Abhay buttoned his jacket as he walked into the grand hall for the gala. Orbs of lights were scattered across the high ceiling, with murals made with string lights across the walls.
When they’d seen this auditorium for this exhibition, he’d thought it looked too sterile but Siya said this was perfect. She was right. Under her vision, this room had transformed.
It was brimming with people mingling and talking amongst themselves. Their teeth shined just as much as the jewels they adorned. Some real, some fake, but all too bright.
He nodded at a few familiar faces as he made his way to his family, who were causing chaos near the bar.
‘Look who finally decided to show up,’ Swayam said as he slipped into their radius. ‘I thought maybe you ran away with Siya, and left the rest of us to fend for ourselves.’
‘We thought about it, but couldn’t trust you around this elite crowd so we had to come,’ he said, playfully ribbing him.
‘Then what, were you busy fixing your hair in the mirror? We’ve been waiting for an hour,’ Luv asked.
Abhay clapped a hand on his back and said, ‘I feel bad for everyone who had to tolerate you for that long.’
‘That’s us,’ Kashvi said, raising a hand.
‘You just got here!’ Luv pointed out.
‘Just a few minutes is too long to be around you,’ Kashvi taunted, and Swayam, who stood behind her, hid her laugh in her hair.
‘Ignore her,’ Meera said. ‘Luv rated her outfit six out of ten and now she’s pissed.’
‘What?’ Abhay laughed.
‘These two idiots,’ Raghav pointed at the chaotic duo of Swayam and Luv, ‘have been rating everyone’s outfit since we got here.’
‘Incorrect. I’ve been giving them scorecards,’ Luv argued.
‘Yeah, and bonus points for iconic jewellery,’ Swayam said, backing him up.
‘So, who’s winning?’ Abhay asked.
‘There’s a woman over there wearing an emerald choker the size of a tennis ball. She’s the only one who got nine out of ten,’ Meera answered.
‘Hey! I admire her. It takes guts to come to an event that is the talk of the town wearing something that looks like a guava,’ Luv said in defence of himself.
Their playful conversation continued, but his attention drifted across the room. Though nothing gave him relief, all he felt was the dull ache of waiting for someone he was starting to believe wouldn’t come.
Kashvi, who was standing next to him, leaned forward and asked, ‘Still no sign, huh?’
Reluctantly, Abhay shook his head.
‘She could still come,’ she offered.
His gaze drifted toward the entrance as more guests arrived, except her. ‘If she planned to, she would be here by now.’
Kashvi must have sensed he wasn’t ready to say more because she turned slightly to respond to something Meera said. Abhay noticed how Swayam watched Kashvi with a smile as she threw her head back and laughed.
Abhay shifted just enough to observe him without drawing attention. His gaze followed her with a flicker of tenderness that didn’t look like simple friendship. It was in the way he hovered closer when someone nearly bumped into her and in the way he made sure her drink was safe until she picked it up.
Was he aware of how possessive he seemed of her? Or maybe he did realise and just didn’t care to hide it anymore? Abhay smiled to himself, eager to see where this madness would lead to.
The room hushed as the emcee announced, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the exhibition will begin shortly so I request you to take your seats.’
Together as a group, they walked toward the elevated ramp stage at the centre of the auditorium. Chairs had been arranged in precise, symmetrical rows on either side of the stage. He opened the velvet barricade to their exclusive front row view.
His eyes trailed toward the front row where their names were printed on discreet white cards. He found his seat, second from the centre, bearing his name in calligraphed embossed silver. And next to it, untouched, sat the card marked Siya Kashyap. That chair was empty.
