by Samit Basu
'There's no crisis here,' Indi says. 'Just an angry ex-employee trying to make a name for himself, and an innocent woman being thrown to the wolves.'
'You look ready for camera,' Zaria says.
'Why don't we skip the presentation and just start your Flowstar career with a no-holds-barred exclusive interview?' Indi's gone into instant-charm mode. Joey's always taken a second to roll her eyes any time she's seen him do this since their college days, but she’s too tired today. She watches her new Flowstar consider Indi's proposal as she looks him up and down.
'Nah, I'm good,' she says.
Jin-Young's mouth falls open in a pleasingly cartoonish way, and Joey finds her mouth is slightly agape as well. She shuts it with a snap. Indi's face is a study, and she can see him struggling not to burst out in an impassioned speech: does Zaria not understand what a magnanimous gesture he's just made? How much every journalist in the country wants to interview him right now? How incredible a beginning to her Flowstar career this exclusive would be? How stupid it is for a young journalist to turn down a rising star? He's learned something in all this time, though. He doesn't make it worse, just gives her a half-smile and turns away.
'I wouldn't mind interviewing you two, though,' Zaria says. 'What do you say, Reality Controller?'
'No thanks,' Joey says.
‘You, K-pop?’
Jin-Young just shakes his head, unsure where to look.
'I'm going to stick around and observe the rest of your day,' Zaria says. 'Just a fly on the wall. I want to see how you steer your way out of this mess.'
'You're going to do nothing of the sort,' Indi says. 'Also, don't call Jin-Young K-pop. That's racist.'
'Is it? Have I hurt your feelings, Jin-Young?'
'I don't know,' Jin-Young says.
'Well, tell me when you figure it out. Joey, do you need any help? No? Okay. I'll be waiting for your presentation then. I understand you're the one in charge of making me likeable?'
'No,' Joey says.
'Well, who is then? I can't wait to be popular.'
'Not me. Did you sign away your digital identities to Nikhil?'
'Fuck no. Why would I do that? If you're sure you don't want me around, I'll be in your office. K-pop, you're with me.'
'Jin-Young stays here,' Indi says. Zaria shrugs, and makes a graceful exit, pausing at the door to make sure everyone's watching her leave. They are. There are two hulking bodyguards outside Joey's flat, dressed in black kurtas, who glower at them as the door slams shut.
'I wish I had a father who was a wheeling-dealing politician,' Indi says. 'I'd also talk to people like that.'
He clears his throat and stretches.
'Okay, time to get to work. Jin-Young, I need you on your A game right now.'
Joey watches with reluctant appreciation as Indi instructs Jin-Young to go and track responses to apologies, flat-out denials, counter-accusations, distractions and other responses in all celebrity sex-assault accusation cases. He is to find out what worked, sort results by region, profession and age, and then show Indi projections for whether if he does respond, he should tell his fans this is a blackmail attempt with a few details, or run a distraction ploy — corporate conspiracy, attack on minorities — or whether he should just keep quiet and wait for people to forget. She couldn't have organised a defence any better herself: it's nice to know he was actually listening at all those crisis-response strategy meetings. And that he isn’t immediately thinking of getting into bed with Mens Rights Activists, or anti-woman politicians.
'I need to also check, let's see, whether I should apologise to the fans for the pain they've had to feel because of these false allegations,' Indi says. 'Give me charts and numbers. On paper, I need paper right now. Joey, I assume you have a working printer?'
'No.'
'Of course. Projector, then. Jin-Young, go.'
Jin-Young has no idea where to go, and looks at Joey in panic until she gestures to her bedroom. He rushes off.
'Joey, I need you to set the writers to work on all these scenarios. Pick the ones who'd relate most to each, yeah? When you're done with the assignments, we'll go through the key points of your statement.'
'My statement?'
'Yeah. Nikhil's lining up some top feminists, but then I was like, we also have real talent in-house. And that Zaria wanted to interview you for a reason. Don't stress about it, just get it done. Remember how we used to perform together back in the day? The camera wants to see you again.'
'Thanks,' Joey says. 'You know I'm not going to do any of this, right?'
His shoulders sink. He takes a breath, reloads, and assumes what he must think is a tired and appealing stance.
'Joey, I don't have time for this. I've always taken care of you. I've been there whenever you needed me. I need you now.'
'Taking this job was a mistake.' Her phone's ringing, somewhere in the room, she wants to drop everything until she's found it.
'Don't say that.'
'No, it was. You know, when you asked me to work with you, I went and interviewed at a few other Flowcos. Because I didn't want to work with you, I knew it would be complicated.'
'I'm so glad you changed your mind.'
'You know why I didn't join them? It was all guys. Just a bunch of bearded hornies with headphones, staring into their screens, checking me out openly, not saying hello when they were introduced. Just room after room full of sweat-stink and deo. I thought your space would be better. Safe.'
'And it was always safe.'
'I don't know that. I was fine, I was protected, you were my friend. But a lot of women came to work here because of me. And I've let them down. Every time I looked the other way, every time I didn't want to see what you were doing, I let them down.'
