Overrated (Part 3)

 Hangovers were vicious.

The splitting headache, the desert-like dry throat, the way-too bright and loud surroundings.

Vicious indeed.

I had no idea about what time of the day it was. Just a vague recollection that it was supposed to be the weekend. Thank goodness for that!

I laid still with closed eyes, wherever I was lying, for some more time after sleep left me. I needed to get a hold on myself before I decided it was a good enough idea to open my eyes.

All the while, I tried to recall the reason behind my bitchy hangover. Of course, it was alcohol. However, usually I didn’t drink so much that I would end up with a hangover as bad as this one here, hanging over my head, body and mind and casting its shadows on my memory. So yes, it was unusual.

The first thing I could successfully recall was my chance encounter with Naira. That bit of recollection led to a rather vague memory of her dragging me inside a club. That was followed by a whirlwind of memories of us downing shots after shots without a care in the world, jumping to the loud music inside the club, followed by drinking some more and then jumping some more too. The other people around us, the ones Naira had introduced to me, were just blurs.

Unable to remember much beyond the drinking and jumping, I decided that I could just laze around a bit more and  I rolled around on the bed, eyes still closed.

Even so, I kept feeling as if I was missing something. A nagging feeling in the back of my mind.

Was there anything I had to get done this weekend? Or was there something I had to do this morning? Did I have to do something last night? Not able to remember anything, I concluded that I should probably ask Hardik about it. That thought reminded me of his date the previous night and made me wonder how it had proceeded.

I frowned then. I could not recall meeting Hardik after his date. Didn’t he come back home? Maybe he came home after I-

Hold on! When did I get home? More importantly, how did I get home? Did someone help me?

I tried once again to focus and remember that particular piece of memory but came up blank.

Panic rushed through my body all of a sudden and I sat up on the bed causing the room to spin for a few seconds and an involuntary groan made its way past my lips.

Though I opened my mouth to curse at myself for drinking too much, no sound left my throat. Instead, my mouth hung open, my eyes wide, taking in the room I was in.

It was… for lack of a better word, a simple room. Not plain as mine, considering mine was rented and we weren’t allowed to do much to the walls and all.

No. This room was simple and cozy. Warm and homely.

With beige walls and light brown curtains that covered 2 sets of huge windows on adjacent walls, the room definitely looked warm and cozy. The closet as well as the frame of the full-length mirror which stood against the wall next to the closet, matched the curtains in their colour. Light brown.

The wall against which the bed was placed had a huge white dreamcatcher, with white feathers hanging off of the brownish ring.

Next to the foot of the bed was a door, most likely leading out of the room.

The bedsheet and covers were all white as well. The room was otherwise bare.

I didn’t get any indication of whose room it could be. But I was sure of one thing.

It was neither my room, nor Hardik’s. 

Leaving the bed felt like a huge task. But it had to be done, even if only for the sake of knowing whose place this was.

Making my way out of the room, I immediately noticed a L-shaped grey sofa with a number of white, pale blue and dark blue coloured cushions placed on it haphazardly. In front of it, on a white and dark blue rug was placed a rectangular glass-top coffee table.

The wall facing the sofa was painted white and had a television and a grey-coloured chest of 3 drawers installed on the wall right below the television. 

Beside the sofa, light grey full-length thick curtains fluttered while partially covering a set of floor to ceiling sliding glass doors. Beyond the doors was a small balcony littered with a number of pots housing various plants. Inside the room, beside the sofa, stood another white pot housing a bunch of lucky bamboos which had grown quite big. Truth be told, I had never seen those things get this big. It reminded me of my early teens when my mother had tried to keep almost 3-4 sets of those bamboos alive. All in vain.

The wall behind the sofa was painted pale blue, complimenting the cushions and the rug. Or maybe, it was the other way around. Five black-and-white photographs with broad white borders and black frames were hung on the wall.

One of the photographs was of raindrops falling on an already wet road. Another was of the city from a very high vantage point. Another was of a single white flower against a dark background. Yet another was a low-angle shot of tall trees in a forest with only a small glimpse of the sky allowed by the branches and leaves. Another was of a cloudy sky with rays of sunlight peeking from beyond the clouds and spreading downwards.

So lost I was in the mesmerising photographs, that I did not feel the presence of another. 

“Oh hey!” The voice made me jump, with my heart beating 100 times a minute while I risked getting a whiplash with how fast I whipped my head around to face the direction from where the familiar voice came.

