• ADVIKA •

“Anyways,” he diverted the topic while clearing his throat and continued, “Are you ready for tomorrow's ballroom night?” He asked, referring to the Sangeet that had “Ballroom” as its theme.

Nodding my head, I replied, “Yeah. I think I am,” completely ignoring the fact that I hate parties.

Though I hate to say this, yes, I am that typical “antisocial in the name of introverted” female lead who's almost straight out of a Wattpad book.

“Oh, great! I can't really wait for the party.” If one sees the sparkle in his eyes, he's being genuine; unlike how I am when people mention parties.

***

THE NEXT DAY…

“Hey!” I heard Ishaan's voice from outside, associated with a knock on the door. “You ready?”

“Well… Almost,” I shout from inside, looking down at my almost-naked body that has only a black brassieres. “Five more minutes.” I looked back at my underwear, camisole, and my satin caramel brown maxi full-sleeved gown.

Five minutes after getting ready, I peeped through the peephole, hopelessly hoping that Ishaan would be waiting for me.

And, yeah, he did.

“Ishaan, are you there?” I asked to confirm it.

“Well, yeah. Are you ready?” He repeated the question.

“Yeah, I am.” I stepped one inch backwards to make it easier for him to come inside.

He opened the door and gave me a glimpse of himself, leaving me to depart from the book universe to my delusional universe.

Who else wouldn't if a man with dark green eyes, dusky skin, messy hair, and trimmed beard shows up with a beige coat suit, a pair of beige pants, and a chocolate brown shirt that has one button open?

The mention of the trimmed beard and the colour of his shirt had my eyes wide and my heart throb like a person performing an act with stage anxiety.

“Ishaan. Where is your beard?” I stepped half an inch closer to him, giving myself a clearer peek of his beard.

“You asked for it. You got it, Mia Anima.” He brushed his beard and shot a smile that had finally created visible creases around.

“Mia Anima?” I frowned out of perplexity and squinted my eyes while all he gave was nothing but a lopsided smile.

Mia Anima? Why does this sound like a potential nickname from Dante Russo?

“Mobile, please,” I extended my hand and asked Ishaan for his mobile. As he took them from his pants pocket and unlocked it for me, I opened the translator app in his mobile and typed those words he said to me, in order to get them translated in English.

My soul.

I'm not some particular dumb female lead named Maahi Sharma to not understand pages of thoughts behind those two simple words.

Butterfly, Sunshine, Princess, Red, Sarge, Bollito, Shortcake, Mia Cara, Love, Baby, Pet, Little One, Darling, Meatball.

These were the list of nicknames I loved until a few seconds ago when Ishaan called me Mia Anima.

Stepping closer to my ears, his breath tickled my cheeks as he whispered, “You look like Elsa, Mia Anima,” eyeing at the magenta shades on my cheeks, which wasn't any face powder.

Comparing his girl with Disney characters was what every girl would fucking wish for in her lifetime. Talk about comparing carrots with diamonds!

“And, this ice queen can melt down whenever she’s with her sunshine,” I whispered on his face, maintaining the flirtatious mood instead of awkwardly replying with a “Shall we go?”

That guy doesn't deserve one, people.

“I don't want the ice queen to die. Got a lot more to do!” He countered while stepping an inch close to me, leaving me to step back to providing him the space. I tilted my head to ask for examples while he replied, “Like… Applying ointments to her whenever she's hurt yourself. Taking her out on beach trips. Playing her favourite songs even before it strikes her mind. Making cappuccino and croissants for breakfast. Giving her relationship advice. Flirting with her more consistently than I breathe. Pretending to have sex in order to annoy people over call.”

“Pretend?” I tilted my head to my left, my mind surprised at my flirting skills.

He, surprised at my counter-response, suppressed his grin and looked down, probably controlling his hormones not to blush.

“Sorry to ruin your moment, guys!” A male voice thundered in between us, forcing us to step out of our romantic universe. I moved to my left and saw Ved outside the room, looking dapper in a coat suit set with a white shirt. “But… The function will start within half an hour, and Mehak needs you two in the party hall right now.”

“Yeah, sure. We'll be there soon,” muttered Ishaan and rolled his eyes. “And, it looks like your fiancee needs your ass there more than ours. So, please go, His Highness!”

Letting out an approving chuckle, Ved walked away while we looked at each other and laughed our hearts out.

***

As the white and yellow lights of the party hall, sounds of high heels clicking against the floor and laughter, and staff rushing here and there, I was transfixed to the entrance like the many other sculptures at the hall, obstructing the path of party addicts to their best night.

