Riya

Angie lived with three other girls in a 3-bedroom apartment in a posh area of the city. But today's party was not at her place. It was her roommate's friend's bungalow, which the friend generously shared for the party. I had no clue why this party was happening, but a small part of me suspected it had something to do with Dhruv.

She was stuck in a weird situationship, I guess. Or maybe it was more because I wasn't really aware of the things going on in Dhruv's life, and I had yet to get the courage to bring this topic in front of Angie and demand answers.

I stood in front of the Bungalow in Siya's red spaghetti strap dress with a thigh-high slit, looking at the different bikes and cars parked around the house.

"Are you going in or should I come with you?" Sia asked, rolling her eyes at my gawking. Sia and Ruhi came to drop me, but they were yet to leave.

"Yeah, I'm going. I'll call you." I said, resisting the urge to tell them to stay. It wasn't the first party I attended, and it wasn't going to be the last. Angie was going to drag me to different parties, and I was going to let her.

The word party originated from the Latin partire, meaning "to divide or share." It entered English in the late 13th century through Old French (partie), initially meaning "a part, portion, or division. So, a party, in its essence, was about sharing or dividing experiences. And according to people, experiences were good.

That's the excuse I gave myself for being dragged around by Angie. But, despite attending several ones, I didn't see the charm of it.

My mood had not drastically changed, but a shower and bickering with Sia and Ruhi about the dress helped me calm down a bit. But still, the bitter taste of betrayal clung to my throat.

Sia and Ruhi were going to shop around and then come back to pick me up. The arrangement suited me the best. I rang the bell of the house, and a girl wearing a hot pink dress opened the door. She eyed me up and down as her brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm Riya." Her eyes brightened up at the intro.

"Heyyy, Angie told me about you. Let's get you inside." She hurriedly ushered me inside.

The moment I stepped through the heavy wooden doors, the smell hit me. A weird mix of sweat, perfume, and something earthy and sharp that I recognized instantly. Weed. It clung to the air, mingling with the faint sweetness of spilled drinks and the tang of something citrusy. Probably someone's cologne.

After being an attendee of these parties a few times, it was easier to recognize the smell of all of it.

"Hey, Kat!" Someone shouted, and the girl in the hot pink ran back to her group. So, she was Angie's roommate. Kat.

The living room was massive, its high ceilings and crystal chandeliers giving the party an almost theatrical feel. Plush white couches lined the walls, but no one was sitting. A crowd swayed and danced in the middle of the room, paper cups in hand. A haze of smoke hovered near the ceiling, tinted blue and green by the lights that flickered over everything.

The kitchen was worse, a dumping ground of half-empty bottles, sticky countertops, and someone pouring vodka straight from the bottle into a blender filled with god-knows-what. Laughter and shouts erupted as the concoction splattered everywhere.

Awesome.

I had no strength to even peek outside, where god knows what was happening. I had my fair share of accidentally seeing something that I shouldn't have, and let me tell you, it was not fun seeing naked people.

It was the kind of party where everything felt expensive and excessive. The crystal glasses, the plush rugs, even the careless way people spilled drinks on the pristine floor. It all screamed wealth, privilege, and the reckless abandon of people who didn't have to think about consequences.

Amazing. Now, I was alone in this chaos, and I couldn't even find Angie. I pulled my phone outside from the red clutch that Sia gave me. She had made me dawn red from head to toe. Open hair, red lipstick, a red dress, a red clutch, and the only thing not red were my black heels.

The phone kept ringing, and she didn't pick it up. So, if she wasn't here and I couldn't find her, it was acceptable to go back home, right?

I saw some girls who frequented our cafe, and relief spread through me after seeing some familiar faces. I started walking over to them to ask the whereabouts of my lost friend when I felt it. Eyes.

I looked to the right to see Abhay leaning on the makeshift counter they had made in the corner of the hall with a cup in his hand in a black t-shirt and jeans. My gaze locked with his as his eyes trailed over my body. I clenched my jaw at his audacity.

Ignoring his gaze, I continued my way to the group of girls.

