˗ˏˋ ostentatious celebrations and drunken confessions 'ˎ˗

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The tick in Mahika's jaw was becoming more prominent with every ticking second.

She was sure that if there wasn't so much noise around her — the music with unnecessarily heavy bass, the screaming, the people talking too loud, you get the gist of it — the entire room could have heard how hard she was grinding her teeth in pure annoyance.

Now don't get her wrong, she was more than happy for her best friend for finding someone she loved enough to get married to. But she wished that weddings came without the extraneous package.

Mahika was clearly not a people's person.

Neither was she a party person.

Or... a wedding attire person, really.

Because the drawing string of her lehenga was currently digging into her skin hard enough to probably leave a thin, angry line under her navel. The darn thing had made her look pretty in the mirror for a total of twenty minutes before she had realized what a pain it was.

Right then, she wished she wasn't a person at all.

The dress was a dandelion shade of yellow with extremely intricate gold embroidery on it, and it made Mahika feel like she was supposed to step out of a chariot and have two people already holding out their arms to escort her into a ballroom. She might have fallen in love with how it looked on her, but she wasn't exactly the biggest fan of how heavy it felt on her body after a few hours into the wedding reception.

Taking a deep breath, she looked around the unnecessarily large but overwhelmingly full room again, the grimace on her face this time only slight as she took in the shockingly huge number of smiles around her, the decor that probably took a day, and a hundred people's worth of work to arrange but would definitely be thrown away the second all the guests left, and the giant, pretty, but very useless fountain in the middle that people were more likely to collide with than appreciate.

She had to resist the urge to raise her feet up on the chair so she could massage them. Unlike Cinderella, nothing about her dropping her heels was going to be accidental. If anything, she wanted to slide them off and chuck them into the very same fountain that she was waiting for people to collide into. Maybe that would make things a bit interesting.

Why is it like, right in the middle of the hall anyway?

Then again, there were a lot of questionable things that happened at Indian weddings that she had the misfortune of witnessing with her own eyes.

"Mahi!" A familiar, overjoyed voice announced, making her name sound like Mahiii, announcing the presence of Mahika's other best friend. The one that wasn't getting married. "You're here!"

She didn't flinch because she was used to him being a loud drunk, watching him (barely) make his way around her chair to stand in front of her without falling flat on his face somehow. Mahika was far from surprised when she saw him holding two flutes of champagne, one already half-empty. He probably spilled it on the way or drank it, and she had no idea which of the two she wanted to be true.

"Dhruv," she said, voice high-pitched and drawled to match his enthusiasm, but face more deadpan than ever. "You're drunk."

"Yeah!" he replied, swaying just a little bit but enough to alarm Mahika so that she held her hands out in front of herself and leaned back a little. Whenever he smiled too wide, his eyes looked like they were closed. It was endearing, really, but Mahika was worried he was going to spill the alcohol all over her. Or worse, topple over and take her with him. "You should be too! Why are you sitting here all by yourself while everyone else is having fun? I should be the one who's sad —"

"Ooh, I love this song! Let's go dance," she interrupted loudly before he could go any further, jumping out of her seat and quickly scanning the crowd to make sure no one heard him. She turned and shot him a glare before snatching one of the flutes out of his hand — the full one, of course — and downed it in one gulp before snatching the other one as well and doing the same. Lucky for them, a server passed by right then, and she shot him a sweet smile, placing both the empty glasses on his tray before thanking him in a rush.

Then she looked at Dhruv again and hissed, "You better watch what you're saying, Dhruv. I'm serious."

Blinking innocently, he asked, "What did I do?"

She resisted the urge to grab him by the collar and shove him against a wall to bring him back to his senses. Settling for a shoulder grab and giving it a good shake, she said, "Get yourself together." She looked around again, narrowing her eyes to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "Look. I know this is hard for you but this is supposed to be the biggest day of Naina's life. You can't do anything stupid."

"I didn't do anything stupid!"

"Really?" she hissed, shoving him lightly and leaning in to look him in the eye. "Getting drunk off your ass at your best friend's wedding isn't stupid?"

Before he could open his mouth and say more in reply, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the dance floor, nodding and smiling at everyone whose eyes she met.

"If I dance, I might throw up," he announced, and Mahika had to gather all her strength to not throw her head back and groan in annoyance.

"You know what? We're going up the stage to get our pictures clicked. You're going to act like you're completely sober. Then I'm going to drop you off at your room. Good?"

His steps came to a halt, almost making her stumble.

"I can't go up there. I can't see her right now."

