~ |Gaurav| ~ 

Being among India's top ten influencers had its cons. The biggest of them was these newer pests. Younger kids. More tech savvy. Growing at a pace faster than their brains could keep up with despite being embarrassingly unafraid to share their opinions. Or perhaps because they were unabashedly candid, the internet loved them. They had tapped into the algorithm of increasing reach by oversharing.

That was certainly true for this kid. "Omg I grew up watching you, such an honour!" was his way of initiating conversation, making me turn from dumping a generous helping of egg and tomato salad—God bless whoever decided this buffet, I really needed some protein—and look down at his half a foot long spiked hair, its bleached blond tips at level with my chin.

"Grew up? How old are you?"

"Seventeen, I'm actually among your first 10k subscribers, you composed a song and sang it when you reached that milestone. You also hearted my comment! Aap inspiration ho bhaiya, sahi mai."

The guitar thing was true. I really was into music in college. Dropped it as soon as it stopped being the primary attraction for women. The kid wasn't lying. He really had grown up watching my videos. Must've been eight when he subscribed. No wonder his bleached hair rivalled the surface of an overused Scotch-Brite, his parents clearly didn't pay attention.

God I'm getting old.

"Sahi hai bhai." Saying bhai was calculative. No way was I calling him beta. He had been gracious enough to not call me uncle. "Toh phir, kya padhai kar rahe ho? Boards hogaye?"

"Haan pichle mahine hi. Hiatus liya tha YouTube se, kal comeback video jayega. @DankDaksh hai channel." He ran his fingers through his stiff mane, straightening it further before grabbing a plate and reaching for the tofu salad. "Padhai ka utna socha nahi hai, agar DU mai nahi hua toh drop leke content pe focus karunga. Aapko peeche chodhna hai ek din." Tongue in cheek, the bastard grinned at his own jest.

I shouldn't have taken it too personally. Spotting Samar, I nodded at @DankDaksh and made a beeline towards the main course line behind the nearly empty paneer lababdar container, where my manager was standing with his plate half-full. He wasn't thrilled to see me.

"Was that Daksh?"

"Kya pata, naam nahi poocha maine."

Lying never worked with Samar. He clicked his tongue as he scraped the last two paneer pieces from the bottom and dumped it on his plate, its peach, cashew gravy touching his naan and turning it soggy. I looked away before I ruined my diet. It wasn't until we had taken our seats that Samar began to chastise me.

"You were rude to @DankDaksh? Kyu meri problems badhata hai yaar tu?"

"I wasn't rude, I made small talk."

"You walked away without taking a selfie. That's rude."

"Chutiya bolta hai mujhse aage jayega tu keh raha hai selfie loon uske saath."

"He's right." Samar chomped down on two paneer tikkas from his overloaded plate, before moving on to stab three mushrooms. Fucking vegetarians. "Pichle mahine he went from 30k subscribers to a 100k. Kid's numbers are going to rival my JEE rank soon. Did you even congratulate him?"

"No, I didn't know that." I leaned back, taking my time to swallow my tomatoes instead of longingly staring at Samar tearing his buttered naan. "Kis type ki videos banata hai woh yeh bhi nahi pata mujhe."

"Video game streaming. Fortnight mostly. And live commentary about other people. Other YouTubers," he added pointedly.

"And a 100k watch it?"

"People like spontaneity." Samar gulped his obscenely huge bite of naan-paneer as he ensured nobody was near our table, before lowering his voice. "It's actually something I wanted to discuss with you."

"Kya?"

"I think our engagement is down because our content is getting too...stiff."

"Stiff?"

"Everything's pre-recorded, pre-planned. You always look good. The lighting is perfect, most things you say are scripted. It's all curated to be as perfect as possible and people aren't exactly fond of perfection. Not from us anyway. Leave that shit to Bollywood, we're supposed to be relatable."

"I tried that remember? In my early days. Relatable sketches and spontaneous guitar sessions, and it took two years to reach 10k. Jabse tune rebranding ki aur consistency aayi tabse this skyrocketed." I had entered the scene pretty early, when social media and social media personalities were both new to India. At 18, dreaming of being a singer, this was the best avenue to start my showbiz career.

While music lost its charm soon enough, being an early bird helped me stay in longer, make more mistakes without getting cancelled, and experiment until I landed in front of Samar at my college fest. He'd seen my videos and wanted to collaborate but by being behind the scenes. He helped script and pre-record as many college advice, dating advice (I was a bit of a stud back in the day too) and just relatable "lists" for quick bite videos. Soon they moulded into full-fledged lifestyle videos with titles featuring words like "alpha mindset" and "unstoppable beast". That shit got me a comfortable 7 million subscribers in six years, endless brand deals, and a bargaining chip for getting celebrity interviews, though Samar was still working on that last one.

"Ek aur baar meri rebranding ko trust kar." He'd finally stopped chewing, turning to me fully. "Don't take this the wrong way but that content was getting stale even before Riya cheated and your nashedi chutaap went viral. I think, in a way, that drunken breakdown gave you more traction than all the videos you've made this year."

"I lost subscribers over it!"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "It got people talking across platforms. You'd created this picture perfect image of yourself and people loved seeing it puncture. The internet today likes vulnerability and spontaneity. Keep the conversation going, tap onto this traction. I know we decided ki tujhe unse adhik chilla ke unko chup karana hai but honestly, I'd say chillane de. Address this controversy in a live. And start doing more lives. You'll be awkward at first but people love it."