The smile that greeted me reminded me of how the same face had smiled at me the previous evening and called me… cute? Did that really happen? Or was it the hangover playing with my mind?

“You look cute when you are confused too, Ishaan.” Naira smiled and walked towards me.

“What are you doing here?” I had blurted out, even before I could think clearly.

The statement made her pause for a moment. After what seemed to be a very long time, she blinked. Then blinked once again, before finally parting her lips.

“Do you remember anything from last night, Ishaan? Or should we go to a doctor?” 

“N-no, I, uh…” I trailed off. My eyes drifted towards the sofa.

The sofa seemed to trigger another memory. “You brought me to your place last night.” I muttered. In reply, Naira just hummed.

Quite unexpectedly, a thought jumped up in my mind. “Where did you sleep?” There was only one bed in the room. Did she sleep on the sofa?

Before I could ponder on that, her words made me choke on air. “In my bed, of course.”

“Wh-what? You could have just left me on the sofa!” I was hyperventilating. And hoping that I didn’t do anything inappropriate!

She raised one of her eyebrows, then bent down to place a mug she had in her hand and walked towards me. Taking a hold of my shoulders with both her hands, she turned me around to face the direction from which I had entered the living room. A slight smile playing on her lips the entire time.

“That is my bedroom, Ishaan.” She said, a smile evident in her voice.

Right across the hall, from the door I had exited, was another door. And another one, further down the hall. She was pointing at the third door.

“Oh.” Was all I could mutter.

Letting go of my shoulder, she walked towards the direction she had come from earlier. “Would you like some tea? Or coffee?”

Feeling embarrassed of my own stupidity, I turned to follow her. “Some black coffee would be fine.” I said, as she entered the open kitchen.

As embarrassed as I was, I still could not help but follow each and every movement of Naira with my eyes.

More so, because of how simple she looked.

She was dressed in light grey ‘One In A Minion’ printed boxy t-shirt paired with dark blue shorts. She had removed the rings with chains from her 4th and 5th piercings while the other 3 pairs stayed where I had seen them the previous night. Her nose piercing also remained unchanged. Her hair highlights were more prominent in the broad daylight.

When she turned towards me to give me the mug of coffee, I noticed how bright her eyes looked even without any eye-makeup.

And when she handed me the mug with a quiet “here”, I noticed something else too.

The small ring I had seen on her lower lip was missing. What threw me on a loop was that the skin looked unmarred and untouched by any needle. I definitely saw a piercing there last night. Or was I imagining that. A fake then?

A moment later, she announced, “That was a fake.”

That broke my stare and my eyes jumped up to meet hers. She must have noticed my unwarranted stare. But she looked back at me with a smile, before she started walking towards the sofa. I followed suit.

“I could not decide between a nose piercing or a belly button piercing. So I thought I would use fake ones to see which would look better.” She explained.

Her statement brought up yet another memory of the previous night. At some point of the night, I seem to have caught a glimpse of the said fake belly button piercing. Two flawlessly shining stones, one a bit smaller than the other, had sparkled in the colourful lights of the club.

Shaking my head, as if to shake the image off, I looked at her. She had taken a seat on the sofa, a laptop perched on her lap as she sat in a criss-crossed legs position. The presence of a pair of spectacles on her face surprised me. But I gathered myself before I could have continued to stare at her once again.

I went up to stand in front of her across the table. “I am sorry.” I uttered.

She seemed a little surprised. “What for?” She asked.

“For staring, back there. And for troubling you last night.” I uttered again, my head bowed, unable to meet her eyes.

I had been embarrassing myself again and again, just like the first time we met. How could I even stand in front of her without feeling any shame, I did not know.

The sound of her chuckle reached my ears. “Come sit here, Ishaan. You must be having a hangover. Even if you don't have one, you should drink that while it's still warm. You will feel better.” She pointed to the mug I had cupped between my palms.

Like an obedient child, I sat down beside her. She diverted her attention towards her laptop.

While she continued working on her laptop, the thought of peeping to see what she was doing ran through my mind. But that would not be a good thing to do. At the same time I also realised that I didn’t know what she did for a living.

“Um- Naira?”

It surprised me when she stopped what she was doing and turned to me, giving me her full attention. When was the last time someone had given me their entire attention, just to listen to what I had to say to them? I could not remember.