His words were barely audible with all the noise around them, but Mahika could catch what he was saying from the movement of his lips. And if his wide, deer caught in the headlights eyes were any clue, Mahika could tell he was panicking.

She slid her hand down to his and gave his palm a squeeze, softening her expression.

Maybe in that moment, despite how sick she was of Dhruv pining after their best friend for years, she felt sorry for him. There he was, having to act like he was fine at the wedding of the girl who he had been in love with for longer than Mahika could even fathom.

Naina may have always been blind to the stars in his eyes every time he looked at her, but the rest of their friends never were.

"Dhruv," she called his name in a voice that was more gentle than it had ever been in his presence, searching his eyes. When the song switched to a lighter, more mellow beat, she gave his hand another little squeeze and said, "It's time to say goodbye."

All the way from there — to watching him look at Naina's glowing face with yearning that no one else except Mahika noticed when they finally got on stage, to watching him hug her with more love than ever, to finally pulling back to meet the eyes of the groom — everything was painful.

Mahika didn't miss the way Dhruv plastered a smile as genuine as he could manage in that moment when he hugged Akash, pulling back and giving him a mock threatening look. "You better take care of her," he said, and Mahika looked away.

On their way back to Dhruv's room, he had cried.

With the clicking of her heels and the clinking of her bangles, his little sniffles had echoed in the empty hallways of the hotel.

"I'm an idiot. Don't ever do what I did," were the words he had told Mahika before they had parted ways so she could return to the party, looking so sobered up that she wondered if he was ever drunk at all.

People talking to Mahika about love had always struck a chord within her. Which is probably why she had found herself downing some more champagne right as she had found herself surrounded by the rest of her friends the last conscious thought on her mind being:

Why does it matter how hard it sounds to love someone? It's not like I'm ever going to find out.

The rest of her actions, as well as her friends' had been clouded by the influence of alcohol. Dancing and screaming had followed. A few tears here and there. Aching feet. Then a throbbing ache in Mahika's head.

Mumbling an absentminded, "I'm going to use the bathroom", Mahika had found herself standing in front of the mirror, a few curls from her neatly-tied bun sticking to the sides of her face with sweat and what used to be a shade of scarlet on her lips now faded, upon closer inspection, into mere vermillion patches.

The rest of her makeup had stayed intact somehow, and even in that drunken state, she had appreciated the effort of Naina's stylist.

The state of her lipstick, or well, the lack of it, could probably be blamed on the glasses of champagne she had downed without a care in the world, anyway.

She doesn't know what had compelled her to actually let her mind wander off to the next thoughts that had hit her like a freight train; the alcohol, the sound of laughter from the hall, or flashes of Dhruv's face from every time he had told Mahika why he couldn't let Naina find out how he felt about her.

Sober Mahika would have found the thought absolutely ridiculous. But plastered Mahika was envious of him.

And a lot of other things.

Envious of the way Dhruv was freely allowed to love Naina, even though there wasn't much he could do about it. Envious of Naina for so easily finding someone she could marry, with no questions being raised about who, or who she could not love. Envious of everyone in the reception hall because they wouldn't have to go home and back to their daily lives with the weight of their own sexualities sitting heavy on their shoulders.

Just as the air around her had gotten suffocating enough for her to brace her hands on the sink, the door to the bathroom had burst open.

Mahika's head snapped up, dark eyes meeting her own in the mirror and widening only for a second before they went back to their usual state — probably even smaller for a fraction of a moment in a narrow-eyed expression — just as the door clicked shut.

Of course, she thought, averting her eyes even though the single glance at the person had been enough to sober her up a little. Just what I needed right now. A reminder of how very Not Straight I am.

Amoli Dixit looked nothing short of a dream in her dusky orange lehenga, usually wide, soft, innocent-looking eyes sharpened because of her cut crease liner. Silver earrings big enough to barely brush her exposed shoulders swished back and forth as she walked further in, the click of her heels echoed in the bathroom. And inside Mahika's head.

It had taken them three meetings for Mahika to come to the conclusion that maybe they just weren't supposed to be around each other.

The first one hadn't been that bad, to be fair. It was when Naina had introduced Akash to their friends two years before in a café near their university, and he had arrived with a bubbly, smiley girl in a sky blue salwar kameez by his side and introduced her as his sister.

Oh, my God, Mahika had thought with her eyes widening just for a second before she had quickly looked away and pretended that her heart wasn't suddenly beating faster inside her chest.

