|Chapter Nineteen|

It's Saturday today.

Payal's birthday.

And as was planned, Aisha and the twins left for Payal's place at seven in the evening, dressed in casual summer outfits and presents tagging along. While Vivek's easily disclosed that he's got Payal a pair of silver earrings, Veer likes to keep the secrecy of the gift-wrapper encased present prevalent, explaining that it's something Payal would love, though Aisha highly doubts his intentions with that smirk which graces his lips.

Climbing out of the taxi, the trio heads into the Desai's residence. The gates are huge iron ones, smeared with charcoal black and resembling the entrance of some sort of ancient fort, surrounded by endless walls. The entire street seems to be dotted with abodes mirroring such compounds with massive lawns and huge silhouettes of residences, bright light trickling through the drawn curtains over their wide windows. Passing the eclectically open gateway, Aisha raises her brows when she takes in the place.

Amid the setting sun, the fiery hues paint the dying light, plummeting the visibility drastically with twilight draping over the Mumbai air. The grass over the lawns is neatly mowed and managed with softly trimmed hedges surrounding a seating arrangement of bamboo seats near the front porch. Rose and tulip bushes line the periphery, seemingly dull and lifeless due to the darkness which slowly descends upon the scene.

Averting her eyes over to the house, Aisha's left a bit disappointed, in all honesty. All of the elements on this residence so far make it a perfect set-up for a queen's castle, but what stands in front of her is a three-storeyed modern home, clad in shades of ivory and the terrace alight with faint tracks of music seeping through the glass panels, little figures of people visible from where they stand.

"Aisha?"

Turning her eyes over to an amused Vivek, she wiggles her brows quizzically. "Stop gawking at everything," he manages to tell her with a straight face, suppressing the laugh that threatens to emanate now.

"Not my fault!" Aisha argues, "I mean the girl is a freaking millionaire and she never told us!"

"Not a millionaire, but yeah, my parents are big shots."

Turning, the trio finds Payal waving a hand at them with a wide grin. Rushing over to the porch, Aisha hugs her friend while singing, "Happy birthday!" Laughing, Payal hugs her back with equal squeals.

"No," Payal shushes Vivek who's about to hand his present to her. Pausing on his actions, the hazel eyed boy furrows his brows at her.

"I don't take gifts before cutting the cake, remember?" Payal explains, grinning.

"I did remember!" Veer exclaims proudly, his present firmly placed in his hands.

Payal's face falls instantly when she eyes the box in the brown-eyed boy's possession. "Veer Deshmukh, you better not have brought me a box of worms like last time," she warns him.

"Not just any worms, they were silkworms!" Veer scowls, "it was such a useful gift! You could learn the process of metamorphosis or even learn how sericulture is based on them."

"Still ugly worms, if you ask me," Payal mutters before turning on her heel and marching back inside, the trio following her quickly.

"GUYS!" Payal screeches, flailing her hands to grab attention. "THE BEST STYLIST OF THE COUNTRY IS HERE!!!"

"There we go again," Aisha mumbles with horror and Vivek can't help but snort at her situation. Almost every person on the floor turns to look at Aisha with marvel, grinning and welcoming, and it's not that bad, if Aisha's being honest. Smiling back, she waves uncertainly to which the people wave back and resume to their conversations.

"The main party's up at the terrace," Payal explains to Aisha and the twins, "And if you need to just chat along or grab a drink or food, then Yash can help you with it."

"And where are you going?" Veer asks when Payal starts off.

"I'm the host, need to welcome everyone," Payal speaks with a look that says, 'Duh,' as she disappears amid the crowds, grinning and squealing with warmth at someone who just arrived.

"Oye, Veer!" someone yells from the stairway, causing Veer to grin and head off to them, yelling back with equal euphoria lacing his voice.

"What do we do now?" Aisha asks Vivek, glancing around at the party and people with cluelessness. When the latter doesn't respond, she turns to look at him, and perplexity overwhelms her senses when she takes notice of Vivek. The boy is tense, his knuckles tightening as his hand clutches his phone, his hazel eyes fixed upon the alight screen and his face mastering a worrisome scowl.

