The Pondicherry night pulsed with life, the beachside pub a vibrant haven where the sea's whisper mingled with the thrum of music and laughter. Jaya, still buzzing from her dance with Prashanth and the rum warming her veins, felt the city's magic wrap around her like a shawl. The open-air deck, strung with lanterns that swayed in the coastal breeze, felt like a sanctuary, its freedom reminiscent of the stories she'd heard about seaside escapes where the waves carried away the weight of the world. But tonight, her thoughts kept drifting to Prashanth—his easy smile, the spark in his eyes, the way his hand had brushed hers on the dance floor. Tara's presence loomed, a reminder to keep her feelings buried, but the pull of him was harder to ignore.
The Kolaveri Di remix faded into a slower, sultrier Bollywood track, and the dance floor remained alive with the group's energy. Jaya swayed to the beat, her white top catching the lantern light, her jeans hugging her curves as she moved with a natural grace. Priya, twirling nearby, grabbed her hand, pulling her into a playful spin. "Jaya, you're killing it!" she shouted over the music, her grin wide. "Where'd you learn to dance like that?"
Jaya laughed, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the rhythm. "Blame my college fests!" she called back, letting the music guide her. Others in the group noticed, their cheers drawing her attention. Arjun, mid-dance with Priya, gave her a thumbs-up. "You're stealing the show, Jaya!" he said, his voice carrying over the crowd.
A guy from the other car in their group, Vicky, leaned against a nearby table, his eyes fixed on Jaya with open admiration. He was in his late twenties, with a boyish charm and a bright smile, his T-shirt slightly rumpled from the night's revelry. "Damn, Jaya, you're a pro out there," he said, stepping closer, his tone warm and flirtatious. "You ever think about teaching dance? I'd sign up."
Jaya grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face, her confidence buoyed by the praise. "Thanks, Vicky, but I'm just having fun," she said, keeping her tone light. She caught Prashanth's gaze from across the dance floor, where he stood with Tara, his expression unreadable but his eyes locked on her. The intensity of his look sent a shiver through her, a mix of thrill and guilt. He's with Tara, she reminded herself, turning back to Vicky, who was still chatting animatedly.
"You're too modest," Vicky said, his smile widening. "You've got this energy, you know? Lights up the whole place." His admiration was genuine, and Jaya felt a flicker of flattery, but her thoughts kept drifting to Prashanth, whose presence felt like a magnet even from a distance.
Prashanth, meanwhile, felt a quiet stir in his chest as he watched Vicky's easy flirtation with Jaya. Tara was beside him, her arm looped through his, but his attention was on Jaya's laughter, the way she moved with a freedom that drew every eye. He noticed the way Vicky leaned closer, the way Jaya's smile lit up at the compliments, and a pang of something—jealousy, perhaps—tightened his jaw. He shook it off, focusing on Tara's chatter, but the image of Jaya dancing, her eyes meeting his, lingered like a scene he couldn't rewrite.
As the night wore on, the group spilled back onto the deck, the music softening to a mellow acoustic track. Jaya, her buzz fading into a pleasant warmth, found herself near Prashanth at the bar, both reaching for a bottle of water. Their fingers brushed, a fleeting touch that sent a spark through her, and she pulled back, her smile quick to cover the flush in her cheeks.
"Still hydrated after all that dancing?" Prashanth teased, his voice low, his eyes crinkling with warmth.
"Barely," she shot back, laughing. "You held your own out there too, you know. Not bad for a scriptwriter."
He chuckled, leaning against the bar, his shoulder close to hers. "High praise from the star of the night. Everyone's talking about your moves, Jaya."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. "They're just being nice. Vicky's already trying to recruit me for dance lessons."