“Hey, Advika!” I wished it was anybody but Francesca, but it turned out to be the contrary. “Are you ready for the night?”

“Yep!” I turned to her with my hands clapping once and my lips developing into a lopsided grin. “I can't wait to dance with Ishaan.”

“Oh, really! Did he really say so?” She stepped half an inch backward, shooting me a grin one shoots at dork heads. “Let's wait for him and ask for it.”

And, as if on cue, there appeared the man of the moment and my book boyfriend, Ishaan Ahuja, talking with his friends and pausing it the moment he saw me.

He came past his friends towards us and greeted with a grin while the fucked-up Francesca questioned, “Ishaan, you look so hot! I'm sweating a lot, to be honest.” As he responded with a humble bow and a cute smile, she added with confidence, “I would like to sweat more. So… Why not dance with me?”

“Sure!” He replied without a thought of his Mia “Fucking” Anima, only to look at me after giving a nod.

“Great!” She beamed like a kid and had her hand grip her waist as she asked, “Shall we go?”

He nodded a yes, linked his arms with hers, and walked away from this oh-so-naïve bitch.

I wonder why fictional men love burning their ladylove's stomachs on the fire of jealousy, only to give her a hot smooch while warning her that he's hers. I mean, if you have plans to make her yours, why do you have to “have fun” with other women?

God, all men are the same. No matter where they're.

After roaming with a motive worse than a vacuum cleaner, the party started with the DJ playing an Indian song and the people dancing with their respective partners. After eyeing all the couples, my eyes fell on the couple who looked almost like rotis and butterscotch ice cream.

As Francesca's hand slid to Ishaan's chest and his round her waist, they swayed to the tune. Though Francesca was in the moment, looking right into Ishaan the way I do, Ishaan glanced at me ten times per five seconds, his lips pursed and his eyes wide enough to garner my attention.

Muttering, “Fuck it,” I stormed out of the party hall while glancing over at the hall, ensuring that nobody could see me vanishing.

As the cold atmosphere met my face, relief washed through me as my heels clicked against the marble staircase. After reaching the grassy lawn, I threw my heels off my feet, carried them in my hands, and walked out, looking back at whether anyone was coming after me.

I saw it once. There was nobody.

I saw it twice. There was nobody again.

I saw thrice and then a faint outline of a person running out from the hall. All I could from afar was the cream tuxedo and the chocolate brown shirt. The mysterious figure glanced all around the lawn, and after seeing me, he raised his hands and waved at me.

Am I sure that he waved at me? Yes. Do I have any idea about him? No.

Gesturing that he would come, he raced down the staircase and ran towards me, my eyes later revealing his identity and allowing my heart to malfunction effortlessly yet beautifully.

As he was an inch away from me, he panted while I, after taking ample time to process what was going on, asked, “Ishaan. Why did you come? What about the party?”

“What's the use of the party when its life is here?” He managed to string words amidst extreme panting as he pointed his chin at me. Before I could counter it with something else, he added, “I thought we would make a better party than the one going on there.”

“Fine, just sit for a while. Do you want to go to the room?” I stepped closer and bent down a little to see his face.

“No. We need to go somewhere else,” he replied, his rainforest eyes gleaming out of playfulness.

***

Fiordo di Crapolla, also known as Crapolla Cove, was what Ishaan supposedly had in mind when he said, “We had to go somewhere else.” The gleaming night skies and the pitch black sea water, complemented with creamy yellow sand came as a surprise to my senses as we were already seated on the sand and witnessing the rendezvous between the moon and the ocean.

“Ishaan. Shall we play a game?” I asked the question that appeared in my mind a few microseconds ago. As he looked at me as if to ask what it was, I added, “You can ask me anything you want, and vice versa,” not allowing my smile to escape from my lips. He nodded his head while I clapped my hands and pointed my chin at him, suggesting he should start the game.

“Okay. Tell me about yourself.” Decent start, Ishaan!

“Fine! I was born and raised in Lucknow. I'm the only daughter for my parents who are super-protective just like other Indian parents. My school life was pretty okay with countable friends from there. I opted for a B. Com course along with Chartered Accountant, and that was when I shifted to Delhi— which took one kind of a convincing session— and met Aarvi. Currently, I'm in my final year of my course. My next plan is to pursue a course on Certified Public Accountant. Apart from that, I also spend time reading books, binging movies, and running an Instagram account that's all about reviewing and ranting about books.”

