R A M
That evening, when Vikram walked into my office, I was looking through a file, but instead of seeing the words on the page, I was seeing images of Juhi telling me what to do and when to do it for the rest of my life.
"It's Friday, Ram," he told me, taking my coat off the rack near my door and tossing it at me.
My thoughts shaken, I looked up from the coat that was on my lap. "You're right, Vikram. And it's evening."
"You have to come out with us today, man. Being engaged has made you boring," he teased.
I laughed, closing the file, putting it on my desk and getting up. "Really?"
"Really. I mean, ever since that day, you have not come out once. It's been about a month, Ram," Vikram said, "Come out and we'll have some drink and you can sip in solitude while the rest of us pick up girls."
"Sounds like a fun night," I said, sarcastically, slipping on my coat.
"Yeah!" Vikram hyped, clapping me on the shoulders as we walked out of my office.
"Where are we going?" I asked, stepping into the elevator.
"The rest of the guys are already at Irish, so let's just go there. We can get that VIP floor without all the random people sweating on us and have a good time," Vikram said.
I nodded in agreement.
Irish wasn't the kind of club we usually went to. We generally preferred a bar downtown, but Friday night meant that GETTO's, our favourite would be packed, so this would be a good option to keep out of the range of paparazzi. Vikram and I did occasionally drink with some important people who would rather be out of sight of the cameras.
It was only when I drove out of the basement parking – I occasionally drove myself for the fun of it – that I realized how late it had gotten. The sky was dark and the streets were packed with people trying to enjoy their Friday nights out.
I followed Vikram all the way up to the third floor of Irish, where the music wasn't as loud as it was everywhere else, the place wasn't as packed, and the bartender knew your name, not because of how frequently you visited, but because of the high quality of service.
"Mr. Kapoor," the bartender said as he saw me and Vikram, "The usual?"
"Scotch on the rocks," I told him, "I have to drive home."
"And for your Mr. Shergill?" he asked Vikram.
"The usual," he said, "And another round of whatever those guys are having."
Vikram pointed to our friends who sat in a corner.
"Put it on my tab," I told him and Vikram laughed.
"If this is your way of celebrating getting engaged, it's way subdued, man," he said, shaking his head and leading me over to the area where everyone else was sitting.
We slipped right into a conversation, especially when the drinks arrived and all the guys were getting hyped up on their booze. I slowly sipped my scotch, thinking about driving home and also not wanting to let my guard down and let slip to one of them that my whole engagement was a sham.