"Vi?" Aisha asks softly, nudging his side with her elbow.

As if that's enough to snap him out of his reverie, the boy looks up at her, his features smoothing out and devoid of any tension which was persistent barely a second ago. Pursing his lips, he shoves his handset into his pocket without a word, throwing a small smile at Aisha. But it's those eyes that fail to coordinate with Vivek's casual stance; they are guarded and messed up, contrasting his entire demeanour.

"Let's check out the party at the terrace," Vivek suggests to which Aisha gives in with a tentative nod, hoping everything's okay with Vivek. There're not really too many known faces in here despite Payal having claimed that she had invited their entire batch for the party. Aisha's sure the only people from Payal's batch who are here are they three themselves.

Ascending the snowy carpeted stairs, the duo navigates off to the terrace, music growing louder with every proceeding step. All the way up, Aisha keeps gawking at the pictures of famous celebrities and politicians posing in the frames over the crème shaded walls with Payal and her parents, grinning wide and happy.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" Aisha narrows her eyes at Vivek who grins at her with a nod, not fazed one bit with the aspects of the house.

"I was acting just like you when I first visited this place," he admits it, "but the admiration was a distracted one because I had to keep an eye on Veer simultaneously for the boy might actually break a vase or something pricey and ornate."

Aisha giggles with a shake of her head as they head out into the wide terrace, alight with high-powered ornate lamps that line the periphery of the safety rails, fairy lights snaking around the rails like ivy creepers, glowing like fireflies amid the darkness. The place is cluttered with people, tables, and chairs. The mild chatter persisting ceaselessly, interlacing with the beats of some western track seeping through the huge speakers at the one end of the place, being manned by a DJ- An actual freaking DJ- What is this place? A birthday party or some Friday clubbing night event?

"Aisha, Vivek!" Yash's familiar figure rushes up to them, smiling, his pearly teeth on display.

"Hey!" Aisha chirps, greeting the guy with a grin.

"Grab a seat," Yash offers, "what can I get for you?"

"We'll manage fine," Aisha waves off, taking Vivek by his arm and heading off to an adjacent table. It's already all too posh for her to digest, Aisha doesn't think she can handle being catered as well now.

"Suit yourself," Yash shrugs casually before greeting a pair of newly arrived friends, smiling winningly and hugging them both. Aisha realizes that both these siblings are actually great with socialising, easing the situation for people with effortless words and beaming faces.

"I'm honestly feeling out of place today," Vivek mutters, bobbing his knee up and down anxiously as he sits next to Aisha, fidgeting with the tablecloth with fretful fingers.

"No shit Sherlock," Aisha mumbles, causing him to quirk his lips into a small smile, his nervous actions slowly receding. But the trepidation never leaves those hazel hues. And it worries Aisha.

_____________

"Excuse me; have you seen a brunette boy wearing a black T-shirt?"

"Nope, sorry."

Sighing, Aisha traces the rest of the place for the umpteenth time, feeling dejection overwhelm her insides. Why did she decide that seeking for Veer was a good idea? Now, she doesn't even know where Vivek is! She had probably seen either of the twins hours ago, and now, it's not even funny that neither of them is picking her calls up. The music is perhaps too loud for the ringtones to hit their senses.

"Aisha!" a familiar voice calls for her from the crowds, and her heart instantly uplifts at the sight of Jayden, who might not be the persons she's looking for, but having someone she knows around is indeed a relief.

"Hey!" she greets when those honey-brown eyes peer at her, leaning against the wall and sipping a shady looking violet drink with a smile.

"Have you seen Veer?" Aisha asks him, leaning against the smooth, beige wall next to him.

"I was gonna ask you the same," he mumbles, amused as a giggle escapes his lips, which is quite unusual for a boy like Jayden who's always composed and serene.

"Are you drunk?" Aisha asks, her voice evident of the horror which surges through her.

"Are you friends with Shweta Pathak?" Jayden questions back instead, a little bit sober still.

