We hit the roads and aimlessly drove around the empty roads of Mumbai with the volume of his car-radio turned all the way up. He owned an extremely soft and romantic playlist – which contradicted the jarringly loud playlist on my phone – but it was calming and beautiful; everything's makes you feel good when you're slightly tipsy. Everything, but a car that's racing at the speed of 120 kilometers per hour on the empty roads; it twisted my insides and made me feel extremely sick and suffocated because the speed forced my spinning world to spin quicker. With the cold air from the AC smashing my face and the high speed spinning my world, I was on the verge of throwing up and dirtying Darshan's car.

"Listen stop the car, I feel sick", I eventually blurted out the truth to Darshan, when I couldn't control how I felt. "It's probably because of the AC", Darshan – the Doctor, without an MBBS degree – diagnosed and lowered the AC's intensity. "The fuck, shut this down!", I muttered under my breath and turned off the radio in annoyance. "Hey!", Darshan exclaimed, with his eyes narrowed, and shot a look at me. Having Arijit Singh sing about peace and pain, when all I wanted to do was throw up, didn't go hand in hand at all! "Darshan, stop the car. I cannot stay in any longer", I said, rubbing the side of my neck, uncomfortably. "Maybe you need fresh air. I'll roll the window down for you", Darshan suggested, searching for a button, and that was exactly when my nerves snapped. "HOW HARD IS IT TO STOP THE DAMN CAR?", I questioned, completely pissed, and Darshan's head snapped in my direction. "Just stop the freaking car. I want to throw up. Where do I throw up? On your head?", I said, and it took him less than ten seconds to halt the car in the corner of the road. "You should have told me", Darshan whimpered, and I pushed the car-door open, without bothering to listen to him. I hopped out of the car, and stood a distance away from it, attempting to bring myself to throw up but I couldn't; it was that feeling of wanting to throw up, but being unable to do so and I hated that feeling to death! I walked back to the car, and slid into the passenger's seat, breathing deeply and calmly. "Is this one way of dramatizing and escalating a simple situation?", Darshan questioned, unbuckling his seatbelt and lazily sat back on the driver's seat. "I swear, I'll vomit on you if you talk too much", I said, jokingly, and he chuckled.

We coexisted in silence for a long while in his car, and stared at the empty path that opened before our tired eyes; shimmery stars on the canvas-like night sky, a necklace of bright lights on the road and warm air seeping inside the car, through the window that was rolled down – it was simply perfect. The tiredness, stress and feeling of sickness faded away, slowly, and it was one relaxing and natural detoxing process. "I don't mind spending Friday nights with you, if it's going to be this calming. I'd put anything at stake for this", I lightly said. "I know better ways to calm down in Mumbai; there are better places than that roadside food-stall and much better things to do than listening to the loud music which literally splits your head. Isn't Mr. Joshua enough, that you're looking for more reasons to have a headache?", Darshan reached out for the car-radio, and turned it on. "So, you admit that Mr. Joshua is a headache?", I tried to put the words into his mouth. "Can we not talk about him? I'm getting a headache", Darshan teased, and we shared a soft laugh. Darshan took a loud breath in, and slowly slid down on the driver's seat, as Arijit Singh's soothing voice began filling the car, again.

I turned my head in his direction to catch a glimpse of him; with his head thrown back and eyes kept shut, he listened to the songs, tapping the tip of his fingers against the steering wheel. I couldn't help but notice his long and curly lashes, and the messiness in his hair; he looked different that night, and it was the kind of different that effortlessly drew me towards him. Sitting still, he somehow managed to create chaos in me. I wasn't on my deathbed, nor was I struggling to survive, but midst the air of silence, the moments we shared together beautifully flashed before my eyes and Arijit Singh wasn't going any good; the softness in his voice and meaning in his romantic song easily encouraged me to dip my toes in the sea of romantic feelings for Darshan. I was far from calling it 'love', but what I felt for him was much more than simple feelings; my feelings did something to my heart, something beyond my own understanding. I dragged my eyes away from him, when my iPhone vibrated loudly, disturbing the whole romantic atmosphere that was created in the car...one-sidedly. It was a message from Nash on WhatsApp, which read, 'Dityaa? Are you on your way back home? Vaish said you haven't reached yet! Get out of your office if you're still working, before I come and complain tomorrow'. It was more of a threat than a message.

'Don't worry. I'm out with Darshan', I texted back the truth to her, and seconds later, she began typing a reply; long before she sent the message to me, a smile stretched on my lips for I was certain about what was about to come my way.

Nash- Oh la, la! Now that's something-something cooking between the two of you ;)

'Nothing of that sort; just a random weekend outing', I messaged her.

Nash- Right, Vaish never told me that The Darshan Raval takes random girls out.

'Oh God, Nash, Shut up!', I typed.

Nash- I don't have a thing towards him, but honestly, he's a nice guy!

'How do you know?', instantly, I messaged back in curiosity.

Nash- I met him twice with Vaish in his concerts. Extremely humble, polite and grounded. That's rare in a celeb!

'I second that', I smiled.

Nash- I need to go. Just make sure Darshan drops you home, or at the railway station at the least. Don't be stupid and walk on the roads. Please!

'Sure. Don't stress. He'll drop me home', I typed.