"So you're asking me to stray from brand and show them that I'm not always winning in life."

"No, I'm asking you to expand your brand. Your audience knows your opinion on how to dress like a boss and how to command a room but just...have a conversation with them. Expand your internet personality to include inane opinions on dumb topics. Give them an insight on the mundane aspects of your life. Jaise," Samar looked around, struck by inspiration. "Jaise abhi live ja, we're in a room full of public intellectuals, go live and include them in it like it's a fucking party. Talk about the buffet. Heck, go and compliment the chef on how awesome this paneer is! Show them how an alpha male actually commands the room."

Samar dragged his chair back, leaving his gravy-stained plate behind as he made his way to the desserts section. Watching him load three scoops of moong dal halwa while chatting up @DankDaksh didn't help my mood. I reached for my phone, going through drafts of reels that were scheduled to go up next week. They all had a pattern. 

Five tables away from me, Daksh guffawed as he put two whole blueberry biscuit like things in his mouth. Blue cream stained his white t-shirt, and he wiped it with the back of his hand, licking the frosting from it.

Spontaneity. Imperfection. Monkey-like youthful behaviour.

I clicked on Go-Live.

My chin looked huge. Holding the camera up, I looked down to see people joining. Ten. Fifteen. A smile appeared at my front-camera reflection when it reached fifty. More people were joining. The early birds were spamming questions.

@chad_lakshaya arey bhai live aaya!

@gaurav_pandita_fan_club camera upar karo nashedi lag rahe ho

@basedboy_memes ab konsi ladki se katwaya apna?

"Haan toh bhaiyo, kaise ho?" My words were strained, weak. I had no name for my following, had to sort that out with Samar. "Nahi yaar ek baar hi dil tootna kaafi tha."

@basedboy_memes aurat ka chakkar babu bhaiya! xD

My smile widened at that comment. The trolls didn't feel like trolls, just college kids messing around. "Based Boy baat toh aise kar raha hai as if he's ever had a girlfriend before."

A stream of laughing emojis. Okay this wasn't too hard.

@basedboy_memes touché

@heyitzkhushi nice suit!

"Thanks Khushi, just gave a speech, the video is live on YT. Aap logo ko dhanyawad bolna tha, bohot acha response aa raha hai." I fixed my hair on instinct. Didn't expect heart eyed emojis to flood the stream. "Acha toh abhi we're in Yatis New Delhi. The conference just ended, and this is a room full of public intellectuals enjoying some epic five-star buffet."

@Nirav_is_in_hell khana kaisa hai?

"Khana bete swarg ka amrit hai ekdum." Not that I had tasted anything except my now-abandoned egg salad, but with the way people were crowding around the empty container of paneer lababdar, and with the way Samar was on his second helping of moong dal halwa, it was not hard to ascertain that. "Which reminds me, let's pay our compliments to the chef. Rule number 744 in the gentleman's handbook," I stood up, maneuvering my phone to be in frame while still showing them a glimpse of the buffet. "Be gracious towards the service industry people. They make our life worth living."

I motioned Samar to come over and hold the phone, mouthing live. He abandoned his food and did exactly that, freeing my hands from the task.

A quick word with a waiter told me I was free to walk in the kitchen, the head chef was still inside. Usual patrons were not allowed to do that but influencer privilege meant different rules sometimes. Besides, Yatis Hotel could do with some good publicity given the recent scandals it was embroiled in.

I was still talking to the camera, catching a glimpse of the state of the art, shining kitchen, when the bang happened.

Metal on tile. A loud ting. A wok upturned on the ground, the famous paneer labadar spilling on the floor. Two chefs. 

One who'd been holding the wok, with a blanched face and orange-stained coat.

And another, a woman. Fuming, red, sweaty. A hot mess in the worst possible way.

I should've asked Samar to stop the stream. Should've. But watching her was addictive. I was gawking at a disaster, failing to tear my eyes away from a car crash.

While thick-framed round glasses were pushed up her head to form a makeshift hairband, wiry curls managed to escape, making an angry halo around her face. With every word she spat they cracked with electricity, alive of their own accord. "Maine kya bola tha? KYA BOLA THA?!"

The guy was on his knees, a weak attempt to salvage the situation. The paneer was inedible. She kicked the wok away and he watched it slide in the gravy across the kitchen. 

She didn't stop. I didn't interrupt.

Her voice was shrill yet it resonated across the metal cabinets as she continued shouting the poor man's face off, "DUNIYA KE SAARE CHUTIYE MERE HI SAR PAR TAPAKNE THE! Kya kar raha hai?! You're ruining your coat!"

He got up on shaky knees. "I'm sorry—"

"Shut up." She wasn't yelling anymore. Rubbing her eyes, she pulled her specs to her narrow, dark eyes, releasing some more curls. "Nikal idhar se, hogaya aaj ka tera. Get the fuck out."

And then she noticed me. She noticed Samar. She noticed the phone in his hand. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

~.~

a/n

Meet cute meet cute. I love writing meet cutes. She had to be a classic shrew during this meet cute. 

Do you feel bad for Nishant? Or Avanti? Or heck, even Gaurav?

I had end sems and then more hectic stuff so this update was delayed. Sorry about that. Soul crushing, teeth shattering Delhi winters didn't help either. Typed this out with freezing stiff fingers so I hope you liked it, though first person writing still remains tricky, I struggle with descriptions.