"What?" Aisha mumbles, furrowing her brows at the context of the sudden question, those brown eyes and blue highlights of Shweta from the hairstyling contest crossing her mind.

"Are you?" Jayden presses.

Aisha's about to answer in positive when a figure interrupts them while slinging an arm around her shoulder. "Veer!" Aisha exclaims, having finally met those fawn eyes after hours of search.

"Aisha!" he greets with a tone mirroring her voice, earning a slap on his shoulder.

"Whoa," Veer mumbles, balancing the glasses in his hands, "easy there, tiger."

"What?" Aisha asks when the boy thrusts a glass into her hand with a cheeky grin.

"Aren't you thirsty?" Veer asks, gulping his own orange drink absent-mindedly.

"This isn't alcohol-based, is it?" Aisha asks. Yes, she knows that she's an underage and yes, she has no plans of getting disowned by her parents anytime soon.

"Of course not," Veer shakes his head, "I got them from the non-alcohol section."

"Thanks," Aisha mumbles with a smile, clinking her glass to Veer's own and drinking it off in one go. Man, she was thirsty indeed.

The duo turns to glance at Jayden who's chuckling to himself, twirling his glass in his hands.

"Jay?" Veer asks, concerned at the boy's stance. And it makes Aisha smile, for Veer cares about Jayden, not to forget the sweet nickname he used.

"Just so you know," Jayden mutters, grinning at them, "Paras and a few boys interchanged the liquor bottles and ripped the labels off, and that means the non-alcohol based drinks are actually alcoholic. That's how I got drunk, those bastards..."

And the rest of the words turn into faint mumbles as Jayden succumbs to a very inconvenient nap, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding off, and his shoulders drooping. Veer's quick to react when he swoops in and throws Jayden's arm around his shoulder, balancing him with ease.

"Shit," Aisha mumbles, glancing at the empty glass in her hand. She drank liquor. She did it. Shit.

"A glass won't really affect you, Ash," Veer tries comforting her, navigating Jayden off to a nearby seat where he makes the boy flop down gently, letting him doze off for a while.

"How much did you have?" Aisha asks, narrowing her eyes at Veer.

"Maybe seven glasses-"

"VEER?!"

"RELAX! How was I to know it was alcoholic?!" Veer flails his hands defensively, "maybe that's why the room keeps spinning once in a while..."

"Just great," Aisha mutters. The last thing she wants is to carry back a drunk boy to his home –where the heck is Vivek now? –and she really doesn't know when they are leaving. It's already half-past nine, and her parents would be awaiting her in less than an hour.

Aisha's yanked out of her thoughts abruptly when a hand wraps around her wrist, leading her through the crowds with quick succession. "What-" she mutters, "Payal!?"

"Let's play truth or dare!" Payal sings, still dragging Aisha with one hand, and Veer with the other.

"Okay!"

"No."

Aisha glares at Veer who's just enthusiastically agreed to the game, while Payal giggles, maybe drunk a bit herself as well, and dear lord, Aisha hopes she gets out of this soon.

The trio comes to stop at the ground floor's living area. It's stuffed with people, and guitars and a fireplace- a freaking actual fireplace burning brightly in the month of May- and loads of chatters. Most heads turn to acknowledge their arrival, cheering and thrusting their drinks or hands up in the air, the guitars being strummed more ardently now. And Aisha wishes she were at home, cosily snuggled in her bed, all alone.

"Join us, Payal!" one of the boys calls, gesturing at the empty bottle of Sprite lying in all its glory at the centre of the room.

"That's the plan anyway," Payal responds with a grin before flopping down at a spot, Aisha and Veer on either of her sides.

"You've got pretty eyes," a girl adjacent to Aisha mumbles, grinning at her with her eyes glazed with the daze of liquor.

"Thanks," Aisha manages to smile through her grimace- how she hates drunken people-Veer being an exception who is now debating whether the Sprite bottle is Mr Sprite or Miss Sprite. The boy is beyond cognizance, Aisha's sure about this.

