirty people had come up to the table to say hi to Priya and her friends. Aryan eagerly hoped each new arrival would be the stupid brother, but he was disappointed every time.

He watched Imlie out of the corner of his eye laugh at a joke from Priya, she was surreptitiously taking notes in her pad under the table, and grinned. And then he heard someone say, “Didi, how do you know the rudest driver in Delhi?”

Priya squealed with delight and stood up from the table. Aryan turned around to see her smothering a man who looked about twenty five or twenty six with a bear hug. “Shiv, you came. I thought you would choose yet another boring night home alone, but you came!” She squealed and jumped up and down again.

Then she turned around to face the table. “Guys, some of you already know him, but for those who don’t, Imlie and Aryan, meet my adorable and whip smart little brother, Shiva. He has an old fashioned name, I know, but blame my Daadi, we just call him Shiv at home. Shiva, this is the reason I called you out tonight, you just have to meet this adorable little journalist, she’s studying at the same college you went to! Also her name is so cute, it’s Imlie!”

Imlie looked at Shiv Agarwal and immediately could tell that this man was standing in a place he absolutely hated. She took note of his height, clearly over six feet, he was wearing a dark blue button down shirt, black slacks, and was carrying a black sports jacked in one arm.

Shiv looked at Imlie and smiled, “Pleasure to meet you Imlie. If my sister says I have to meet someone, then I listen to her. She knows very well I hate coming to places like this.” He held out his hand to shake hers.

Imlie smiled back and shook his hand, “Jai Sita Maiya Ki, and Priya Didi was dead set on me meeting you too. That’s why she managed to keep me and this silly ABP here until you came.”

Shiv finally looked at Aryan, his smile didn’t falter but his eyes did narrow. “ABP?” he asked.

Imlie laughed, “Oh that’s just my nickname for him, it means—“

Aryan stood up and straightened his jacket, “I’m Aryan Singh Rathore, it’s nice to meet you, but I think Imlie and I should be going now. Ms. Agarwal, I’ll definitely be in touch about setting another interview date—“

“Ek minute,” Imlie interrupted, “Shiv bhaiya, Were you calling ABP the ‘rudest driver in Delhi?’ Did he drive his car faster than the speed limit again? ABP, when are you going to learn to drive like a normal person, one day your Mrs. will break down in despair if you keep doing this.”

Shiv’s smile returned to his eyes, this girl was funny, he didn’t understand half of what she was saying, but if she was really being this silly with her boss and he wasn’t saying a word, she had some spunk. “Imlie, your Aryan really doesn’t believe in patience and calm when driving. In fact the poor valet driver—“

Aryan interrupted, “I don’t like to be kept waiting. If that’s a character flaw, fine. But I also don’t like people who aren’t focused on their task.” Aryan had no idea why he was being rude to this guy, he didn’t even know him, but he didn’t like how the man had already managed to become familiar with Imlie. Though, Aryan thought, Imlie was like that, she managed to become best friends with anyone she met, I mean she made such an impression on Priya that the woman won't let her leave.

Imlie dragged Aryan back into his chair by his arm and then gestured Shiv to sit, “Don’t worry Shiv Bhaiya, I’ll get ABP here to drive properly one of these days.”

Priya clapped her hands, “I love this! It hasn’t even been two minutes and it’s clear the two of you are going to be great friends. See Imlie, Shiv’s been out of the country for a few years, he finished college like you, but then this duffer decided to leave me and our parents to finish his law degree in the states.” Priya smacked the back of her brother’s head, “So now he’s back and he still hasn’t made any friends, nor did this dummy make any friends in college. I honestly worry about him.”

Shiv rubbed the back of his head in mock pain, “Didi, I am twenty-five, I’m perfectly capable of making friends on my own. Also stop acting like you’re my mother, you’re only a year older. I’m gonna order a whiskey, does anyone else need anything?” Shiv looked around the table and one of the men (who was Priya’s co-star on her most recent movie) replied, “Shiv, get me a whiskey too, will you?”

Shiv stood up and nodded, “Sure thing Pranav, be right back guys. And Imlie, I definitely want to hear more about how you’re managing journalism and college at the same time when I come back.”

