Chapter 25

People adore a badge but do they ever think about the hiding needle that binds it to one's shirt?

Vee

4th May 2019, Saturday
13:58

The good, old Picasso Club. More like the good, old Club of the Damned.

"What's with the frown?" Shay asked as soon as I entered.

I touched my lips and found them pressed in a perfect line, no frowns. "What frown?" I mumbled and placed my bag next to hers.

"Okay, I get it. You're in a bad mood." She eyed me and continued to fix the statue.

I was taken aback from her words. To my surprise, I had a good night's sleep last night. No nightmares, no flashbacks, no drinks, no father. Maybe the last one should stay off the list. I wasn't even that lucky. My mood was perfectly fine, a little cheerful too. I turned and checked out my face in the glass of the window. I looked fine, neutral but relaxed.

"What are you doing?"

I dropped my hand from my mouth and shook my head at the wide-eyed Shay. "Nothing. What are you doing?" I walked up to the table. "Just throw the frame. We'll get another one."

She nodded but continued to work on it. I sighed. Incorrigible.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked.

She kept her head down, as if I wasn't audible. I didn't bother asking and walked to the door, looking for any one of those truants.

"They're upstairs," Shay replied.

I raised an eyebrow. "Upstairs? As in the other Art Room? Why?"

Again, with her head down, eyes focused on that worn out frame, she kept her mouth shut. I walked back to her and hovered over the frame that interested her so much. Her stained fingers trailed around the frame's edges. The almirah behind her was opened, another frame peeking out of it. Then, I realized what she was doing. Black frame, golden design. She picked up her brush and wrote a 5 on its edge, the lines curving in her style.

"That's incorrect," I said.

Pulled out of her spell, she looked up at me, half dazed, half embarrassed.

"The 5 should be plain, no calligraphy or extra curves," I said. "Just like normal."

"Is this not normal?" she asked.

Before I could explain it to her, she pulled a paper out of her skirt pocket. I could faintly make an outline of a frame but due to my direction, it made me feel dizzy. I leaned over the table and tilted my head to get a better look.

"See," she said and pointed at the 5 on the frame.

I shook my head. "Look, the formation of the lower part, it is a laterally opposite C. You're curving it a lot."

She compared the two and gave me a confused look. I took the brush from her hand and drew another on the other edge.

"Use another brush," she said, noticing the black colour getting on my hand.

I shrugged. My fingers had already been stained by the time she offered me another as I moved a little forward to draw the rest of the design.

"See," I said, after finishing. "That's how you do it."

She bent down and took a closer look, shutting the left eye, looking from the right. Then from the left, then again from right. It continued for a minute. "I see nothing."

I pointed at the 5 she drew.

"That curve?" she shrieked. "You're curving it a lot, Shay." She mimicked. "A lot? That's, like, a millimetre small. I can hardly see it from here. You think people will notice it from afar?"

I smiled at her outburst and placed the brush back. "I don't know about people but I will. And I never said 'a lot'. Besides, I can see it from here. Get your eyes checked."

"Yes, you did say 'a lot'. And my eyes are fine, thank you very much," she muttered.

I washed my hands at the basin and looked back at the almirah. Was she going to change them all to that design? Honestly, I was never a fan of it, the gold with black.

"What's this 5 for?" Shay asked.

I wiped my hands and sat opposite to her. "Something to do with Kiara." She paused and looked at me. Taking that as a sign to continue, I said, "I don't know much but it's something between those two. Ashiamma never told me."

"And Kiara?"

I shook my head. She would have told me had I asked, but I never did. "If it was something I was supposed to know, Ashiamma would have told me."

"I thought so," she murmured and traced the design. "It's too old for you to have any connection to it."

I frowned. I did not take Ashiamma for someone who'd use 5 as some hidden code with deep meaning. It was probably a joke between the two of them but now that Shay pointed it out, I couldn't help but conjure up various meanings for it. I would have understood a 4 for the four of us but 5?

"Thanks Shay." All those traunts stumbled back into the room. Their eyes darted to mine, a foot moved back and I caught a glimpse of the shining steel that they were trying to hide.

"What is that?" I spat.

Shay grabbed my hand but pulled back quickly. It was too late. I had the faint imprints of the colour on my palm.