It would have been a fairly normal day if Mahika, in her too-big shirt, giant glasses and messy-bunned glory, hadn't felt judged by Amoli's goody-two-shoes self. She was used to it, of course. But something about the way Amoli had looked at her every once in a while in a side-eyed glance had made Mahika feel unsettled in her own skin.

The second time was when it had been established that Naina's soon to-be-husband's sister and Mahika weren't going to get along with each other anytime soon. The two of them were in the trial room with Naina at the traditional attire store to help her choose a dress for her engagement, and ended up liking two completely different looks on her.

Naina, frustrated and tired, had gone with neither of their choices.

Mahika didn't mind. Besides, she had been so busy with university and internships, she hadn't even been able to attend the engagement.

The third time, which is usually supposed to be the charm, was quite possibly the reason why Mahika was dead set on avoiding Amoli like the plague. Funnily enough, it had happened in the presence of Naina yet again. Times like those always made Mahika wonder how Naina had always had the patience to deal with her impatient self.

The three of them were supposed to finalize the wedding decor and the clothing themes for the ceremonies — which Mahika really couldn't care less about, if she was being completely honest — and of course, of course, Mahika and Amoli had ended up disagreeing on the flower arrangement.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" were, Mahika believes, the exact words directed at her that day. She had just raised an incredulous eyebrow in Amoli's direction as soon as the words had made their way into her ear and before she could let the simple 'Could you mind your business?' bounce off the tip of her tongue, Naina had sighed loudly beside her and said in an exasperated tone that she rarely ever used on anyone, "Amo... Mahi singlehandedly manages every event in our Uni. I think she's doing just fine."

Mahika had been able to avoid meeting Amoli since then, because judgmental people were not her type. Even the ones with honey-like voices and bell-like giggles.

"Didn't peg you as a lightweight."

Mahika resisted the urge to close her eyes and let past an annoyed whistle through her teeth, simply settling with pushing herself off the sink and pointedly ignoring the rose tucked behind Amoli's ear as she washed her hands.

"Mind your business, please," Mahika replied, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. She was not going to fight with Amoli while her brother got married to Mahika's best friend a room away. She was not going to do that. "I'm aware that you don't like me, but if there's any day we're supposed to be civil around each other, it's today."

She expected a snarky reply, but she was stunned into silence for a few seconds when Amoli spun around and asked in a disbelieving tone, "I don't like you?" Mahika's eyes brushed over her features, and it took her a total of three seconds to come to the conclusion that Amoli wasn't exactly sober either. She couldn't tell if her cheeks were flaming red because of the alcohol, or the visible anger in her eyes. But the slight slur in her words told Mahika more than she needed to know.

"You're the one who has been pointedly ignoring my presence since day one," she snapped, making Mahika blink in surprise. "Don't try and turn this around on me."

Had Mahika really been doing that? Maybe. Was it intentional? Absolutely not.

"Are you seriously trying to pick a fight with me over this?" Mahika asked, a dubious sounding laugh bubbling out of her throat. "Why does it even matter?"

Why did this entire situation seem like it had gone from zero to hundred in mere seconds?

Why couldn't they just ignore each other's existence when it was clear that neither of them could be in the five mile vicinity of the other without going insane?

Mahika waited for her words to be countered. For the familiar, stubborn clench to appear on Amoli's jaw. But it never came. Instead, she looked away and crossed her arms across her chest, mumbling in a voice that probably wouldn't have been audible if they weren't in the bathroom, "It matters to me."

Baffled and at a loss for words, Mahika threw her hands in the air. "Don't you hate me or something? Just —"

"When did I ever say that?" Amoli cried, raising her hand with her phone in it and for a second, Mahika was afraid she was going to throw it at the wall. Or maybe at me. She let her hand drop back by her side, seemingly fumbling with her words again.

Mahika stared at her silently for a few seconds, only growing more frustrated when Amoli didn't say anything.

"Look," she started, "You didn't exactly have to say it out loud." When Amoli opened her mouth, Mahika raised a hand in her direction to stop her. "But. We're probably barely going to see each other after this. So it doesn't —"

"You always treat me like a child."

" — excuse me?"

"I said," Amoli let out through gritted teeth, making her way over to stand in front of Mahika and looking up at her with her lips pulled down. "You. Always. Treat. Me. Like. A. Child." The frustration on her face grew with each enunciated word, as did the confusion on Mahika's face. "All the way from when we met. You wouldn't even look at me! And every time I spoke, you — you rolled your eyes or... or something. There was always something. Like you were looking down on me or —"

"You're kidding me, right?"

Amoli scoffed. "Oh, I'm not."

