Endgame | ✓

1. The Roman Wedding.

~ ANUSHKA ~

01. The Roman Wedding.

   "YEH SHAADI NAHI HO SAKTI!"

  Nikita and I stared at each other in utter shock and wonderment when we heard the man's voice echoing inside the entire room. I tipped my head a little backward to see who exactly the asshole was to interrupt a Roman wedding that way with the stupid filmy monologue of his when it was least required.

  Because, the goddamn thing hadn't even started!

  Entered a man, dressed in a monochromatic tuxedo, an obnoxious, toothed smile — very stupid I might add — on his face and his eyes constantly planted in our directions. Nikita and I give each other a weird look, and shook our head in dismay. "He's my best man," Abeer piped in, a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

  Not him. Virat Annoying Kohli. Please not him.

  "You chose him as your best man? Like seriosuly?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him. Nikita couldn't help but chuckle at our banter. "What's happening to my best friends' choices!? First, Abeer pings me up and tells me to come to Rome because hello, he has decided to get married to that Italian pasta —"

  "Arista, her name is Arista. How many times will you spell it wrong, Anu?" Abeer glowered at me, while I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him again.

  "Why can't you see that I'm purposefully calling her pasta, huh?" I retorted with a small, amiable laugh as I moved a strand of my straggly hair that clutched on the cheek of my face into my braid.

  "Stop picking on her. What has ever she even done to you, Anu? Even my mom is not that upset with my choice. On the other hand, you cannot even stop cribbing about my wedding as if all hell broke loose." he snapped at me, jutting his chin out.

  I shrugged sincerely because I honestly wanted him to be happy. "Whatever," I muttered, turning to Nikita. "And you chose this guy out of all the guys in this universe to get married to? Seriously, Nikhil is not even worth a single ounce of attention, Nikita." Gritting my teeth tightly, I looked at Nikhil who stood a little away from us with that pasta, looking at us with a forced smile. Seeing his smile, I felt like kicking on his groin, and running from the church at a top speed along with the priest so that this entire wedding could just get cancelled.

  But instead I sigh.

  My best friends have officially lost it.

  "Hello guys," the best man (who, he is certainly isn't) interrupted our conversation, after a few moments of deliberation, giving us his crooked smile. I just frowned, looking at Nikita who gladly returned him the smile. "Long time, no see." he exhaled a held breath, extending his hand forward in our direction while I notice how everyone was staring at us with their owl-like eyes.

  "It was much better that way," I muttered to myself incoherently, a weird expression transfixed on my face just to show him that I didn't fancy him a bit. He might be a part of the "Indian Cricket Team", but I didn't give a flying fuck about it, because a) he was the best man in my friend's wedding which I don't approve, b) my hatred for wedding was intense, and c) my hatred for Virat was more intense than my hatred for weddings.

  "Why the hell are you here?" I questioned, hardening my glare, swiping my tongue across my lips. His smile was making me sick, feeling my stomach to heave detest. Why the fuck was he smiling so much? What was so happening about this not-so-happening wedding?

  "Oh, she means you're Abeer's best man. So you should go, and greet him first." Nikita said in a sweet-mellowed voice, gesturing towards Abeer.