Will you pay for these or should I take them into the market?
60 seconds to decide
Samar clicked download. It loaded, and his eyes widened.
UNKNOWN
Yes?
He toggled the silent button on his mobile and played the video. Atharva kissing Iram. In the backyard of her fucking house behind this party?! Samar glanced around, panning across the number of journalists, reporters, media heads present.
Was he even serious about this election anymore?
Samar clicked on the sender’s details. He could decode and find the guy. Buy time, buy the photos, crush him. He could do so much.
Or.
Damage control for something like this would be to send her as far away from here as possible.
He exited the app and locked his mobile. And waited for the minute to pass.
————————————————————
The night was long. The meetings longer.
Samar sat through the first few where Amaal was screaming the room down and Atharva was trying his best to stop the publications, Qureshi already in damage control mode as he began accepting calls from their partners across party lines. Qureshi announced that the best bet would be to keep Iram out of the public and media glare until the election ended. To keep her out of their circuit altogether.Fucking finally.
Samar quietly exited the room, not about to support him and enrage Atharva even more. Atharva needed a calm head and no bias as he made this decision.
For 3.30 am in the morning, the hall was lit up like a junkie. Everything outside was dulled. Dark. Quiet.
He stepped out of the big house and walked down the verandah. Samar sat down on the top step and pulled out his box of cigarettes. He lit one up, and let out a smoke of relief. After days, weeks, months, his mind finally returned to its status quo. No fears. No panic. No thoughts. Not good ones, not bad ones.
Whatever was in front of him after this, he could handle it.
He would.
As long as the trigger of his life’s worst moment did not amble here. As long as it did not become a part of Atharva’s life. His life. Their life.
Iram Haider deserved a safe life, but a safe life away from them.
Samar finished the cigarette and lit another one, puffing up and holding it out between his fingers. His mind slowly quietened. Static, but the best kind of static.
No thought.
Empty mind.
He closed his eyes.
What a relief.
“You are smoking.”
His eyes popped open. How had he not smelled her? Or heard her?
“What the fuck is wrong with you people today?!” Amaal yelled into his quiet static. He turned his head, eyeing her. She looked like she would break into parts and fly off. His hand instantly went to clamp over the only part of her it could reach — her ankle. She startled. He took his hand off — “Sorry.”
“What are you doing?”