"Okay, first of all?" Mahika said, voice getting dangerously low as she took a step closer to the shorter girl. She was mad. "Tone the arrogance down a notch if you're going to have a conversation with me. And second of all, you're the one who looked at me like I was weird. Right off the bat. You would talk to everyone normally but me. Picked a fight with me every chance you'd get. And now you're going to stand here in front of me while I'm trying to mind my business and argue with me about how you haven't hated me for the past two years for no reason at all?"

Mahika couldn't believe they were having a whole argument in the bathroom of a hotel. She was drunk. Upset. And Frustrated. God, she was frustrated. Because the only time she had looked at a girl and seriously thought, Oh, my God, she's so cute, the said girl had turned out to be — quite frankly — a stuck up prude.

They glared at each other in silence for who knows how long, until something happened that threw their usual dynamic right off of its axis.

Amoli's eyes watered, and she quickly pushed past Mahika to make her way to the door.

Mahika was quick, though, and her hand shot out to take hold of Amoli's wrist before she could leave.

"Let go of me," Amoli hissed, voice cracking at the end. Mahika had loosened her hold immediately, but she didn't let go.

"Not until you explain what's going on here, Amoli. What the hell is up with you?"

Amoli twisted her hand out of Mahika's hold, face tipped back and her glare indignant. "You're stupid. And oblivious and frustrating. Why do you always act like you know everything? I didn't look at you like you were weird. What is wrong with you?" she spat, taking a step back just as the first drop of tear slid down her cheek, lower lip trembling. "I thought you were pretty."

Mahika's mind went blank.

"Yeah, I might have been a bit awkward with you at first but it was because I didn't know what to do about my stupid fucking crush. You're the one who assumed it was hatred."

Her voice was shaking now, tears evident in her tone. "Whenever I was around you, it sounded like you were dealing with some obnoxious child. You did that just now, too! When I came in." Mahika had absentmindedly reached out to steady Amoli when she had taken another step back, only to have her hands shoved away. "You know what? You're absolutely right. We're probably not even going to see each other again. Good. Because —"

Mahika couldn't wait for her to finish her sentence. In her leftover drunken stupor, all that she could completely make sense of were the words 'Stupid Fucking Crush'. And before she realized, she was reaching out again, taking hold of Amoli's small, trembling hand into her own.

And then she pulled her into a hug.

Amidst the white noise in Mahika's head, she somehow managed to think the words, Oh, God, we're both idiots.

Amoli hadn't pulled away. Instead, because she was a good head shorter than Mahika, she had pressed her head right under Mahika's shoulder and mumbled among her sniffles, a slurred, "You're the worst." Then said it again. And again. Every time, her voice had grown weaker. "I don't want your pity—"

"I'm not the only one who was oblivious, you fool," Mahika muttered, cheeks flaming just a little bit as she realized that they were the perfect height for Amoli to tuck her head under Mahika's chin.

Amoli pulled back to look at Mahika's face, and Mahika's expression softened when she saw the traces of tears still on her cheeks, big, dark brown eyes somehow wider than ever. Albeit a little hesitantly, Mahika reached out to caress a trail of tear away from Amoli's cheekbone, letting her touch linger when she didn't pull away.

"I —" She blinked, finally looking as drunk as she probably had been this whole time, finishing her very eloquent sentence with a squeak of, "Sorry?"

Mahika hadn't missed the way Amoli's eyes had flickered to her lips for a split second, unintentionally returning the gesture before they both grew silent, the sound of their low breaths echoing in the bathroom.

They were both scared, Mahika realized. And they had every reason to be. Her own arm, that had unhurriedly but eventually circled its way around Amoli's bare waist, was trembling.

Their lips were a hair's breadth apart when Mahika was the most in her senses in comparison to the rest of the night, aware that whether or not she decided to take a step back right now, this moment was going to change her life forever.

Dhruv's don't ever do what I did echoed in Mahika's head the same second that Amoli's eyes fluttered close, the silver glitter on her eyelids distracting Mahika for a second.

She had no idea if it was the alcohol, or the knocking reminder at the back of her head that this could be the last time they ever met. And she had no idea if she was the one who had closed the last, infinitesimal distance left between them.

But right there, in the bathroom of the hotel her best friend was getting married to the brother of the girl in Mahika's arms, she had felt another pair of lips on her own for the very first time in her life.

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a/n

this looks like it went from 0-100 real quick but the show has Just Started <3

i have A Lot in store for this story, but it's not going to be very long. so i'm aiming to finish it by mid november :)

thank you for reading!