♛| xliv : be confident |

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|the naive rebel|
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xliv | be confident
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

word count- 2924


Ahh!! Here we go. ;-)

As promised!!

Thank you for all your wishes people!! Love!! 🤍🧚🏻

It made my day!!

i have planned this chapter since a very long time, i hope you all like it!!

And i hope i did justice to it. oof!

fingers crossed.

WARNING: This chapter is all over the place.

Happy Reading

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS WAY TOO MANY CURSE WORDS.

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I N A A Y A T
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There are dim light and overpowering darkness that surrounds me. Everything feels humid and smothering.

The minute dust particles are floating, caging and immuring against me, as the crooked wooden chair I was seated on creaks and squeaks.

The wooden table has a layer of soot resting on it. There's nervousness bubbling inside me, many possibilities arise in my mind. The fear of messing this chance dangles over my head.

The door is screeched open, the sudden light from corridor brightens the place for a mere second when it is closed again, leaving the room in murkiness again. There's a tapping sound on the wooden flooring as a female figure walks towards the table.

Ishaan who had been standing silently, working on his phone, raises his eyes seeing the intrusion. He lets out a soft grunt and slips his phone back into his pocket.

"Oo, look who we have here, Ishaan." The female clicks her tongue at Ishaan. Her voice is laced with heavy sarcasm and sneer.

Ishaan doesn't acknowledge her greeting and instead focuses his eyes elsewhere, on me. The female turns her head towards me and a real, genuine smile makes its way on her face.

"Hey, I am Nicky." She sits comfortably on the wooden table and the amber scorching bulb hanging over us finally enables and allows me to have a clear look of her.

Her arms are inked from the shoulder arch extending down to her wrist. Weird patterns and flowing motifs, black and grey with tints of green.

The piercing on her lips shines scintillating, her ear cartilages adorned my various metallic rings. Her aura screams bold and confident.

Something I ain't.

"Yeah. Long time no see, Nikita." Ishaan smirks at her. Nicky's face contorts into a lour. "I get it, Shaan." She fleers. They both glare at each other for a brief moment before Ishaan looks at me.

Nicky shrugs and adjusts her shoulders, cracking her fingers and her neck as she looks at me, eyes thoroughly scanning me.

"You brought those clothes, right?" She pokily says. I reply with a yes. The room feels denser and vehement. I notice the strange behaviour between Ishaan and Nicky. They are glaring at each other, snickering. They look livid and apoplectic and incandescent, almost breathing fire.

I start feeling awkward but before I can do anything about it, Nikita opens her mouth and speaks, "Shaan, you can leave now. I'll talk to her."

Noticing that we are already running late, Ishaan quickly glances at me and ambles towards me. His face so soft, so worried and so tender.

"You sure you want to do this?" He confirms, maybe hoping that I would suddenly tell him that I want to back out.

"Yes. I am not backing out." I glower at him. He defeatedly sighs and lazily walks out, leaving me alone.

Nicky sniggers as soon as Ishaan leaves the room and looks at me.

"If not for my girlfriend, I would have asked you out." She raises her voice a little, almost shouting so that Ishaan can hear it.

"Nikita." Comes his measured bellow. I stop the giggle threatening to leave my mouth. Nicky bends a little, edging a little closer.

"I was kidding. I am very much in love with her. I was just pulling his leg." She winks at me, playfully.

"He is already seething with anger." She addresses, and then again stretches her throat and screams, "Inaayat, are you single?" I cover my mouth muffling my laugh.

"Inaayat." His voice is now whiny. Nicky shakes her head and gets off the table. Walking towards the door, she opens it and then orders Ishaan to go and sit in the waiting area.

We are currently in the headquarter's basement, where I was strangely informed that I would be accompanied by an officer to the club.

"Okay, moving on. I am Nicky, I work here as a hacker. That rude fellow outside was my colleague once upon a time, and as you can see, we fought a lot. Hated each other." She tells me and I nod my head, understanding the story.

"But how did you know about," I point towards myself and then at the door.

"You think he is always this caring." A brief pause," with everyone?"

"HaHa. He knows that this task contains a lot of risks, but at the same time this is going to be so fucking exciting." She seems pumped up and look at me.

"Exciting? I am hell scared. I am certain that I'm going to screw this up." I confess dejectedly.

"You know what." I decide immediately. "Can you put the tracker on him? I will just accompany and help you. I should have backed off way earlier, but I want that person behind the bars." I sigh.

Ishaan had given me so many chances to quit, but I acted so stubbornly.

Why am I so stubborn?

"Inaayat, where are the clothes you brought?" Nicky changes the topic and I raise the handbag which contains my clothes. "Go and get changed." She tells and pushes me towards the washroom.