“Oh! Uh- I just, um- what are you doing?” I finished awkwardly.

“This? Just working on a design. Let me tell you Ishaan, being an Interior Designer is such a pain in the ass. Some clients just get on the nerves, I tell you. They just can’t make up their mind and make me do the entire design at least 4 to 5 times before agreeing to something. And some clients are just…” She rambled on.

I was content with listening to her. I also found it intriguing. Meeting new people everyday, getting to know them, their thoughts and tastes, getting to do something different every time. It all sounded very interesting. Being a Data Analyst was stressful as it is. Sitting in front of the desktop for the whole day was anything but interesting anyway.

“What about those photographs?” I asked once Naira was done with her ranting.

“Those are me being a terrific photographer.” Naira grinned. I was impressed to say the least.

Done with the coffee, I stood up from the sofa and turned to once again look at the photographs. “They are very beautiful.” I said truthfully.

“So I have heard.” Naira laughed. I could not help but smile at her.

Was it just me, or was Naira's smile and laughter really contagious? I did not know.

A few seconds of silence passed before it was broken by Naira, with an unexpected question.

“Do you have any plans tonight, Ishaan?”

I shook my head in negation. I seldom had any plans.

“That’s great! Let’s hang out tonight.”

“What?”

*****

Overrated (Part 2)

Life was boring.

My life, that is.

I definitely could not vouch for others'.

10 hours’ work, 5 days a week, weekends off, at times overtime without any pay.

Office to home, home to office. Well, not exactly home, but who cares.

Same shit everyday. In one word, boring.

Yes, my life was definitely boring.

Just another Friday evening, almost night to be exact.

Walking on the footpath, I made my way towards the apartment building where I and Hardik shared an apartment. Hardik had a date tonight, one he managed to snag with some new joinee from some other company’s office in the same office building as ours.

Me? Well, I just managed to finally finish my shift, which was supposed to be over around 1 hour back, but lucky me got caught up with some extra work because Hardik had a date.

I felt like cursing at him. But realised that I should not be bitter about someone getting some excitement in life. Unlike mine.

Sighing I tried to think what I could do once I got back home.

The only thing I could do was order some food online and watch something on Netflix.

As I thought this, my eyes inevitably looked around. There were people, lots of people. 

People who were dressed up for going out, clubbing, dates, movies. People who were walking hand in hand smiling at each other; in groups laughing, teasing; talking on the phone about directions on how to reach a certain place, their destination for the evening I suppose.

At times, I felt so out of place, standing among these people yet not fitting in anywhere. Lonely, even when I am standing in a crowd.

It's not like I didn’t have friends. But I had always been on the quieter side of the spectrum.  

I had crushes, though I knew it would go nowhere. I never really had a chance with most of them anyway.

Sometimes I would come across a friend telling me how some girl thought I was cute. But that was all. It's not like I would walk up to that girl and say ‘Hey, I heard you thought I was cute. Let’s go get some coffee together’. Nope. That was not me.

So yes, I was lonely. And my life was boring. But I tried not to dwell in self pity. It would just make me crave some tubs of ice cream, anyway.

I was just subtly looking at people around me and not really envying anyone while I continued walking. The distance felt unusually long today, maybe because I was tired and wanted nothing more than to take a long relaxing shower and execute my plan for the night.

Even so, I felt my walk come to a halt and my brows came together in a frown when I registered the tug on my shirt from behind.

My forehead un-creased and my mind went blank as my eyes landed on a face I had seen only once before and thought I would never see again.

“Lover boy!” The person said. The excitement and enthusiasm laced in the two words made my mind work again. Why would anyone be excited to see me?

Even as my mind supplied that question, my eyes took in her oval face, her button nose, her round cheeks. Her lips were painted darker than the last time.

There were some changes. The small stone stud on one side of her nose was replaced with two rings that seemed to go into the same piercing. A small ring sat on the left side of her lower lip. An addition then. Her eyes looked lighter. Or was it the street lights playing tricks? Her hair seemed a bit longer, like an inch or two. But the undercut was sharp, as if she got it done recently. I could also see some sections of her hair were lighter than the rest.