“Wow!” He blinked incessantly and made an O with his mouth. “You're really a busy woman indeed.”

“Haha, that's the life of an Indian student,” I chuckled and shook my head.

“Now… Won't you ask me about myself?” He asked and pouted like a kid.

“Why should I? I do know about you. You were born and raised in Milan. Your father is an Indian and your mother is an Italian. You're the youngest son and you have an elder sister, who's married now and in London. Ved was your friend since you were three and both of you did almost everything together. You opted for a course in Architecture and that was where you met Maahi, just like how Ved met his senior-turned-wife Mehak. Now, you're working at some reputed firm as a Junior Architect. You're also a certified guitarist and love to do gardening during your free time. Is that all?”

“Are you stalking me?” He asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion and gaze on me.

Fuck, I am one kind of a dork head indeed. I wish I could scream right now and scorn at myself.

God, please let the moment drift off.

“I always had this suspicion. You knew me like I'm your favourite movie star. I've always noticed that you address me like so in your mails. Why is that so? Who are you for real? How did you know this information about me?”

My heartbeat reduced to normalcy as we heard Ishaan's mobile ringtone. Me, who had his mobile with myself to avoid distraction, glanced at the Caller ID, only to let my heart bounce as if it was on a bungee jump.

“Ishaan,” I whispered in a cautious tone and continued, “A call from India.”

Though he wore a frown as an expression, it vanished as he sighed and instructed, “Put the call in speakerphone mode.”

“You sure?” I asked, despite knowing that he asked for it only since he knew what he was doing. As he nodded a yes, I connected the call and put it on the speakerphone mode, just like the way he wanted.

“Ish?” A bold voice of a female that momentarily resembled a meek one made me conclude that it was the last person I expected to be.

“What do you want?” The volatile shift in his tone— though wrapped me in goosebumps— had my heart warm.

Because, that bitch deserves it.

“How are—”

“What. Do. You. Want?” Seeing Pissed-Off Ishaan was seeing Aurora Borealis as an Asian. “Just tell me that.”

“Ish. I know you must be angry at me,” Maahi started off with an apologetic and guilty tone. “But… I am sorry. I thought I could survive without your presence. But, I couldn’t. I lost. Come back… Be here, Ishaan. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—”

As her tone gradually shot up as a dramatic whine, Ishaan cut through her apology as he said, “You know what? I thought I can't survive without your presence. But, I can. My life is better off with my new love.” I sensed his gleaming eyes staring into my black eyes as he uttered the word “new love”, screaming that he meant it. “We're in love. And, I have already forgotten that you existed, hence don't ever show off your bloody ass here.”

He pointed his chin at the mobile, suggesting I disconnect the call. As I heard the recurrent beep as a sign that we're private yet again, I asked, “Why did you lie that we're in love?”

“I didn't lie.”

Upon receiving the reply so spontaneously, my ears refused to hear the right thing.

As I asked him to repeat it, he dictated, “I. Didn't. Lie.”

As the silence of the night was topped with the buzz of crickets and my rash breathing cemented my ears, I tried to control my heartbeat and the speed of my blood flow, to no avail.

Then, the sound of his mobile ringtone broke the ten-seconds-long flowy silence between us, forcing me to hand over his mobile to him. He, after connecting the call, walked away from me for better experience of hearing, pushing me into the pit of delusion where the air of romance suffocated me in a blissful manner.

Tears obstructed my view as I heard the sound of a café nearby playing You Belong With Me.

Surprising, yet right timing.

I hummed to the tune of love when I felt like stardust sprinkled on me, forcing me to sleep the way one does after a hefty meal. Without hesitating that the floor was sandy, my body landed on it while my mind advised against it. I drifted to sleep as the sound of the song and Ishaan blabbering to a person in Italian filled my ears. The last thing I saw was a white light above me, creating an ellipse in the sky.

***

THE NEXT DAY…

The floor which bore me wasn't sandy anymore as the soft touch against my skin woke me up from sleep. I got off with my head feeling like someone was hammering it, and realised that the surroundings were so painfully familiar to me.

The door flung open as I saw a girl in a faded blue oversized shirt and dark pink shorts reciprocating my shell-shocked reaction when I saw her.

“Advika. You back?” Aarvi frowned her eyebrows as she asked these, forcing me to realise what was going on around me.

***

Here is the break to their love story, as Advika has her shits to clean up.

Ishaan too.

And, wait for the next chapter. I have a small surprise for you all.

Stay tuned for more!