𓆩𓆪

Using a twisted piece of wire to tinker with the brass doorknob, Cabir gave a final nudge jamming into the locking mechanism and clicking the main door open. The break of dawn and its accompanying rays flooded into the balcony of the studio apartment, reflected from the floor, and basked on them, livening the entire area up.

Their group disappeared through the entrance and branched into different directions while Nawab came in as its last occupant and tactfully shut the door without a sound.

So this was where the bastard lived...

Signs of commonality reeked from its interiors with the drab cushions, mismatched furniture, and vitrified tiling, screaming how far Harshad was from the eliteness they were usually exposed to. And how could he even reap its rewards, if he was such a snake and turned tables as and when he pleased?

What had the Professor even seen in him to recruit him?

Cabir and Alia rummaged through cabinets, drawers, and shelves both in the kitchen area and living spaces. On the other hand, Mukti who was picking at sofa cushions threw them behind to a clueless Dhruv who ripped each of them apart to find their object of interest – that damned SD card.

Nawab begrudgingly headed towards an opening in the wall where the bed was placed and his movement was tracked by both Mukti and Dhruv, distracting them from the task at hand. Navya... he was dating Nandini's friend Navya while double-timing Mukti; not an ounce of loyalty was in the lizard's blood.

With unexpected force, he stripped the bedspread hauling it as if it was Harshad himself, hoping to unravel other dirty secrets through physical strength as he swung and paused in the process, suddenly breathing heavily.

On a bed of a similar size, he had abandoned a lady who trusted him with everything she had, so much so that had he gone ahead with her plan, he would have succeeded in the challenge he posed to his friends, and it subsequently would've ended like other flings of his and died a natural death – that was his zone of familiarity.

That weird longing ache for the presence of a woman was unchartered territory.

Although he had initially brushed off the palpitations as a result of skipping his usual drug the previous night, his surprisingly well-rested body was hinting towards a suggestion infinitely more dangerous. And with an irrevocable flash, he recognised something had shifted within him.

He firmly pressed his temples with a free hand, exhaling with controlled strain while the other fisted the sheet as tightly as possible, crumpling it in his grip. Oh dear, what the hell had he just gotten himself into?  

Interpreting his silence as something amusing, Mukti eagerly asked, "Mila kya?" She almost made up her mind to ditch her current task and go examine his findings herself.

"Nahi."

Mukti frowned and stood to her feet, devising another route before passing a look back at her distressed friend who seemed more ill than he did the previous day. "I'll have a look outside as well, but are you... okay? Are you feeling dizzy?"

"Yeah, I just... I need a moment," He plopped on the bed, leaning his head between his hands and deeply sighing.

The maternal instinct in Mukti suspected all was not okay, but she reluctantly nodded – rest assured, if something were to happen to him, one of the others in the vicinity would immediately be alerted – so she put her efforts into a more fruitful area: the front porch.

Scanning under the potted plant by the door and the mat outside his flat, she finally happened to look over at a tower of mailboxes. She eyed the floor as a thought struck her, and a moment later she approached it. It was fastened with a mini keylock.

Crossing the threshold of the house with one foot, she hollered, "Cabir, help!" and out came the man with his handy tools to pick the lock for her. Mukti collected a stack of envelopes and parcels from the chute, sifted through them, and felt the contents of each, tossing them into a discard pile on the ground beside her.     

Until one of them had a bubbly packet, the width of four of her fingers, concealed within.

"It's here!" She waved the white rectangle in the air, chucking the other ones back into the chute and flapping it shut.

"Are you sure?" Alia asked as she arrived at the door, studying her friend who was ruthlessly shredding someone else's mail to obtain the item. A tiny bubble-wrapped package slipped out of the sheath and fell into Mukti's palm. Seeing Dhruv looming in the distance just behind her, Alia suggested, "Look for a computer, let's plug it in and check."

"That won't be necessary," came a stern voice from the interiors of the apartment, and the package opened with a sharp tear. 

Nawab appeared from behind the two, his hands fisted in his pockets as he towered in the gap over the shoulders; while the SD card was examined with much curiosity by both Cabir and Mukti who were on their knees in the corridor of a substandard apartment, Alia regarded that her idea was indeed terrible because inputting the SD card into Harshad's laptop could mean exposing confidential information to an unauthorised device. Manik was clever to suggest otherwise.

He flicked his hand in a motion to pass it over and at the feel of the thin piece of plastic that uprooted his life, his eyes pricked. As he placed it at eye level, he found the sight of it revolting; the blood of an old man had been smeared all over it, not literally of course, but he had to consciously remind himself of that. Because actions... his actions had spoken louder. 

Above all, what a huge personal price Nawab had to pay for that tiny lifeless thing! It cost him all his fucking peace. How could he ever go back to living the way he used to, with no attachments or obligations to anyone?

Cabir wondered why the group had not moved an inch since discovering the poison with a potential to sentence their entire racket to death, and briskly clapped once for their attention. "We got it na, what are we waiting for? Let's go give this to the Professor and clean our hands off this mess."

"No Cabir," Mukti responded while flickering at Nawab, reeling in some of the betrayal herself. From the way he had approached her, she had misjudged him as an inexperienced player warming his toes into the business. She had refused his offer too on account of choosing her existing comforts instead of seeking otherworldly pleasures by his side. "He thought he could mess with us, usse aise hi jaane nahi de sakte." She spat, and Nawab smirked at the insinuation.

A lesson... that the lizard definitely deserved.

He turned back in, passing a lazy look around the house. "Mukti's right." He said, shoving his hands back into his pockets as he swung backwards, providing the others access back into the house. When the door shut behind Cabir, Nawab flicked his gold-plated lighter from his suit pocket. "Whatever you lay your eyes on... dum, daaru, gaanja... sab kuch loot lo," He commanded, placing a tube between his lips and striking the gold trigger, lighting a spark at its end. Drawing a long comforting puff, he blew into the air and basked in the following relief. "Kuch baaki nahi rehni chahiye,"

As if his wish was their command, they shuffled into different corners of the house, grabbing anything remotely valuable they could find. While Dhruv and Alia pocketed aged wines, stacks of cash, and bundles of drugs stealthily hidden in the most random places, Mukti disregarded valuable things of that sort and instead shoved a flower vase into his TV screen and exploded its glass shards.

Cabir did his part in the kitchen by murdering every piece of china the man must have dearly treasured for special guests. His Raghav would definitely not be one of them. With that, he swiped a stack of coordinated plates off their shelves, creating a rattle in the dining space.

The might with which Mukti bombed the 40-inch display had not appeased her, so she ran back into the kitchen, came with two sauce bottles from the fridge in each hand, and flung one at Nawab.

With wide understanding grins, together, they vandalised his couch and bed like petty teenagers seeking revenge through the playful act. 

Once the trio had caused enough destruction and the others looted as much as they could from the mediocre stash they found, they all retreated to the middle of the room in a circle for a breather. Their backs rested on each other while they admired their classy work of art.

"What are the odds though, like you fell sick on the same day that you saw Harshad chilling around in Kochi... that's some mad luck!" Mukti raked her fingers through her disheveled curls, drawing them to the shoulder that did not touch Nawab.

Dhruv who was seated right opposite her reclined on her as he nudged his best friend. "Yeah buddy, where did you even find him?"

Alia clicked her lips, "Forget all that, I'm just glad Manik's back with us."

"And we're one step ahead of him now." Cabir added, pleased at the sweet revenge.

That ought to show Harshad what happens when one messes with love.

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Now that revenge was super super satisfying to write because Harshad, Harshad, Harshad... tch tch tch tch! :P