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Third Person
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Inaayat is so sceptical about today's event. She has a direction but she doesn't know how to reach it. She wants to find the person who is behind the murders, to punish the person but how?

She takes a deep breath while she leaves the washroom switching off the light behind her. Nicky is seen playing with the crystal paperweight.

Inaayat's footsteps easily draw Nicky's attention towards her, who wolf whistles seeing her all decked up. Mesmerised and stunned.

"And then you say, you aren't sure about handling the case." She hits her forehead and moves towards her.

"But-" Inaayat starts, to tell Nicky that how clumsy she is, that how easily prone to accidents she is. Deep down, she knows that she can be the reason of this task's failure.

"Shh. Listen, stop assuming that today's mission is going to fail. It is not. The only silver rule you have to follow to make this mission successful is to just be confident. Forget that you are incompetent, just know that today Inaayat is not going there, instead, a bold, confident woman is going there. Who is desperate for a rebound. Thirsty, fucking parched for some action." She continues.

"When you are there, do not think about the consequences, instead think of the ways you can put a tracker on him. I am not asking you to go and throw yourself on him." Nicky tells her, explaining how Inaayat would have to act a little sultry, like a desperate bitch so that she can gain the leader's attention.

"Just find a way to put the tracker in his pocket, it would be less conspicuous, that way. And your task's done." Nicky smiles at her, adjusting her hair and the straps of her dress.

"You are going there as a girl, who has gone through a bad breakup and she is readily looking for a rebound. Just seep into her character and forget about Inaayat for a while. Go wild," she ends her speech with a wink. She assures Inaayat that nothing will go wrong and that she'll be there with her.

Inaayat feels a little confidence budding inside her, she feels optimistic and sanguine. Her mind is in a positive space as she takes a deep breathe, shaking and shrugging off all her worries and doubts. She smiles at her, motivated. Nicky, in the meanwhile, goes to change her outfit.

After they both are ready, Inaayat and Nicky leave the room only to face Ishaan who is pacing across the lighted corridor. The contrasting lights chafe their eyes. Taking some moments to adjust to the brightness, Nicky titters and mutters, "Kids these days." Before she leaves the corridor, Inaayat and Ishaan in silence.

Ishaan stands still, mesmerised and shocked and dazzled and bewitched. He is captivated and a tinted hue is scattered across her cheek. The moment is so clichè, so simple, so normal, yet so beautiful.

Inaayat walks towards him, planning a prank to pull on him. She starts with a smirk, "Would you like to clean the drool, there." She points at the corner of his lips. The spell breaks and Ishaan looks at her, his eyes narrow but pupils dilated. The next second is quick and swift as he pulls her closer, hands locked against her back.

She is taken aback and frantically looks around them, "Drool, you said?" He mocks at her, derides her taunt. He is inching his face closer, very slow and sedately. Nose brushing against each other, eyes closed and lips parted.

"Inaayat!" Nicky yells and they realise where they are, and what they are about to do. Sighing and parting, they leave the corridor, with them holding their hands.

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"See I don't know what she has told you, just..take care okay? If anything happens, anything, just tell her or leave. We can arrest him later, he is not important but your safety is."

His voice is sincere. Inaayat doesn't fail to notice how he didn't care about the person who was responsible for his share of pains, instead, he just wants her to be safe.

"I promise." She smiles at him, Nicky and Inaayat leave to go inside the club. Ishaan, on the other hand, is sitting in his car at a certain distance. There are two police vans parked far away, for assistance. Everything is in its position, if Inaayat is successful, by the end of the night-their killer will be in the prison.

.

.

The club, damn the club, again.

It's the same, the same way they left it last time. Salty, murky, hideous, suffocating, tantalising, noisy-or wait, way too noisy and erotic and also, deadly.

The air has the same sweat and alcohol perspired and floating. The tunes are still the worst. The air conditioner still doesn't work, and tonight, the club smells of drugs too.

It's a little more crowded, a little less free spaced, a lot more adventurous.

Nicky bumps her shoulder against Inaayat, who currently is having way too many thoughts running inside her mind in the pattern of a loop. But, one thing that stands out is, that no matter what. She has to be confident enough to lure the guy.

Ah, right. She can bloody do it.

"The guy, there." The guy in white is shining unpleasantly. A brilliant amber drink thawing in the chilled cocktail glass. His lips darkened, side effects of regularly smouldering. Eyes bloodshot, deep and menacing.

There is an aura, so penetrating and so vicious. Icy layer rests on Inaayat's skin, as she is guided towards the dancing floor. Nicky vanishes after murmuring a quick round of wishes and bits of advice.

And there she is, Inaayat Kapoor all alone in the battlefield. Completely alone, with just one motto to be confident.

Like the curtains raise, lights are switched on, and the stage is active: Inaayat starts her drama. A silly, desperate college girl looking for a rebound. Quick and easy. Fluid and silky.

