Tricks for a Heart [mlm]

Chapter 4

"Sorry ... sorry, mic problem ... excuse me," I hear Hrithik say through the microphone, who is now on a stage, his attire shining bright from the rays of the chandelier in the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Allspice Cookery!"

The whole room breaks into applause. The former rugby athletes at the other table whistle and holler to Hrithik, who in return blushes and looks as if he's cueing the boys to stop when they're getting out of control. "So I'm sure all of you are hungry, right? Before we all go get our meals, I'd like to say that the house is serving the restaurant's specialty today, recipes passed down from my great-grandparents down to me, with a little twist of what I've learned from culinary school for the past years. I hope you'll enjoy ... and please, Instagram this as much as you can! We need free marketing!" The whole room laughs to that. "Now help yourselves!"

There are three buffet tables set at different locations of the restaurant, serving varieties of traditional Indian cuisine, ranging from chicken to fish, including chicken chettinad, butter chicken, and fish do pyaza. The vegetable-based dishes included bendi masala made with okras, along with vegetable raita, which contains chopped carrots, cucumbers, capsicums and tomatoes served as a salad in yogurt. The dishes are to complement the carb base of the meal, which consists of plain naan and aromatic biryani rice. The restaurant's staff open the lids of the large metal containers holding the food, and the spiced aroma in the room intensifies.

I let everyone move to the buffet table first, watching as long lines formed at each. The lines sometimes extend to our tables, and I figure I'll get my plate after everyone has taken theirs. Now there's only Samuel and I at our table, since Saiful has offered to take his meal for him. I don't try to start any conversation as Samuel too makes himself occupied with his phone, as if it's a signal to not socialize. I can't help realizing that he doesn't really look like he wants to be there.

"You okay?"

I jump and turn to see Shafiq standing in a line that already reached behind my seat. I stroke my chest. "You scared me, man."

"Why aren't you getting your food?" Shafiq asks.

"I'll go after—" I'm about to say when I'm interrupted by Minho loud cackles as he fools around with Kenny. The two of them are behind Shafiq, talking in such enthusiasm as if they haven't met for years. That isn't actually true, because I know some of the rugby boys still hang out together, and sometimes play rugby together for leisure during their free time.

"Dude, slow down!" Shafiq says to Minho, to which he oddly follows. "What were you saying?"

"I'll go afterwards and get the food once everyone's settled." I take a glance at Minho who is still jumpy. Minho is clearly all grown but seeing the childly manners makes it seem like time doesn't pass at all.

"He's dieting," Minho says, doing a pseudo-whisper to Shafiq's ear since he talks loud enough for me to hear.

"No, I'm not," I groan. "I don't want to line up."

"He's all macho now," Minho says to Shafiq again, the jeering tone increases up to at least half a notch, "having all that abang-abang beard. Gotta keep that whole package maintained."

"I—" I'm about to argue, but the line moves forward, and they're already out of reach. I'm obviously not dieting, and there's nothing about my body that needs to be "maintained." I'm clearly still humongous, probably more so in comparison to what they all remember from school. It feels improper for Luqman to have introduced himself after being reunited in such ways, especially with him having a lean physique like that, and referring to my protruded front and facial hair in that manner.

Maybe I should give him a piece of my mind. But I'm too lazy to get my ass up the chair.

I start to line up to the buffet table when Saiful and Ikhwan arrive, plates and glasses of drinks in their hands. I end up getting a few pieces of naan, with spiced chutney on the side, along with some butter chicken and the sirap limau drink, which is a red-coloured pandan-flavoured iced sweet drink donned with a touch of lime. I come to my seat grumpy, trying to improve my mood with food. Fuck you, Luqman. I take a bite and the light heat from the chutney quickly alleviates the prickly sparks of fire inside my chest.