Ik Mulakat...

VIII

"Can you please remind me again why we decided to drive to Chinnaswamy stadium?" Mishti asked.

"Well Mishti your publicist thought driving to the game would attract less media attention than flying." He snapped back.

"Well of course it would," Pari muttered next to Mishti.

"I know that Ronobir but we've only been driving a half hour and not only is your taste in music terrible but you had to bring your annoying manager along for the ride." She pouted gesturing to the front seat.

"And here I was thinking you and I were beginning to bond," Armaan said looking back at her and pretending to be hurt. "Anyway, what am I doing that's so wrong; it's your publicist here that won't stop whining."

"I do not whine." She cried. "Maybe if you could read a map we wouldn't have gotten lost back there."

"Hey, I'm not the one driving this vehicle last time I checked." Armaan scoffed looking over to Ronobir for assistance.

"No I guess that would be me but it would help if I had a better navigator Armaan," Ronobir said through gritted teeth. Two hours didn't seem that long at first but Mishti was beginning to understand as far as road trips went this would have to be the worst. She thought she and Ronobir fought a lot but she realized in the confined space of the car that Pari and Armaan's incessant bickering far surpassed theirs.

After Vaibhav invited them Pari suggested the publicists' tag along to deal with any possible fallout but Reeva couldn't make it and now they were stuck with Armaan, something Mishti, Pari, and even Ronobir probably regret.

"Oh, I can't wait to see the RCB thrash the MI tonight," Armaan said rubbing his hands together with glee choosing to ignore Ronobir's earlier comment. "Vaibhav Arora is on an absolute hot streak at the moment."

"Yeah with cricket and women." Pari mumbled referring to their earlier photo which had just found its way onto the IDiva website with the caption, "Just friends?"

"Pari I said I was sorry about that, I guess I just didn't think." She said dismissively.

"Mishti." She erupted. "It doesn't take a genius to realize while you're the subject of intense media scrutiny it's better to refrain from having personal contact with other males in public."

"I'm sorry I had the nerve to leave the house and get some fresh air with a friend without checking with my publicist first." She shot back, Pari starting to get on her last nerve.

"Okay you win Mishti I'll change the music if you two stop yelling at each other, it's doing my head in," Ronobir growled from the front seat attempting to ease the tension. The two girls stared at each other before turning around to look out their respective windows. The car descended into silence each of its occupants in quiet contemplation. After a few minutes, Armaan spoke.

"So how about this weather hey?"

MI was up 150/6 at the half-time break with Vaibhav the lead scorer for the RCB. Mishti had remained relatively quiet throughout remorseful about her fight with Pari. She realized how immature she'd been considering the photo incident today not to mention the whole mess was entirely her fault.

"I need a drink," Mishti said standing up from her seat and stretching her arms out in front. Armaan was too busy teaching Ronobir the finer points of the game to notice and Pari just sat there with a stony look etched on her face. "Um, Pari do you maybe want to come with?" She asked weakly.

Pari looked up working out whether she was going to take the olive branch Mishti was extending. "Yeah okay." She replied quietly. The girls made their way out of the crowded bleachers and downstairs.