■WATTPAD INDIA AWARDS 2019 WINNER■
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For the Delhi Tycoons' kids, life has always been too challenging, and it's no different for Arvika Deewan. It's not everyday that her divorced mother remarries another business man, and there...
"Those photographs?" I managed to utter. "Were yours?"
I was gaping at him, of course I was a bit surprised. He loved travelling, and his wanderlust was the only thing I knew about him.
"I don't want what Dad wants from us Vika, I just... I just can't do this anymore."
I wasn't foolish enough to advice him to go and talk about it with Dad, it didn't take a genius to know what would happen.
"And the worst part, you know Vika, like the really brutal part of it? He knows, he fucking knows about what I want, but he simple doesn't care!"
An octave higher, and a little shaky at the end. He was close to letting go, close to crying. I didn't do hugs, and I most probably didn't do emotions, but Arnav needed my support right now. It wasn't a race anymore. It was a struggle. Even if we weren't in it together, we could be there for each other.
Voluntarily, I hugged him, tightly. "There must be a way, Arnav. Kuchh na kuchh nikal ayega."
"That's the thing, Vika," he whispered, so softly that I almost missed it, "There is a way. And what scares me the most... is that I might just take it."
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"Her Dad is sponsoring the stay, seriously?"
"Girl, not just that. It's one of their newest conquered hotels, I heard."
"So, what now? That bitch gets the penthouse suite while we have to share with two other people?"
"Probably, or maybe we can befriend her for the time-being, you know what I mean?"
They giggled, and I drowned their voiced by flushing. It was a fool-proof plan, but they should have at least checked whether the walls had ears or not.
I stood inside for a moment, and heard another cubicle door open, and the giggles turning into tense whispers. Ishita must have had come out first.
"Hey Ishika," one of them said, "Is it true that Arvika Deewan's Dad is sponsoring the stay in Udaipur?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" She replied, obviously pissed off. "And before you actually try buttering her, at least get her best friend's name right, you buttheads!"
She stormed off, and I opened the door to my cubicle. "Ishita. Her name's Ishita," I addressed them, before running off after the person in question.