"Oh hi!" Neha squealed when she saw me. Her voice was drowned by the loud music that echoed through the walls.

"Hey, have you seen Angie?" I shouted so she could hear me.

"I did see her going upstairs." She shouted in my ears.

"Thanks!"

I made my way towards the stairways, climbing each step carefully to not trip myself in the dress. The upper floor was dark, and there seemed to be no end of it. Also, there wasn't anyone here. What was she doing here? I tried calling her again. She didn't pick up.

I took a deep breath thinking where to go as the floor vibrated below my feet. The sound of footsteps made me turn, and I came face to face with the devil himself.

The air around us turned warmer.

Abhay stood in front of me as he drank the last of whatever stuff was there in his cup, crushed it, and threw it downstairs.

Sir didn't know the concept of a dustbin. How cute!

His eyes trailed me up and down again, and a hot flush spread through me. That pissed me off more.

Here he was standing, after putting my world on fire, calling me names, and turning my brother against me. How dare he?

"Who are you looking for?" He asked, his voice all husky.

"None of your business," I replied, turning my back to him.

"If you're looking for Dhruv-" He started.

"I don't fucking care where he is. Nor I'm asking. So mind your own business, Mr. Raichand." I gritted out.

"Ah! Little Miss Saviour is in the mood to curse today." He laughed but his eyes held a sharpness as he approached me. "I would advise you to not look for your friend either. I don't think you'll like whatever you'll see."

I gritted my teeth out. A feeling of betrayal spread through me. But Angie didn't know I fought with Dhruv. She could do whatever she wanted. Still, I couldn't stop the bitterness from spreading in my mouth.

"Riya Sharma, making a blooming clay flower, waiting to grow out of her shell because her life revolves around other people and she can not make friends to save her life. Can not speak up to save her life and chains herself into some twisted savior complex to feel better."

His words kept repeating in my mind.

"I don't need your advice," I snapped, stepping back, though the hallway felt too narrow, too charged with his presence. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

Who did he think he was?

Abhay smirked, the tilt of his head making my blood boil. "Of course not," he said, his voice infuriatingly calm. "Why would Riya Sharma, self-proclaimed savior of the world, ever listen to reason?"

"Oh, spare me the lecture," I shot back, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. "Since when do you care about reason? Last I checked, all you cared about was making a mess of people's lives and walking away like nothing happened."

His smirk faltered for a second. "Careful," he said, his voice low and warning. "You might want to think twice before opening your mouth again."

"Why?" I snapped, stepping closer, refusing to back down. I have had enough. Enough of his taunts. He was not the only one who could cut with words. "Because I might hurt your feelings? Newsflash, Abhay, people like you don't have feelings. You just twist everyone else's until they don't know which way is up."

He took a deliberate step toward me. "You think you know me?" he said, his voice soft but edged with steel. "You don't. You've decided I'm the villain because it's easier than admitting you've lost control of everything you thought you had."

"Oh, don't you dare," I hissed, anger flaring in my chest. "Don't you dare try to turn this around on me? You're the one who came into my life and ruined everything.

"Your brother made his own choices," Abhay said coldly. "But of course, you can't see that, can you? Because Riya Sharma has to be the hero of every story. She has to fix everyone, even when no one asks her to."

His words stung. "And you think you're some great judge of character? You, who runs away from his own family?"

The words hung in the air like a slap.

For a moment, everything stilled, only the heavy boosted bass of the song vibrating around us. His smirk disappeared entirely, and the struck expression appeared for a second but was replaced by something darker another second.

"What did you just say?" he asked quietly, but the threat in his tone was unmistakable.

"You heard me," I said, my voice shaking slightly but still defiant. "It's funny, isn't it? How someone who couldn't even handle his own family feels entitled to ruin someone else's."

His jaw tightened, the muscles in his face ticking as his gaze bore into mine. "You don't know a damn thing about my family."

"I know enough," I said, my bitterness spilling over. "I know your father's gone. I know your stepmother tried, and you shoved her away because God forbid anyone actually cares about you. And I know you're dragging Dhruv down the same damn path." I was heaving as if I had run a marathon, trying to control my shaky breath.