'They didn't need to be protected! They were adults, with agency, and doing what they wanted!'
His body language is right on point, and she feels a certain pride in how much he's improved with all those classes. Or perhaps it's all genuine. She can't tell any more.
'You were giving me some privacy,' Indi says. 'I've had none. None at all. I need some, right? Everyone needs some. You taught me this, years ago. I was very grateful to you for giving me that space.'
'It was a mistake.'
'Joey, you know me better than anyone. You know I didn't do anything wrong.'
'I am not going to put out a statement defending you.'
She finds her phone, and can see, for a horrifying second, what his face would look like with her phone buried in it.
'Why? Why won't you stand with me?'
'Why should I? Haven't I been through enough? Do you realise what happened today, that clip of Sharmila humiliating me, the great gender-traitor reveal — that's the first thing people will find when they look for me online? That's who I am now. For the rest of my life. Whatever I do, wherever I go. I chose this life. I chose this public humiliation. It is all a result of my decisions. There aren't any excuses.'
'This is not about you, Joey.'
'I can't even talk to you. And also? I don't know if I believe you.'
'How can you stand there and say that to me? You think I'd touch someone without consent?'
'You've touched me without consent.'
'What? What are you talking about?'
'More than once! When we were together. There were nights, I was tired, I was sleeping, I told you, I told you I didn't want to, but you just had to fuck something, didn't you? You always have to fuck something because how will you know you're a winner if you don't?'
'That's so unfair. First of all it was years ago. I told you I was sorry. So stop flinging that in my face. And look, there's absolutely no comparison between this and that!'
'I am not putting out a statement defending you.'
'Fine, please don't! I'm sorry I asked. I can't believe you.'
''I don't know why you even need this so much. You know you're getting away with it.'
'Getting away? I didn't do anything!'
> 'You were her boss. You were powerful. You abused your position. I looked away. I was part of it. I deserved what I got. Now leave me alone, Indi, please. You're fine. There are whole systems lined up to help you out, and they’ve had so many years of practice. There's no police. There's no process. There's no system. You're fine. People will forget about it by tomorrow if they haven't already. So just go home and enjoy your victory, yeah?'
A loud, deliberate cough from her bedroom: Jin-Young is in their midst. He's been listening for a while.
'I have the charts,' he says.
'That's good. Now help Joey with her statement. We're wasting time,' Indi says.
'It's not happening, Indi. Let it go.'
'Joey. You work for me and I'm ordering you to do it.'
'Thank you for that,' she says. 'I quit.'
'Just calm down. Take some days off, you're really stressed,' he says.
'No, seriously. I quit.'
'Joey!'
'No.'
He reaches out to her. She shrinks away.
'Just tell me you believe me,' he says.
‘No. Stop pushing.’
Indi shrugs. 'Jin-Young, you'll take charge of the whole thing then.'
'No, I won't,' Jin-Young says.
Both Indi and Joey stare at him, aghast.
'I would also like to resign,' Jin-Young says. 'I have decided to take up another line of work.'
Indi's phone rings. He stares at it, then at her. 'It's Nikhil,' he says. 'I have to take this, but - you know what, fuck it. Leave. I don't need you. Get out.'
'You're in my house,' Joey says.
She watches him walk away, phone to his ear, each stride more confident, more enthusiastic than the last. Her smartatt doesn't indicate high levels of stress, so Joey knows she must be fine.
CHAPTER SEVEN
RUDRA'S STILL NOT used to waking up next to another person, but over the last week he's discovered it's his favourite thing in the world. He now has a morning routine that extends beyond pulling himself out of bed and shambling towards coffee: he now opens his eyes before the alarm goes off, reaches out his left hand, and switches off the alarm while reminding himself to remove it altogether once he's properly up and about. He then celebrates quietly because his right arm is asleep, and waking it up would involve waking Tara, and Tara's next to him, she's still there, huddled up and snoring and mumbling, and it's so unbelievably good to wake up next to someone. To wake up after deep sleep, body achy but incredibly alive after nights of intense sex. Tara's taken him on a journey of a lifetime over the last few nights, taught him things he will probably never get to do again. He can't remember when he was last this aware that he had an actual body, that it felt and experienced its own moods, that it was more than some sort of organic locomotion device to carry his worries around in. He can only imagine what this week will bring, and wish that he'd done a few years of yoga to prepare.
She's told him very strictly not to fall in love with her, because this is just a two-week fling, and they're already halfway through it. She doesn't know where they'll be once her contract with the Flowco runs out. And, of course, he hasn't fallen in love with her, the very idea is ridiculous, and clever, funny, ambitious, charming, beautiful, athletic naked celebrities aren't his type anyway. She's probably just sleeping with him because she's bored, and lonely, and he's there. Because he doesn't talk a lot, and avoids doing absolutely stupid things for the most part, and local male standards are very low. Rudra's aware this has been key to most of his past relationships — in school and college, everyone in his social circle had dated everyone else, you had to collect the full set, and in Kalkaji, he'd tried to be kind to his neighbours — and all he has to do, for the next week, is to focus really hard on not fucking it up. He knows he can manage a week, though he wishes he could move that week to sometime in the future, just to somehow transform himself into a better, upgraded version. She makes him want to cut his hair and clean the house, to learn new skills and possibly memorise the Kama Sutra, to figure out ways to somehow improve the parts of his body she's very clearly told him she likes — eyes, lips, hands, arms, shoulders, ass. She's also given his penis glowing reviews, though maybe she was just being polite.
