❤Tipsy Premika❤ [Vriti FF] [Completed]

We should have never met again

Sometimes, some wounds are so strong that, its better to let hide them than to tend them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Akash's POV

Its already 8 pm and I am still almost an hour away from vihaang's house. The plan was to see him at his place, but he asked me to come see him alone first, at a cafe about 15 mins away from his place. You could sense some kind of fear in his voice, as if he would get in trouble if I showed infront of his house. The thought of which is quite weird. Why would I be not welcomed? Afterall Mrs. Devika knew me well.

Anyways, his voice concerned me deeply and every minute seems like a million years.

"Aur kitna time bhaiya (How much longer?)", I ask the driver

"Bas 40 minute aur (Just 40 more minutes)", he replies without glancing at my direction.

There is some sort of anticipation. I don't know why.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mishka's POV

I have always hated Indian attire from the bottom of my heart. Its disgusts me and I would rather die than carry 5 kgs of unnecessary clothing on me. But, mother has a way of torturing me. She probably is a natural sadist

What annoys me further is, this event has got nothing to do with me, even remotely, and yet here I am, clad in a stupid outfit that no one is going to pay attention to.

"MISH...mom is calling you", nupur sounds worried

"Nupss..what is it now?", I ask her, not rrally bothered. Its my normal routine to get in trouble.

Next thing I know is nupur, looking at me with a hint of fear. If she thinks, I am going to be pissed, I will probably be. Mother has a way of pressing my buttons like no one does, not even pammi.

I walk downstairs where I find my self surrounded by guests with impeccable taste in clothing. They were the elites of India, each of them from eminent business families, each belonging to families that have been rich for generations, yet, you could see them being your typical next door neighbour, not letting go any piece of gossip, and never minding their own business.

And, as you would expect, I, Mishka Ahuwalia, was their favorite topic. My messy adoption case, to my mysterious arrival at Mr. Dev's home, and my lifestyle rumors, these people loved hogging onto it. Yet, today they show up, all smiles to celebrate an event and mostly to win few more networks or just a good piece of gossip to last them to the next f***ing party.

"Hello everyone", mother brings everyone's attention onto her, by slowly tapping her champange glass with a cutlery spoon.

All of a sudden, there is silence, yet I could see  people looking at a different direction. There walks in the elite of the elites, Mr. Malhotra, the most glamorous family among us all, and the owner of the biggest conglomerate in India. Mr. Malhotra, his wife and their son, Arnav Malhotra, the most eligible bachlor of our country walk in, and walking to the stage.