Last time, I had seen only one ear but I had an inkling that the number of piercings may not be equal on both sides. It was confirmed today. The ear I had seen last time still had 5 piercings. The 1st from the bottom still had that small golden ring, while the 2nd had a tiny pale pink pearl and the 3rd had a stone-studded small triangle in an oddly pinkish metal. The 5th one had a similar ring with a long chain like last time, but no beads and the 4th had a replica of the 5th, but with a shorter chain. Her other ear, though, had only 3 piercings, adorned by the counterparts of the 1st, 2nd and 3rd of the other ear. Her long neck was not left barren like the last time. A black lace choker sat there.

She was dressed in black jeans that seemed to hug her legs like second skin, which were torn at her knees. Equally black boots covered her feet. They were paired with a deep neck, very short, black top and a light-green, camouflage-print, bomber jacket. The unwanted thought that the top might not actually be a top at all suddenly flew through my mind, making my eyes dart upward. The consequence of which was, my wide eyes reconnecting with her amused ones.

“Remember me?” She asked, excitement still lacing each of her words.

“Ye-yes.” I stuttered. Of course, I stuttered. I wanted to roll my eyes at myself.

“How long has it been? 2 months? 3 months?” She asked, as if trying to remember when was the last time she met one of her close friends. We didn’t even know each other. Why she was behaving like that was beyond my imagination.

As my mind was busy trying to figure that out, my mouth automatically opened to answer her much-obvious rhetorical question. “2 months and 20 days.”

“Oooooooohhhhhhhhh” She let out, even as she looked at me in amazement. “You were so heartbroken that you even counted the days?” She asked, the amazement was slowly replaced by amusement.

“That’s not it. I just tend to remember stuffs.” I hurriedly explained.

“Wow! Lover boy has hidden talent. Or talents? By the way, I am Naira.”

Oh. “Ishaan.”

“Nice to meet you, Ishaan. Where were you headed to? Did you just get off work?”

“Yes. I was headed home.”

“Home? Don’t you have anywhere to be? Like a hangout or a date or something?”

I just shrugged to that.

“Ohkay then. Good thing we crossed paths. I was headed to a party. Now we can go together.”

“N-no. I have stuffs to do. I can not go to a party.” What was she saying? Why would she take me to a party where I was not even invited? Heck, I would not even know anyone.

“But we are already here.” She said, sounding as innocent as a baby. But babies can’t talk. A kid then.

My thoughts about how innocent she sounded came to a stop when my mind registered something. Wait, what? “Wha-what?” I managed to voice out.

It was then that I finally realised we were indeed standing in front of a club. A long line of people dressed in various colours and kinds stretched and my eyes followed it till the end. We were standing right in front of the double doors of the club.

I looked at her grinning face, then down to where she had trapped my arm into both of hers. When did that even happen? When did we even start walking to reach here? What was even happening?

A chuckle beside me broke off my jumbled thoughts. “You look cute when you are clueless.” She said in between her chuckling, while also pulling me towards the double doors.

I was sure, like very sure. Like cent percent sure. We were going to be interrupted by the stoic looking bouncer. There was a long line of people waiting to get in and she just walked up to it, pulling me in tow, as if it was the most natural thing to do. As if the long line didn’t matter. As if the stares we were getting didn’t matter.

The moment we stood in front of the door, the bouncer pulled one of the doors open for us to pass through. I opened my mouth to say something. To ask a question? Or to protest against her hold? Whatever it might have been for didn’t make it past my voice box. No sound came.

The inside was like any other club, loud and crowded. Not that I had been to many clubs. No, I have not.

Before I could fully take in our surroundings, I was being pulled towards the opposite side of the club.

Before I could register any of the names she said and take in any of the faces she introduced me to, I was handed a glass of shots.

Before I could decide whether I even wanted to drink, she had already pushed the hand that held the glass towards my mouth, the rim of the glass making contact with my lips.

The only thought running through my mind at that moment was a question. A damn serious question. Of which I didn’t have any answer. And I didn’t think I would get any answer as well.

What did I get myself into?

Oh well. Maybe this was better than online food and Netflix.

Maybe.

*****

Overrated (Part 1)

Society was cruel.

It had standards and expectations that no one could reach.

Either you were too fair or dark.

Either you were too skinny or fat.

Either you were too polite or rude.

Either you were too lazy or a workaholic.

And these were just a few from the long long list of what society thought and believed.

As for me, I was a 20-something guy with lanky limbs that looked like they would just fall off any moment, an unruly and unmanageable mop of dark hair making me look like there was a permanent pot of bushes on my head, my large ears that could have belonged to a giant and my somewhat-stooped posture, paired with my stature giving everyone the idea that I was unhealthy. Like, about-to-faint unhealthy.