"Sorry," she said. "I promised them food." I was about to speak but she beat me to it. "They did the work. You should check out the corridors. I'll change my name if their efforts don't speak."

I sat down back in the seat. She had a point there. I didn't see it myself but I vaguely remembered a teacher complimenting me in the class. Hardik wouldn't stop gushing about it either.

"Why were you all upstairs, then?" I asked.

"They can't eat here without getting caught," Shay answered on their behalf.

Once assured I was convinced, they stepped in and wandered in various directions to get their bags. I gave Shay a pointed look which she returned.

"They're working, aren't they?" she whispered. "Be satisfied, Mr. President."

I was getting annoyed by this President thing. I was better off being just a member whose sole purpose was to read the speeches the President handed over.

"Why don't you do it?" I asked Shay.

She eyed my badge and shook her head. "Admit it, things are easier to handle when they aren't tied to your back with a title. If some teacher comes to you right now and asks you to make an announcement because you're the Pres-"

"Okay, okay. I get your point. Please don't say that word," I said.

She pretended to zip her lips and pointed at my badge. I groaned but decided throwing it away would not be such a good idea.

"I need a page," someone announced.

I opened the drawer and took out a sheet of paper.

"Here," another one said and tore a page from a notebook. I narrowed my eyes at the notebook cover. He was standing near my bag, holding my notebook and doing giveaways as if it was his.

"Bloodle-"

I jumped out of my chair and snatched it from him. "I thought you were giving him a page. Who the hell told you you could read?"

He moved away from me and handed over the page. I checked my notebook. There wasn't anything written on the page except the two words.

"Go on, all of you. Are you planning on spending the night here among the bats?"

They scurried off. I placed the notebook back in my bag and carried it with me to my chair.

"Are you going to hold that bag in your grasp like there are monsters that threaten to snatch it from you?" Shay asked, keeping her head down.

"Focus on your work." I dismissed her words with a wave of hand.

"Yeah." She exhaled loudly. "I'll do that while you stare out of the window."

I scowled. "Unlike you, I finished my part before. What are you even doing? Wasting time. Brilliant, keep it up."

She did not bother to reply.

"When will you be done?" I asked.

She raised four fingers. I groaned. Two hours of Stay Back and she planned to spend her time here.

"You can leave if you want."

I scoffed and pointed at my badge. "President."

We sat quietly in peace. I decided to go through my books and finish my homework when she spoke again. "I hear a sixth standard kid read the word 'bloodless' from your notebook."

I looked at her, not knowing where this was going.

"What did you write, huh?"

I wanted to tell her to get lost but thought the better of it. "How to kill people without making a mess of blood."

"Why not make a mess?" she asked.

I smirked. "Because some people deserve special death. For instance, people who don't wear badges yet pretend to have one." She snickered. "Or people who're good at virtual killing, you know, the kind who post things about others."

She paused. I blinked and let out a rough breath, only realizing now what I had really said. My gaze stayed fixated on my bag.

"You want to know why I did it," Shay said. I looked up at her to see a small smile playing on her lips, not a mocking kind but a defeated smile.

My throat tightened and I cursed my tongue for speaking out those words. It had been a year and I should have gotten over it by now. A weak apology made its way out but I stopped at Ashiamma's thought. Shay played with her brush and waited for my answer. I did the only thing I was good at.

I left.

18:00

The dragon fell out of my hand. I groaned and picked it up, dropping the bottle in the process. It fell with a clink sound. A laugh bubbled out of my throat. Here I was trashing the warehouse, a scene she would not be so proud of. I placed the dragon next to me on the couch and picked up the bottle.

"What do you say?" I asked the dragon. It looked at me with a frown, the same as that of Shay.

I turned my head to the other side and still felt her gaze on me, a mixture of curiosity and fear. That was the first thing I noticed about her when we met - a troubled face trying to fit in. I was too caught up in practicing the speech and forcing words out of Ashiamma's mouth that I didn't notice Shay lingering behind like a shadow, a characteristic that I did not want people to define her by. As much as I hated to admit, Ashiamma was too lost to consider Shay more than that. I was hurt when her Instagram shook everything, devastated to see that stupid grin she had never worn before but a little relieved she was not a shadow. Ashiamma's tears begged me to keep Shay away from us. I didn't have to, she did it herself.