Her tresses and curls and her skin, camouflaging with the flickering and dancing warm lights. Shining golden, radiating red, bruising blue and sometimes the goading green. The slit in her dress providing enough room for her plumps to move and twirl. The tune changes back and forth, and she moves athwart.

There's skin, too much of skin, warming and frosting at the same time. Bodies around her, some alone, some with companions...and others?

Searching for companions.

The girl on the dancing floor isn't just a normal lass, she has a plan in her mind, a determination brewing in her heart, desperation in her eyes and a killer smile playing on her sinfully red lips.

She sways and moves, along with the tune. Soft melody, far from soothing. The lights are red, but amidst the rakish and rambling and raffish red hue, there's a movement of an impure and filthy white.

And then she is thirsty all of a sudden, parched. Making her way towards the same bartender who had served her once, her strides bellowing credence, her attitude so bold and so fucking slaying.

She collects her hair, allowing them to rest on her left covered shoulder. She sits on the elevated bar chair, her bare leg over the clothed one. Bending her body towards the tender, she orders the same drink that had her soaking drunk the last time.

She knows what she is doing.

There something in his eyes, the same bartender looks at her, with something too similar to lust pooling in his orbs. There's bare skin and then there's a hint of play shining in her eyes.

Ignoring the evident looks she is receiving from the same man, for whom she had come here. She is playing with fire, but she is way too good at it.

Rekindling and extinguishing it.

And so she starts.

"You told me about the white powder. Where can I get it? I need it so fucking badly." Her voice low and throaty. Sexier and sultry. So desperate and hungry. She is drunk, completely drunk on the game she is playing. Touching the cool liquid to her lips, she keeps the glass. Not swallowing or gulping or sipping even a drop of poison.

A game so exhilarating.

His eyes twitch towards the white-shirted man, but his lips spew lies and only lies.

"He didn't come today." The bar-tender excuses.

Fair enough.

She leans, a little more. A little deeper, inching closer, almost drowning.

"Ah. Then I guess, I have to settle for some man, if not the narcotics." There she said it. Throwing the ball of acceptance, waiting for him to catch.

Her voice dripping with the sweetness of honey. A little airless, and luscious. The eyes of the bartender swirl with more lust. But he wasn't the prey. But he sure is ready to give up on his duty, give up on everything for her.

"Man, huh? What's the scene." The voice is punily deep, cracked and like the broken bass.

Check.

"Fucking Bastard." She is upfront, eyes challenging him. He is confused and insulted and embarrassed, but she knows how to use her tongue way too well.

"Excuse me?"

"My ex. He was a fucking bastard." There is soft hatred in her smirk, so pulpy.

"Searching for a rebound?" He doesn't hide the hint blazing in his eyes, and he doesn't get the hint glistening in hers.

So stupid.

She gets off the seat, her hair flowing back to their original position. She takes a slow and small step, stopping some inches before him. Her wine painted nails brushing against his blanched white collar. Threatening and welcoming.

And then she is gone, blending with the various hues thrown upon her. Waiting patiently for her prey to surrender.

A brief moment, when she feels a hand sliding on her waist, smoothly.

The countdown begins for three minutes.

Her back decides to rest a little, her fingers quickly pitching for the small chip glued to her dress, hidden.

She is twirled around her painfully and roughly. Rushing through the process, her hands sliding and entwining around his neck. Her fingers playing with the chip, so casually and so devilishly. Swaying her, patterning her body, his hands squeezing her waist.

The prey has walked into her den, two minutes.

She is a mere source of woman body for him.
He? He is the one who is about to get poached.

He is engaged and enthralled and captured and captivated, as her nails slide down. Leisurely, carefully, ploddingly and heavily.

He believes she is drunk, her brain so sluggish. Little does he know, her brain is tactfully planning her next move.

He is so not ready, one minute.

The black scaly leather of his belt, the soft trouser material and the stitched pocket. So close to the finishing line.

Her other hand tugging his hair, painfully. Bestowing him with the sudden pain as her other hands slip into his back pocket, dropping the small, minute tracking chip. The darkness hiding the swift motion.

Check-Mate.

Hands back on his shoulders, the air so dense and thick and so vile. He is inching closer, he smells of alcohol and drugs and cigar and everything wrong. His eyes sloppily closing but Inaayat stares right through his face. There's the other part to the plan, something to push him towards the fright of losing his everything.

His phone is ringing and vibrating, voice muffled by the pitch loud music but he still manages to catch the sound. A second into the call and he is leaving the dance floor and then moving towards the exit.

Her gaze moves towards Nicky, who drops her eye in a victorious wink.

Let the race begin.


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Take care.

Until the next chapter,
keep dodging the bullets,
.


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