Aryan glared at Shiv as he walked towards the main bar.

Priya sat down next to Imlie and started pulling plates of food close to her, “Imlie, you better finish all of this, I’m on a diet, and if there’s even a crumb left I’ll blame you.” Imlie smiled and started eating, patiently and keenly listening to the table as they resumed conversation about the recent movies and plays in which they had roles. She had her pad open again, and in between bites she kept taking notes.

Aryan leaned over to her, not touching his water, or any of the food, “I think you have enough for a report, and you’ve definitely eaten enough for three people, let’s go.”

Imlie looked at him, annoyed but then amused. She could tell, just like Shiv, Aryan was not a bar kind of guy. Bechara, she thought, he's been tortured enough, I guess. Kaki Maa and Arpita Didi must be waiting for them at home anyway. “Fine, your wish is my command, Mr. ABP.” She laughed and turned to Priya. “Priya Didi, it really is very late now, and I’ve eaten so much, I’ll call you tomorrow for a second interview, okay?”

Priya pouted, but she could tell from the glare she was getting from Aryan that she wouldn’t be able to throw a tantrum to get Imlie to stay longer, “Fine, I hate it, but fine. One second, give me your phone, I’m putting in my number and Shiv’s okay. He didn’t get to talk to you, and he really really does need a friend. Do me a favor and be his friend, okay Imlie?”

Imlie smiled, “You really are the sweetest big sister I’ve met. Besides my Arpita Didi of course.” She hugged Priya and stood up, “And since you asked so sweetly, I will definitely teach your little brother the ways of living life to the fullest with the best friends, I never say no to making new friends.” Priya laughed, a genuine laugh, in her nearly nine years of acting, she had never met a journalist who was as sincere as this girl, she was honestly a breath of fresh air.

Aryan held out his hand to shake Priya’s, “It was a pleasure, Ms. Agarwal.”

Priya looked hesitantly at the hand, she had initially been taken by this man’s looks, but now, she found him tedious, “You too, Mr. Rathore. Do try to cheer up in the future. It’s good for people to know you can smile.”

Aryan didn’t smile. He turned on his heel, and Imlie gave one last apologetic look to the table and followed him outside.

As the two of them waited for the valet, Imlie asked, “ABP, do you think all Bollywood actresses and actors are as lonely as Priya Didi? I mean today I talked to two other actresses on the list you gave me, as well as all of Priya Didi’s friends, and all of them clearly love their work, but their success has brought them such loneliness. I wonder if all successful people are lonely?”

Aryan looked at her, “Why are you asking me? Also how do you know they were all lonely?”

Imlie sighed, “I’m asking because that’s what friends do, they make conversation about their lives. Also I know because I saw it in their eyes. I see it in yours too, sometimes. Which I don’t understand, you have Arpita Didi and Kaki Maa, you should know you’re not alone.”

Aryan felt a twinge in his chest, So, I’m that obvious, Aryan thought. “And you? I shouldn’t be lonely because I have you, right?” He’d asked it as casually as he could at the moment, not looking at her and focusing on opening the driver’s side door to his car.

Aryan saw Imlie’s smile out of the corner of his eye. She responded cheerily, “Of course. Arre, kya isaka matalab yah hai ki ab tum mujhe apana dost maanate ho?” (Does this mean you consider me a friend now?)

Aryan didn’t answer, but Imlie definitely noticed the corner of his mouth twitch.

As he drove the both of them back to Rathore mansion, Imlie looked at her phone. She’d received two messages.

"Aditya Sir: Kya hum tumse kal baat kar sakata hoon? Main tumhara jyaada samay nahin loonga. Please."

And from an unknown number, she saw this message.

"Hi Imlie, It was great meeting you tonight. I know we’re in different industries, but as an alumnus, I should help out students from my alma mater. If you ever need anything, let me know! - Shiv. (Also my sister insists I ask if you would like to have lunch or chai some time. Don’t worry, I’m not that desperate for friends that I’ll beg you to say yes.)"

The first message had angered her, and then made her feel weak, as if her legs were too heavy for her to move ever again. But the second, it made her smile.