In short, I was a tall and lanky fellow, without much muscles to show. Always have been.

There had been instances in my childhood where some of the elderly people of the housing complex we resided in, at that time, had asked me on more than one occasion whether I was not being fed properly by my parents.

And my mother, being a mother obviously, had taken the comment to her heart and tried to over feed me, in hopes of getting me chubby. The memories of which were enough to send a chill down my spine, even now.

“Ishaan! Let’s go, dude!” My roommate, Hardik, who was also my colleague, hollered from the living room.  

“Coming!” I shouted back.

Once again focusing on my reflection in the mirror that stared back with wide eyes, I let out a deep sigh. I might not get another chance to sigh this freely once I went out this door tonight.

Refusing to acknowledge the slight heartbroken look on my own face, I looked at my attire for the evening once again. It’s just a pitch black shirt and equally black denims with a simple slate gray Nehru jacket to give the attire a traditional look. Hardik finalised the outfit from the limited options my wardrobe had to offer.

Truth be told, I did not want to go.

Watching my crush of almost 4 years getting married to some stranger was not something I ever planned to do. 

But did I have any choice? No. Apparently not attending your colleague’s wedding reception party was considered… rude?

“Ishaaaaaaaaan!!!” Hardik called once again. More like whined.

Of course, he was impatient. After all, he was going there to stuff his deeper-than-Mariana Trench stomach and get his fill of ogling at ‘pretty creations of nature’.

Letting out another sigh, I finally turned away from the mirror and took my wallet and phone before leaving the room.

*****

Like any other Indian wedding, there was music, food, people and a whole lot of noise.

We soon found some of our other colleagues who had managed to make it. Some of them had the same moto as Hardik, while some had more of a friendly relation with the bride.

I trailed behind the group when it was our turn to congratulate the newly weds and wish them a happy married life. And I stayed behind when we were made to face the camera for a happy click.

It was not like I had ever expected my feelings to be reciprocated. No. I was quite practical about everything in life in general and had a fair idea how these things worked.

People would insist about how looks didn’t matter and all, but the truth was looks dominated every other aspect of a person. No questions asked. At least, in comparison to personality. If a person’s bank balance was added to the equation, then that would win the priority hands down.

In my case, I had neither looks nor what one would refer to as a huge bank balance.

So, yes. My expectations were never very high. But it didn’t hurt any less.

Nursing that significantly insignificant hurt heart of mine, I found myself following the rest of the group from my office, in their eating spree. The venue was divided into two portions, one indoor, where the bride and groom were seated and a lot more chairs were arranged for guests, and another outdoor, an open and large space where long tables lined the periphery of the area with food displayed on them while the middle space was littered with smaller, circular tables and chairs arranged together.

Hardik, I and the rest of our colleagues went around the area and scanned the dishes on offer. Every now and then, someone from our small group would suggest some dish that we ‘must try’ and the rest would end up adding it to our plates.

Well, it was free food, heart broken or not. No harm done.

We were settled on one of the tables, devouring the delicious food when a particularly spicy dish hit my taste buds hard. I almost choked, grabbing the attention of the rest of the occupants of the table.

“Dude, drink some water or something.” Hardik supplied, with a mouthful of chicken. The rest nodded somewhat sympathetically, their focus from plates wavering only for those few seconds before getting back to eating.

Trying to suppress a coughing fit, courtesy of my irritated throat, which was thanks to the spicy dish, I left the table and made my way to the makeshift drinks counter.

I swiftly grabbed one of the numerous bottles of water that were placed on one side of the counter and was busy chugging down the contents when a particularly soothing smell invaded my senses.

Lavender.

Separating the bottle from my lips, I turned my head towards the aroma to see a figure standing right beside me, a few inches shorter than me. The very first thing to grab my attention were the ear piercings. There were a total of… 4? No, 5 piercings. Starting from the usual place on the earlobe, the piercings gradually went upwards. The 1st from the bottom had a small golden ring, the 2nd and 4th had smaller rings with tiny stones embedded that twinkled in the lights, but it looked like the rings were interconnected with a tiny chain, the 3rd had a star shaped stud and the 5th one had another ring with a long chain of golden beads hanging from it.

Following the beads down the chain, my eyes landed on a long slender neck, exposed by the short hair. Like those androgynous haircuts. With undercut, maybe?

