Even as Manmeet thought all these, her hands still reached for the glass of vodka, downing it in one whole gulp. She wanted to tune out the annoying voice of the man beside her. He had still been pestering her even when she told him that she was not interested.
Like, wtf?
"Just give me a minute, Pretty angel."
She cursed underneath her breath before swiveling to face him, an impatient look flashing across her face.
"What is it?"
Gunjan had run off with her friends to god knows where, and her friends, as trashy as they come, decided to cancel and go to an Adele concert. Why this Adele being in India was such a huge deal was really above her. But who knew her best friends chose her over keeping her company?
It irritated her.
"Pretty..."
"Hey, you."
"Yes?" The man was excited that she decided to talk to him.
"Am I prettier than Adele?"
Confusion flashed across his features. What was an Adele?
Manmeet knew what he was thinking at a glance and felt like she was eating flies. Where were all the intelligent men? Her subconscious told her that even her question was pioneered by the loads of alcohol in her system. She raised another demerit for the guy. He had watched her drink like a fish without stopping. It was obvious what he was thinking.
It was time to go home. It seemed the person she came to see didn't come so why was she still here? Manmeet wobbled onto her feet and grabbed her bag, aiming for the exit. Thank goodness her driver was waiting in the car. She was sure that Gunjan could hitch a ride home.
As she tried standing, the guy held her hand.
"Rest easy.."
"Let me go."
Her voice was cold and firm, shocking him into releasing her. Manmeet Chatterjee was used to giving commands and this was obviously nothing.
"If you dare touch me again, I will throw you in jail for sexual harassment. Don't think I don't know what you are thinking."
Eyes had begun to gather in their direction given that she wasn't lowering her voice.
The man felt embarrassed at having his thoughts exposed before everyone and embarrassment readily gave way to anger and hatred for her in his heart.
"You bitch! In the end, you are just a shrew! Shut up for me!" he yelled, raising his hand to hit her.
Just because Manmeet was drunk didn't mean that she couldn't see his approaching hand. In her condition, she couldn't dodge it. She feebly raised her hands to guard, a certain helplessness filling her heart. Why did everyone else stand by and not help? Was it because she was a woman and he wasn't?
Someone's voice from a past memory resurfaced.
In the end, they are all stupid.
But the expected slap never came as she heard someone run over to hold her before she fell. Her ears picked up another person hitting the man who almost slapped her. And there was more yelling and buzzing in her ears. Still, the arm around her was firm, the body's owner with a familiar scent.
Cedarwood. Just like those she saw on her trip last year to Lebanon with Abhishek, her repulsive ex, the one she would kill than be friends with.
No. Manmeet mentally noted that being friends with your exes was not shameful.
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Shape of the Sun
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