"I've seen her somewhere before," the boy adjacent to the girl slurs, eyeing Aisha with deliberation. His eyes widen as he snaps his fingers, "you're the one from that Korean drama, aren't you?" he asks, smiling smugly.

And the guess makes Aisha's stomach drop, a sense of nausea filling her thoughts and chocking her throat. Pursing her lips, she looks away. Just a bunch of drunken kids, don't bother with them, she tells herself.

"Just spin the damned bottle, Veer!" Payal tells the boy, exasperated. Aisha's grateful that Payal didn't hear the boy, for she'd very plausibly be on the verge of a homicide.

"But I need to know whether it's a he or a she!" he argues back in his daze.

Something tells Aisha that this is going to be one hell of a long night.

_____________

The entire room is filled with chaotic cheering, laughter bouncing off the walls, the fireplace and the long-back burnt logs, the ashes, and reverberating ceaselessly in their ears as the guitars are strewn across with empty bottles and beverages and snacks littering the floor and couches, tainting the pristine living space.

And Aisha's bored.

The I-can-call-Satan-to-chat-and-pass-my-time-rather-than-be-here kinda bored. She's counted all the ornate little owls – which look terrifying on a closer look with their enormous eyes –that are placed at specific shelves here and there; she's inspected everybody's hair texture and hues, mentally calculating which hair is suitable for ironing; she's even counted the number of times Veer drunkenly jumbles up the gender of the bottle of Sprite, calling it mister one moment, and miss the very next.

And she's bored.

What's more to this is that she hasn't got a single chance to declare a truth or a dare for the bottle never –never– points her way. And maybe she's partially glad? I mean, who wants to dance to some peppy track or kiss some random boy –or girl, these people are unpredictable, especially Payal and Veer– in the name of completing a stupid dare? Aisha's only happy that she's been a silent spectator to the unravelling madness.

"I need to use the washroom." And Aisha can't take it anymore. No, her bladder's completely fine. What she can't bear any longer is this drunken craze when she's the only one who's completely sober among this lot.

"It's at the end of the corridor, love," Payal directs while flashing a smile at her best friend, not really noticing the morose expression dawning over Aisha because when is Payal going to cut the birthday cake anyway?

Muttering under her breath, Aisha strolls out of the living area, heading off towards the doorway, opposite the washroom. Swivelling past intoxicated, euphoric bodies, and dodging varied conversations, Aisha exhales a breath of relief when she stands at the desolate, cool porch. Closing her eyes, she places her hands over the wooden rails and closes her eyes, tuning out the deafening music and relishing the peace after so long.

It's all silent and serene, with the breeze encasing her like soothing chimes, tingling her skin and brushing her tresses back softly, whispering a pacifying enigma to her soul and the upbeat lyrics of 'Polaroid' piercing through the air and –wait. Polaroid? Vivek's ringtone.

Fluttering her eyes open, Aisha furrows her brows when the ringtone stops abruptly and someone receives the call.

"I don't wanna talk." Vivek's voice reaches Aisha from somewhere adjacent the porch, down the gardens. It's hard and stoic, lacking any warmth whatsoever.

"I don't even wanna be home now..." And this time, his voice is a mere whisper, nearly vanishing into the night. And it's a broken plea, one which makes Aisha clench her fists with worry.

"He really said that –?" Vivek pauses, listening to the person on the line, and Aisha can't help but strain her ears to overhear him. The boy sighs out with wounded frustration. "I...I'll be back in an hour..." he tells the person, his voice heaving with bereft. "Fine, I'll just shut up and listen, hasn't it always been that way?"

And Aisha stumbles her way back inside, merging into the crowds when she hears Vivek's steps crunching the twigs beneath his soles, approaching the front-porch after hanging up the call.

____________

Author's Note:-

Longest chapter of The Difference yet, I know. I hope it wasn't boring or extended?

Who else wants to know what's up with Vivek? Why doesn't he wanna be home, and everything? Only later updates would tell ;)

Stay happy and healthy!
Love,
Arhana <3