Truly Yours

Chapter 1

The Dead of the night was when he felt most alive. The daytimes were for those who had nothing to hide.

Varun Aditya Rathod had a history of running away from the spotlight and hiding his tempestuous nature behind a carefully cultivated veneer of calm. The nights like today were meant for him to unleash his lust for adventure in a way that did not end in getting himself killed.

Leaving behind the city lights, Varun drove through the eerie stillness of the dark, deserted highway, soaking in the quiet before the welcome cacophony that waited at the end of the drive.

When the city of Pune slept, a strip off its northern borders buzzed awake with an effervescent enthusiasm of youth. When others felt their heartbeats level into a dreamless state, his beat faster craving the adrenaline-thumping excitement the atmosphere offered. It gave him a few hours of respite from the dreadful crossfire of his life - to drown himself into a mindless state of wanton relief.

The shrill ring of his mobile shattered the silence of the night within the confines of his brand new car. Varun snapped up the phone and answered without even a peek at the screen. His gaze flickered to the time flashing red on the dashboard. There was only one person who dared call him at 1 am.

"You're late," announced the clipped, calm voice of his best friend.

"In 5," replied Varun. About to end the call, he heard his friend's muffled sigh and grinned for the first time in days. "I will, Shivy."

Shiv snorted. Varun knew as did his friend that there was no way he would reach in time.

"I'll stall," said Shiv. "Cash?"

"Got it," assured Varun, patting the neat bundle lying on the passenger seat.

He ended the call and revved the engine, going full throttle towards the mayhem, to his friends, to the race he had prepared for the past few months.

After 21 minutes of whizzing past a few cars, he entered an open arena of eager racers with flashy cars showcased in an impressive lineup. Varun spotted his college buddy, Hari right away who was busy explaining some data to a poor guy naïve enough to get caught. So engrossed was his friend that he didn't even glance at Varun's flaming red Ferrari coming to a halt a few feet from him.

Shiv on the other hand spotted him from across the field, waved with a slight lift of his beer can and went back to charming the pants off the chick twining around him like a grappling vine. Varun slipped the bundle of notes into the pocket of his dark grey hoodie, locked the car, pocketed his keys, and left his hands there to soak in the warmth of the wool.

Alcohol flowed as freely as the nearby Mula River amidst the crowd gathered to cheer the risky, often fatal, car race of the season. The November nip in the air after a sudden downpour that evening added to the huddle of onlookers – mostly students from the neighboring universities.

His body recognized the anxious bite of restlessness hanging like a thick cloud over the ground and welcomed it with an eager anticipation. Heart thudding a hundred per second, Varun quickened his steps towards Shiv, who had managed to turn down the girl's advances with a determined shake of his head.

Pouting her disappointment, she sent a coy look Varun's way and sauntered off in the direction of her next victim. Well-muscled, but a good few inches shorter than his friend was obviously not her type. He wasn't interested in anyone anyways. He couldn't be. His girlfriend would skin him alive if he did. Hell, he would whip off his backside himself, if he ever dared stray.

"Nice bribe," noted Shiv, admiring his brand new car with abject disapproval in his eyes. Shiv was never off the mark. Never. In fact, he always zoned in on the very epicenter of the problem like a missile set to target. "Tell me you're not racing in that."