As if sensing my stare, the figure turned to look at me and large dark pools met mine. Were those contact lenses?

The first thing I noticed on her face was not her oval face, not her button nose, not her round cheeks and not her shapely eyebrows. No. The first thing I noticed was a small stone stud sitting securely on one side of her nose. A nose piercing, then. That was followed by her dark painted lips - that were definitely not red - moving, and I was broken out of whatever trance I was in when I heard her words.

“Lover boy!” She said, quite cheerfully.

“Huh?” I was confused.

Chuckling to what I assumed must be my confused face, she added. “Saw you in there when you were greeting the new couple with your colleagues. Looked quite heart-broken to be honest. One of the many admirers of Radhika, I presume.” There was a teasing tone to her voice. “Or is it the groom you were crushing on? No judgments.” She added, raising her hands as if in surrender.

That was when my gaze flickered to her hands and followed up her arms. Well, one arm actually, as the dark blue top she was wearing covered only one arm and left the other bare. Which was covered in tattoos starting from the top most of the arm and ending at the wrist. A sleeve?

Being effectively distracted, it took me a few seconds before her words finally sank in. I immediately felt my cheeks becoming warmer as embarrassment washed over me. First, being caught gawking at someone. Then, that said someone correctly guessing your well-kept secret. To top it all off, suggesting something ridiculously more embarrassing.

“Th-that’s not-” I started to say, to somehow explain that she was wrong. But I was interrupted when a man made an appearance behind the counter.

She immediately turned towards the said man and a slight movement at the periphery of my vision caught my attention. The man had just placed two bottles of water on the counter, one similar to the ones already placed on the side of the counter.

“See? Told you.” She said as if proving a point, as she grabbed the bottles. 

The next moment, she turned to me. “Don’t forget the desserts.” She chimed. And turned to walk away.

After she had taken a couple of steps away, I was finally able to see her full attire.

A dark blue crop top, with only one full-sleeve paired with a multi-coloured skirt. The attire itself was quite simple, to be honest. What brought an edge to it was the hairstyle, tattoos and ear pierc- 

Hold on! 

My eyes narrowed momentarily as they caught onto something on one side of her exposed waist. Within a moment they widened when I realised it was beautifully carved black ink peaking from beneath the top. The fact that the ink seemed to continue not only upwards beneath the top but also downwards disappearing beneath her skirt, made me gulp. How big was the design?

I didn’t get to ponder much on it as I was effectively brought back to my surroundings by the man behind the drinks counter.

“Sir? Do you need anything?” He asked patiently. Though I was quite sure he was internally judging me for even looking at the… girl? woman? lady? What should I refer to her as?

She was young enough to be a girl. But maybe she was an adult after all. Then wo-

“Sir?” My thoughts were once again interrupted by the man.

“Nothing, thank you.” I finally addressed him, grabbed two bottles of water and walked away to the table my colleagues were still seated at.

“I thought you went to drink water, not manufacture it. What took you so long?” Hardik quipped as I sat back in front of my abandoned plate.

“Nothing.” I said, focusing back on the food. It was very much likely that the encounter today was going to be the only one.

Just then one of our colleagues stood up from the chair they were occupying. “Let’s get some desserts.”

The words made me think back to the words the woman had spoken before walking away.

I groaned internally when the realisation hit me that she must have seen us fill our plates to the brim.

Did I come here only to embarrass myself repeatedly? That too to the same person?

I let out a sigh. No use in pondering over that now, was it?

KIDNAPPED (PART 5 of 5)

She didn't look like she could kill someone.

Then again, she didn't look like she could kidnap someone either.

His head was throbbing. He was groggy. The feeling was somehow familiar yet his brain was too foggy to make anything of it.

He groaned as he tried to open his eyes. But some kind of bright warm light made it a very difficult feat for him.

After struggling for God knows how long, he was finally able to open his eyes and was greeted with the sunlight that was entering the room through the windows and falling right on his eyes.

Another groan left his lips as he turned his throbbing head to the other side. This time he was faced with a beige wall that lacked any kind of decorating items. 

Slowly but steadily he realised that he was in his room. Having shifted to his new apartment only a week ago, he had barely gotten enough time to unpack all his belongings and settle down, so the decorations had to wait.

He tried to locate his phone on the bed with his wandering hands, to see the time, as he could not figure what time of the day it was.

