NOTHING BUT LOVE

PART 2 : ON THE BRIM OF LIFE AND DEATH

The pub was dimly lit, filled with the usual cacophony of music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. It was a typical Saturday night, and yet, for Pooja, it felt anything but typical. She sat hunched over the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hand, her eyes tired from a night of excess. Nikitha sat beside her, her face twisted with concern, though her attempts to persuade Pooja to slow down had long since fallen on deaf ears.

Pooja was a shadow of the girl she once was—confident and focused, the gold medalist who had stood on stage with her chin held high a year ago. Now, her makeup was spread, her hair dishevelled, and the smile that used to light up rooms was replaced by a deep frown. It was hard to believe this was the same girl. The once-proud academic star of their college, the girl with endless potential, had collapsed into something unrecognizable.

Pooja let out a bitter laugh, raising her glass in a mock toast before taking another swig. “Nikitha, you remember that, don’t you?” Her voice was slurred, heavy with the weight of alcohol. “The glory days… I was... unstoppable...! Everyone thought I had it all figured out... Even you.”

Nikitha placed a hand on Pooja’s arm, trying to calm her down. “Pooja, stop. You don’t need to do this to yourself. Let’s go home, okay?”

But Pooja wasn’t listening. She slammed her empty glass down on the counter, nearly knocking it over, and looked up at Nikitha with wide, glassy eyes. “Go home? Why should I go home, huh?” She laughed again, but this time it was a laugh that carried no joy, only sadness. “Nothing is waiting for me there. Just regrets… just failures.”

Nikitha sighed, stealing a glance at the bartender, who was watching the scene unfold with growing concern. “Pooja, you’re drunk. We’ll talk about this tomorrow when you’re sober.”

“No, Nikitha! We’ll talk about it now!” Pooja raised her voice, turning heads from the nearby tables. She didn't seem to care—or notice. She was too far gone to be embarrassed. “You should’ve stopped me. You should’ve… stopped me when I was making all those mistakes! You knew I was ruining everything, but you just stood there and let me do it!”

Nikitha swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. She had seen Pooja’s downward spiral coming from a mile away, but nothing she had said or done had been enough to stop it. Pooja had always been too headstrong, too driven by her own choices, right or wrong.

“I tried, Pooja,” Nikitha said softly. “I tried to help you, but you weren’t listening to anyone. You made your choices.”

Pooja let out a hollow scoff, her head falling forward as she swayed on the barstool. “Choices? Yeah, great choices... Now look at me. Look at what’s left of me. Just a stupid girl... chasing after things that don’t matter... breaking everything that does matter.”

She knocked her glass over as she reached for another drink, and the bartender finally stepped in, grabbing the glass from her hand. “Ma’am, I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Don’t you dare,” Pooja growled, but she was too drunk to fight back. She turned her attention back to Nikitha, her words pouring out like a flood. “I should’ve been something… I should’ve been someone. I was on top, right? Everyone knew me and respected me. But it all fell apart. And it’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Nikitha hesitated before replying, knowing that this moment wasn’t about logic or reason. It was about Pooja’s pain, and no amount of reassurance could change how she felt at the moment.

“Pooja, please, let’s just go home.”

“I’m not leaving!” Pooja shouted, her voice drawing more stares from the patrons around them. She stumbled as she stood up, climbing awkwardly onto the barstool like she was about to make a grand speech. “You all remember me, right?” she yelled into the pub, her arms outstretched as if addressing an invisible audience. “I’m Pooja! Gold medalist at graduation, top of my class! The best!” She laughed bitterly. “And now look at me! Look at what that’s worth!”