Even in my rage, even in my fury, I couldn't bring up his brother. The softness on his face when he mentioned his brother came to my mind. Right now, he held an expression that was a stark contrast to that softness.

"Shut up," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

But I didn't. I couldn't stop. Not today. "Does it make you feel better, Abhay? To take someone like Dhruv, someone who actually has people who care about him and make him just like you? Alone. Miserable. A disaster. Huh? A disaster who hides...parts of his life like a...damn coward, and then walks around like he's some king."

In an instant, he closed the gap between us, his face inches from mine, his voice a sharp whisper. "You think you've got me all figured out, don't you? But let me tell you something, Riya. Your brother isn't with me because I dragged him anywhere, but because he couldn't stand being around someone like you. Smothering. Judging. Always so goddamn sure you're right."

I swallowed hard, his words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. "At least I care," I shouted, my voice trembling with anger. "Which is more than I can say for you."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he might actually shout. Instead, his voice dropped even lower, colder. "You don't care, Riya. You just want control. And when you can't have it, you lash out at everyone else and pretend you're the victim."

"Get out of my way," I said, my voice sharp and brittle, trying to shove past him.

But he didn't move. Instead, his hands grabbed mine, pulling me closer, and I collided with his chest, hard. and I froze.

I stopped breathing.

Too close. Too close.

My heartbeat echoed in my ears so loud for a moment I feared he could hear it. I wanted to pull away. Flee. But I couldn't.

His voice stopped me in my tracks. "You want to go upstairs so badly? Go ahead. But don't come blaming me when you find out your perfect little world isn't so perfect after all. Because that would piss me off, and you don't want that."

My skin burned under his words, but I raised my head in defiance to show his proximity didn't affect me. "You don't scare me, Abhay."

"No?" he asked, his lips curling into a bitter smile. He brought his face closer to mine and whispered, "Then why are you trembling?"

I couldn't breathe, my lungs screamed for air, and I parted my lips slightly to take in a desperate breath. His eyes fell on my lips and my body ignited.

It felt like a physical jolt. I clenched my jaw to stop them from trembling.

I glared at him, tears burning at the back of my eyes, a mix of frustration and something else. "Go to hell." I tried removing his hands from mine.

He stepped back, his expression unreadable as he gestured toward the hallway. "After you."

Instead, I turned and stormed downstairs, my heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the music thumping below my feet. His words echoed in my mind, each one hitting its mark. I felt burned where he held me. I looked at my hands to see no mark there. But It felt as if his handprints were tattooed there.

My mind was too fuzzy to even make sense of anything.

Smothering. Judging. Always so goddamn sure you're right.

Why does he get to do this to me? Why do I let him?

I stopped for a moment, gripping the edge of the banister to steady myself. My eyes flicked to the front door. I could leave. I should've left. But something held me there, something I couldn't name, something that made my stomach churn.

Against my better judgment, I glanced back.

And there he was.

Abhay stood at the top of the stairs, leaning casually against the railing as if he didn't have a care in the world. His dark eyes locked onto mine, unreadable yet sharp enough to cut through the haze in my mind.

I hated that he looked so calm when I felt like I was falling apart.

His lips curved into a faint smirk, and something in my chest tightened. It wasn't the usual smugness I'd come to expect from him. This smirk felt heavier, darker like he knew exactly how to twist the knife he'd already plunged into my side.

I knew he did. He had a manipulative streak. I was well aware of that. He had the power to make things seem under your control, but then turn it all into a chaos with flick of his hand. I had seen it happening around, and somehow, this time, I was at the burning end of it.

Heat flared in my face, anger and something else I refused to name bubbling to the surface. I turned sharply, letting my heels echo against the marble as I strode toward the front door.

I was going to let him have his victory. Let him think he'd gotten under my skin.

Because he hadn't. Not really.

Never. I chanted in my mind as I felt the warmth of his body clung to me, seeping into my bones.

----

The tension is boiling over and the walls are slowly crumbling.

Do vote and share your thoughts<3