"Shay," I had said. She had snapped at me and walked away as if it was I who did it all. She ran away and I let her. Was I sorry? No. Did it hurt? Fucking yes. It burnt in my chest day and night, spawning hatred. Everyone thought I hated her for what she did. I hated her for blaming everyone else. Those silent comments, averted gazes, clenched jaw, loneliness...it was a slap in my face who decided to choose between the two.

The Shay I saw in the Police Station was our Shay, a little reserved but not a quiet girl. This time her face had nothing but curiosity. For a moment, it broke me down. I wanted to stop and pull her in a hug but her words flickered. Her smirk had turned me out. When there was no friendship left, why was I even searching for a needle to sew it together?

My eyelids drooped and I decided to tune everything out for a few minutes and simply sit here in peace with our dragon.

"Do you like it?"

I opened my eyes and saw Shay sitting next to me with a paper in her hand.

"What are you-"

"I didn't do it," she said. "I didn't make the dragon. I didn't even do that to Ash. But why should I explain it to you when you don't believe me anyway?"

I gulped and faced her. The dragon sat on the floor, it's tail on fire but it wasn't burning. The flame wasn't moving.

"Sometimes, some things are right behind you but you don't see their danger. You think they don't exist but they're just waiting," Shay said. She dropped the paper and picked up the dragon.

Her fingers wrapped around my hand that rose to stop her.

"He thinks she likes him," she said, staring at the dragon. "But she likes no one except herself."

A movement caught my eye. The drawing in the wall...the girl's hair moved slightly. I blinked my eyes and they went still again.

"Do you want to know who she is?" Shay whispered, her hands slithering around my neck. "I want to know."

The dragon rested in her lap, half of it in silent, immobile flames.

"I want to tell you, Vicky."

Her nails dug into her knees, blood stained, brown, sickening. She scooted over to me, one hand grabbing my face, the other covered in her own blood. She raised her blood covered finger and pointed at the painting.

"Di..Did she do it?" I asked.

Her fingers moved away from my face and I shivered. The dragon had been engulfed by flames but it still stood.

"She did it," Shay replied.

"You did it!" I flinched at the simultaneous voice of Ashiamma that rang in my ears.

"Vicky."

I felt something touch my feet.

I blinked at the dragon. It was no more on fire. The other person reached for it for I could.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Raj.

He glanced around the warehouse and kicked the bottle away from my reach."You must get home now. It's getting late. I've been waiting outside for you for an hour."

I stared out. The Sun was still hanging out in the sky.

"You don't have to wait for me," I mumbled. "I'll come myself."

The corners of his mouth tucked up. "How will I tell Mr. Singhania about your whereabouts?"

I narrowed my gaze as he picked up my bag.

"You can come by later," he said. "Just come home once. Madam called. Isn't that uniform irritating you?"

I looked down at my shirt and trousers. It wasn't, truthfully. The sleeves had been rolled up, shoes kicked aside. Raj unrolled the sleeves. There was a red spot on the cuff of the left side.

"What is it?" he asked. "Paint?"

I glanced at the drawing on the wall. It was just as I drew it, no movements.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked.

He frowned. "Were you asleep? I just came in a minute ago. You were just sitting with your eyes closed."

"Was I mumbling something?"

He shook his head. "But you looked a little uncomfortable. It must be the couch."

His words - must, should, will - it was strikingly similar to Papa's, no advice, no room for other opinions, just follow their words. I chose to address them than issues such as the stain on the couch which caught my eye just now.

A black stroke ran down its side, starting with a red and ending with a yellow circle. I touched it. Dry. The colour on my sleeve didn't match it.

"Must've got in school," I said. "Let's go."

"Hardik called, by the way," he replied and handed me his phone.

I eyed him and the phone. I never knew Hardik had his number. There was a message by him.

'This is what everyone was talking about. Your club did a great job, Mr. President.'

Below it was a link to the school's page. I clicked on it and raised an eyebrow in surprise. They had uploaded a picture of the top floor's corridors, the ones Shay had said they had worked on. On the wall, different paintings were hung and together formed the shape of a face. One couldn't tell whose unless the paintings were observed closely.

The black borders with 5.