Nash- And if he doesn't drop you home...make sure you use protection...if you know what I mean. Stay safe, babe ;)

'DUDE, FUCK YOU. NASH, GO DIE, BITCH', I hastily typed in caps-lock and pressed Send. It was hard to hide the stupid smile that wanted to stretch from one continent to the next. Her soft giggles literally rang in my head and I could picture her playful stare!

♥

"Do you miss your old days, where you were Darshan Raval without the fame and success?", I shot an extremely random question at him and his eyelids flung open, but the calmness on his face was still intact. "Sometimes", Darshan vaguely answered, yet looked thoughtful. "Acha, listen – imagine, you're not The Darshan Raval. Just think of yourself as yet another human being, who runs behind a normal nine to five job", I explained. "You're the first human being who calls a nine-to-five job 'normal'. This is beyond my imagination!", Darshan joked. "Just imagine, yaar!", I stressed and he nodded in agreement. "If you were told to fulfill one of your unfulfilled wish, what would that wish be? It could be any wish; something childish, or stupid, or senseless or whatever! Assume that no matter how stupid your wish is, no one would judge you for it. What's that one wish?", I elaborated. "There are many...", Darshan exhaled and rubbed the side of his neck. "If you're going to be this boring and sincere towards life, you'll obviously miss the fun", I mumbled under my breath, but I was audible enough for him to hear. Darshan took a whole minute to think, and I sat back on the passenger's seat patiently, anticipating for his answer. One minute turned into two minutes, and two turned into three; still he didn't have an answer. "Now, please do not tell me that you do not have stupid or childish wishes!", I huffed, impatiently. "Woman, have some patience! If you ask me all of a sudden, where will the answer fall from? I need to think", Darshan snapped, and chewed his nail. "Next time, I'll ask a question in the evening, you take it back home and think of an answer all night and answer me in the morning", I blabbered, and he didn't bother to respond back. "Think of something we can pull off right now", I stated.

"You know those bubble-gums that come with a free tattoos?", Darshan prompted. "Who doesn't know that!", I dramatically said. "Can we buy two of those?", Darshan asked and I shot a weird stare at him; that was the Mother of all Childish wishes! "Hey, you said you won't judge!", Darshan defended himself. "Even a four year-old kid would judge you for this, Darshan", I said. "My dad never allowed me buy that bubble-gum, when I was a kid, alright; he believed that it was unhealthy", Darshan justified. "Wait, you never had bubble-gum all your life?!", my jaw-dropped open and touched the ground. "Of course, I did! But not those...those...", Darshan fumbled. "...those cheap ones. God, help these posh kids with no life!", I sighed, shaking my head to the sides. "Drive ahead, you'll find it in a small shop", I ordered and buckled my seatbelt. "I hope you know that in small shops, you pay with cash, not credit cards", I teased and Darshan shot a death stare at me. "Just letting you know...posh kid", I shrugged. "Call me names one more time and you'll face it", Darshan warned, tickling me and I literally curled up into a ball on the seat. "Drive, Darshan!", I ordered sternly and moved his hand away. "Am I your driver? Say it in a nicer way", Darshan showed attitude, but he was showing his attitude to the wrong person. "You're not doing me a favour, by any means, so there's no need for me to be nice to you. If you don't want to drive, stay here", I smirked and sat back on the seat, with my arms crossed. "Fuck. How do you manage to win with words all the time?!", Darshan spat in disdain, and drove away. "No one's born a winner. Practice makes man perfect and one day, you'll succeed; my blessings are with you, child", I said with pride and Darshan chuckled in his usual deep and husky voice. But that night, the sound of his laughter breathed life into the butterflies in my tummy.

♥

"Mine's a butterfly. Yuck. What's yours?", Darshan questioned, studying the free tattoo that came with his bubble-gum. "Spiderman!", I announced elatedly, as I unwrapped my bubble-gum. "But since it's your first bubble-gum of this kind, I'll be considerate and I'll let you have my Spiderman", I said and Darshan smiled. "Get me that water bottle", I ordered Darshan, and rolled up his sleeve, exposing his arm. "Honestly, I feel like a five year-old...and this feels good", Darshan admitted, as I held the tattoo against his skin. "All of this might look insane, but keeping in touch with the child in you is the only way to maintain sanity in life. Because through the eyes of a child, the world is simple and when you keep experiencing that, life becomes beautiful. Life becomes uncomplicated. What if you end up being broke one day? God forbid that from happening, but life is unpredictable, and if that happens, you can always walk into a small shop, buy a two rupee bubble-gum, stick up the tattoo and make that heart of yours happy!", I shrugged, dabbing a wet tissue against the tattoo. Slowly, I peeled the damp paper off the skin on his upper-arm. "Hi, Spiderman!", I exclaimed, touching the tattoo etched on his skin, and Darshan chuckled. "I owe you big-time because you lent me your Spiderman tattoo, right?", Darshan said, looking at the tattoo on his arm. I almost said, 'You don't owe anything to me. Just keep that smile on your face because you look beautiful with it', but I swallowed my words; even when my inner-voice ached to find a way out of my mind. "You owe me a ride back home...and a box of Biryani at work!", I said, instead.

We drove back home. But I was already at home; in the space where he existed, I think I found home...