"What's with the sound of music in the background? Are you in a club?" Zoya said, sounding shocked.
"Yes, my friends dragged me here," he defended.
Abir walked towards the bathroom in search of a little silent corner. The bathroom did not have many people.
Ashley noticed a guy approaching the men's restroom with a phone to his ear and said, "he is wearing a jacket I gifted you once. There are some rich people here. That was a limited edition."
Bob pursed his lips.
Bob was the one who had lent his jacket to Abir. Ashley would get angry at him if she knew this.
"I didn't want to come but I was dragged here, honestly," Abir repeated his statement as he shut the door behind.
Zoya was clearly upset. She didn't want him to go to the clubs. No, she didn't want him to hang out with his current friends.
"Why did you call?"
"It is past ten and you are not home yet. I was worried, hence, called you. Now that I have heard your voice, you seem to be having a lot of fun," Zoya replied with sarcasm, her tone becoming serious towards the end.
"Alright, I will be home soon."
Zoya cut the call. She was disappointed.
Abir was frustrated. He had never shown her his angry face. He was afraid if he ever did so, they might break up.
The door of the restroom opened. The man who entered looked confused, who the hell shut the door so tightly. Abir went out.
Ashley noticed him again.
"There he is," she tapped Bob, pointing her finger towards the man. "You see?"
She didn't know that the guy in the jacket was her boyfriend's friend.
"Yes, I see," Bob said, pursing his lips seeing Abir. "Don't worry babe, the jacket you gifted had your love nobody can ever afford," he grinned.
Abir saw Amy sitting still and waiting at the table. He must have made her wait for long.
"I'm sorry for the call. I had to pick it up," Abir explained.
"It's alright. Here is your drink."
Amy's perspective changed. She became suspicious of him.
Abir had to leave the club. He was trying not to make it too obvious.
He pretended to glance at his watch and uttered, "it's time, I have to go now."
Amy observed.
She thought of asking him once for his contact number but he was in such a hurry.
"Oh, that is Amy," Ashley claimed. "She had been coming here often since last month."
Bob grew curious. He jumped up in his seat and asked, "you know her? Who is she?"
"She is rumoured to be the daughter of the most wealthy businessman of the city, who owns a chain of clubs around this town. There have been some pictures of her, released in the articles, seen entering and leaving that person's residence, though she is always in a mask."
"Oh, she must be really rich. An example of a girl born with a golden spoon."
Ashley side-eyed Bob.
"But why does she have to hide the fact that she is a businessman's daughter?"
Ashley asked back, "no idea, but why are you curious about her?"
"Nothing. I just thought that I saw her somewhere. Turns out I must have seen her in those pictures."
Ashley turned away.
Abir walked upto Mark and Xing. They both were chattering.
"I have to leave, thanks for your help, guys. Convey this message to Bob. Where is he?"
"His girl came so we had to leave him," Xing said.
"He might get lucky today," Mark uttered with some other intent. He smirked.
Abir left the club.
"Alas, their talk was interrupted."
***
Zoya was pissed off that day.
She started as soon as Abir arrived at the apartment.
"You didn't go to the club by force. You don't like me, right?"
She burst out. Letting out all the hatred she had in her heart's corner. Notwithstanding the fact that she might regret it later.
Abir couldn't take it any more. He yelled, "yes, I don't love you anymore. You have become the prick in the way of my life."
He sighed, keeping himself to say the harshest words to her. But she should know.
"This is it. I want to break up," he said. There was a loud silence after this sentence for a minute.
They have fought before, but this time…
"Am I getting dumped?" Zoya mumbled.
He had to do this.
"Is this because of some other girl you met at the club? Are you trying to… two-time?"
"Yes. Hell, yes. I have changed. I am sick of you now. I don't want to live bounded. I also want to enjoy life. I don't like getting forced."
Zoya believed this was all because he was in the wrong company of friends. They would surely lead him to distress.
"Fine. Let's break up, even I can't take it any further," Zoya responded.
Zoya banged the door behind her. She left the apartment that night. It was fifteen past eleven. She only had the orange handbag in her possession.
Where will she go this late at night? Why did this happen to her?
The cold wind felt much chillier. The trees swayed with sombre.
She looked at the half-moon, "this was the thing I dreaded the most. Why did it happen to me?"
She began sobbing. Standing.
The snow started to fall. It was the first snow of the year. Yet gloomy it felt. Overcasted.
She saw a homeless man holding a board that said 'blessings in return for your help'. Who told him the current generation will fall for this?
The man wore torn woollen clothes, grabbed his blankets and sheets tightly, walking fast. He didn't blink the whole way.
Having nowhere to go, Zoya followed that man. She entered a tunnel.
That tunnel had graffiti on its walls. There were many unhoused people lying near the wall of the tunnel, on the ground.
Some had blankets, some were keeping up with the newspapers they already had. They could be seen struggling to fall asleep.
Held by compulsion, she laid down on the dusty ground, using the handbag as her pillow. She needed to stay cautious through the night as the group of homeless may contain theives.
Later, an old man roamed around those people, distributing some newspapers to the needy.
He was himself an unhoused person but one of a kind. This was the least he could do to help them. He gave Zoya a couple of sheets.
Zoya was thinking of what happened the whole day. The incidents recapped in her mind back to back.
Without realizing, Zoya dozed off.