Once he found it, he brought it close to his face and was not-so-pleasantly surprised to see it was nearing 4:30 p.m.

He tried to remember what could have happened the night before to make him sleep through the day and also give him such a massive headache. As the memories of the previous night flooded his mind, he groaned once again thinking about how his manager would probably chew his head off if she came to know that he had spent almost the entire night at a party.

Checking his phone once again to see if he had any missed calls or messages from his manager, he finally noticed 4 missed calls and 2 messages, all timed around two hours ago. The first message simply consisted of some colourful and choice words and the second simply consisted of the information about when and where he was supposed to meet her before the interview he had this evening. Looking at the time once again, he deduced that he had about 2 and a half hours before he had to leave.

He stayed splayed on his bed for another couple of minutes before even attempting to leave the bed.

After he managed to sit up, he realised that he must have had too much to drink the previous night to leave him feeling this groggy and dizzy. Another couple of minutes passed in which he tried not to fall face-first as he made his way towards his bathroom.

A thorough shower later he felt a little better but thought it would be best if he took a pill for his headache. And also if he ate something, because if not his throbbing head then his growling stomach was sure to kill him.

Slowly making his way to his still new kitchen, he took out some juice from his refrigerator and heated up some of the home cooked food his mother had packed and stored for him two days back when she had come to visit him, in the microwave oven.

He ate as he checked the news feeds and the notifications of his various Social Media accounts. Nothing seemed to pique his interest.

After he was done, he washed the glass and the container from which he had directly eaten his meal and took a pill for headache, before making his way back to his bedroom.

It was while he was looking through his closet to find something suitable to wear when his eyes landed on two boxes placed at the bottom shelf. And an unconscious smile found its way onto his lips.

It has been a little more than 6 years since that fateful night. The night when he was kidnapped by a young woman whose name was still unknown to him save for the information that her name started with T and she liked the colour green.

He still remembered how he had found himself splayed on his bed in his room in his tiny apartment of those days, the following day. At first, he found it hard to believe that he was not murdered by those buffed up ‘boys’ of ‘T’ as he was sure he would be and the police would probably have found his dead and decaying body a few days later in some garbage.

But that was definitely not the case as he woke up, safe and sound, at his own place.

However, that was not all. When he made to leave the bed, he found that his room was littered with several boxes of different sizes. One of a brand new iphone with a sticky note on it stating “Sorry about your phone. All your contacts are already saved in this one. -T”. Another consisted of the 3-piece suit in orange he wore, with a similar sticky note stating “Coz you liked it sooooooo much. -T”. Another consisted of the neon green sneakers, the sticky note stating “And this too. -T”. Another two boxes consisted of the white sneakers and denim and blazer set that she had chosen for him to wear. “Coz you looked like a runway model in them. -T”, the sticky note said. And another had the watch case along with the four watches she had asked him to choose from, with the note stating “I know you liked them all. -T”.

One particularly big box was gift wrapped in black, complete with a red ribbon, unlike the others which were simply brown boxes. The note on it stated “A gift from the girls. -T”. Though he had been afraid to see what was in it, he had later found that it consisted of a grooming kit and a set of four cologne.

There were also two envelopes on the bedside table, along with a glass of water and a pill for his headache. “You should drink a lot of water and stay hydrated for today. Try to stay indoors and take rest for the day. -T”, the note stuck to the glass stated.

One of the envelopes had a signed check with double the amount of what he got for his usual shoots. Alas, he could not make out the name from the signature. The other envelope had the recipes of the vegetable soup and the reddish concoction. “Coz you seemed to love the taste. -T”.

He had felt overwhelmed to say the least. Each and every note was written in the same handwriting and signed in the same way. Except for the recipes, of course.

It was quite clear to him that she had indeed written all the notes herself. She didn’t need to do all those. Or give him those things. Sparing his life would have been enough for sure. But with time he had learned to cherish those, as a reminder of the night when he thought he would never get to see the light of the day again.

He still had each and every item he got that day and he also used them from time to time. All except the 3-piece suit in orange and the neon green sneakers. Like who would even think of wearing them in their right state of mind! Definitely not him!

Now, so many years later, his fame has only increased and he has become a well-known face, having starred as the face and main character of numerous hit TV drama series.

Shaking his head he picked out what he would wear to the interview that evening.

As he got ready, he could not help but let out a little chuckle as he remembered the events of that night.

The night he was kidnapped.

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