EVERYTHING'S PERFECT!

4

RESTAURANT

A steward, 20's something, steps in, ready to deter the men from a probable fight.

STEWARD: Sir! Sir-sir! Is there an issue?

Bharat shoots a nasty glare.

BHARAT: Buzz off.

STEWARD: Sir, please, I must request you to either settle down or leave. The customers will get disturbed.

Bharat glares at him. He couldn't digest the nerve of that steward.

BHARAT: Who the hell do you think you're talking to?

The captain of the restaurant, dressed in a black suit, intervenes.

CAPTAIN: (with incredible respect) Dada, good evening.

Bharat doesn't take his murderous glower off the steward.

CAPTAIN: (very nervous) I'm very sorry. He's new here, that's why. Please forgive him. And let me take care of this. (To the steward, in a rebuking tone) Disperse. And be in my office. I want to talk to you. (Turning back to Bharat, very politely) Please come with me, I've arranged a private stall for you.

BHARAT: (getting angry) What "private stall"? Where's my table?

It's clear that the captain knows Bharat. He's trying hard not to look nervous.

CAPTAIN: The -- y-y-yoou-our usual table is occupied. But this one's better.

BHARAT: (carelessly) Clear them out then.

CAPTAIN: But ---

BHARAT: Or do you want me to do it?

CAPTAIN: No. No, dada.

BHARAT: You knew that I'd be here today. You were supposed to keep my table ready. So why wasn't it done?

CAPTAIN: I'm ... I'm sorry. It-it-it was unforeseen, in the last minute, and --

BHARAT: Enough. Don't waste my time and clear out that scum. Send the douche to your "private stall" or some shit like that.

CAPTAIN: Okay, okay dada.

BHARAT: Next time, don't come to me with such cock and bull stories. And don't give my table to every Tom, Dick and Harry. I'm paying you for that. No more warnings.

CAPTAIN: Yes dada, understood.

BHARAT: Get lost, then.

Bharat dismisses the captain with a careless wave of his hand. The captain scuttles away.

Aadi and Neha are stunned. Does Bharat own this restaurant too?

BHARAT: (winks at Aadi) I'll see you around kiddo, we need to talk.

He hangs around for a brief second, checks Neha out with a sick glance from head to toe, then, parts. On his way down the aisle, he gets curious glances from the other diners. He pays heed to no one.

One by one, diners start to recognize Aadi. A low murmur arises as they talk amongst themselves.

DINER 1: (whispering to his tablemate) Is that Aditya Vardhan?

DINER 2: I'm --- not sure. He looks so much like him.

DINER 3: He looks a little different. Bigger?

Aadi looks away from prying eyes. Fans and such pouncing on him at a moment like this would be the last thing on his list.

AADI: (tugs Neha in a hurry) Let's go.

The captain approaches their table again.

CAPTAIN: Sir, Mr Vardhan, we're extremely sorry for the inconvenience caused.

He begins to explain his plight, of how he can't refuse Bharat, but Aadi cuts him off.

AADI: It's alright. I understand. Just cancel our order.

CAPTAIN: We can parcel it for you, sir.

AADI: No, thank you.

CAPTAIN: It won't take long.

AADI: No, it's okay. Let it be. (To Neha) Come on.

He leads her out. Some customers hang around at the doorway. Aadi keeps his head low, avoids their gaze and shoulders past, tagging Neha along as he does.

IN THE CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Their journey back is quiet. Occasionally, Neha takes a quick look at Aadi, hoping that he's okay.

He doesn't look like it.  

***