A week is a good length of time. Not long enough for Tara to find his unmeasured adoration annoying, or his constant attention tiresome. But long enough for her to train him to give her pleasure, and remember him when it ends. Long enough for her to start to feel the affection he's addicted to, maybe even feel it when they're not together, not long enough for her to find his habits disgusting, or for either of their best-self facades to crumble enough to repel the other. He's been storing mental images of her every day, building an imaginary album to remember when she's gone: Tara lost in contemplation of her own body, patting her stomach in front of the mirror to make sure it's as flat as it looks. Tara moving her lips in silence whenever she reads. He's terrified he'll miss her terribly when she's gone, but all through the week his smartatt readings have been consistent with new high scores for happiness.
She wakes up, and he forgets all about smartatt readings as she pulls him on top of her. It's less confusing each time: they have a routine now, they're a team. And when they're done, and she pushes him off and lies absolutely still, grinning at the ceiling, he's absolutely sure he's going to get his heart broken.
He doesn't want it to end. He wants to run away with her. He's got it all planned out: the well-executed heist on his own bank account, the fake identities sourced through his old neighbours, the flight to... where? Where are they to go? What are they to do there? He wants to just head to some place with a beach that's low on the tsunami-risk list and high on the fresh-squid list, but there isn't any such place in the subcontinent that isn't already crammed with slow-boiling retired Russians.
His gamer friends in other countries have been encouraging him to join an augrel, an AR-based religion where you gain points by performing daily acts of virtue customised and assigned via app and supervised by an AI priest, and these points win you first passes to exclusive cult utopias scattered around the world — there's one near Mussoorie — and then, presumably, to the gates of personalised paradise. There are millions of people worldwide, and several thousand in India, already in these augrels, but he'd be at an advantage because his accumulated fortune in game credits is transferable. He's resisted so far, pointing out his family's already in a cult and he finds that lifestyle unsuitable. His gamer-group asks him to at least try it for the affiliated discounts, accuses him of living in a bubble, and logs out.
But even if he finds a place to go, why the hell should she want to go with him? If she wanted to escape, there's a wide variety of sexpats available in the local market, all looking for amazing, pliant Indian brides. They approach her whenever she's out getting a drink, offering her country homes, breathable air and eventual boredom in a range of countries. But she's right where she wants to be, laying the foundations of her own empire.
When they're not eating or sleeping or going at it, she talks about her plans constantly — what should her solo Flow be about? What demographics should she target? What are her top strengths and weaknesses? How should she be the bridge between mainstreamers and that mythical global audience? Could Rudra do some research, and figure out a list of alternative paths for her? Could Rudra actually manage her, or should she get Jin-Young?
Getting Jin-Young is no longer an option, though: he's disappeared. When Joey and Jin-Young quit, the management had simply refused to accept Joey's resignation. She’s still reluctant to tell Rudra the details, especially on the phone. He acknowledges this makes sense, she’s his boss, she knows he’ll tell Tara everything, were they even really friends? And isn’t the growing distance between them completely his fault? Has he been anything but trouble to her since they met?
But he’s put the story together from the fragments that Joey’s shared. They'd pushed her with clauses and threats and praise and a barrage of messages about how esse
ntial she was, how they couldn't even think of letting her go to a competitor. She’d tried to tell them she had no intention of switching teams, she just didn't want to do this anymore, but they'd refused to believe her: everyone wanted what she had. Nikhil himself descended from on high to tell her about the special connection between them, give her raises and empty promises about employee protection committees and better workplace cultures. She hasn't accepted any of these yet.
‘Don't worry about Joey,’ Tara had said when he'd tried to talk to her about it the first day. 'The whole good-girl thing is an act, she’s just negotiating. She’ll fail upwards. Don’t get involved.’
He hadn't stopped calling, but he'd stopped telling Tara about it. The rest of the team tells Rudra with absolute confidence that Joey will come around eventually, she always does. Their confidence hadn't faltered when she stopped coming to work, they'd told him she'd feel guilty about doing nothing and suddenly one day she’d be running around pretending she’d never left, would he like to bet? He hadn’t: he'd have lost his money three days ago if he had. And it was only after she came back — and he still can’t believe she came back — and she asked where the hell Jin-Young was that anyone noticed he was gone. They'd all assumed he was lurking quietly either in her shadow or Indi’s.
Jin-Young's just gone: his phone's dead, his flat's empty, Joey actually went to look. The Flowco's decided to wait for a few days before notifying the authorities, because if they find him by face-tracking he'll end up on some Suspicious Foreigners list. Joey even went to Little Korea to ask if anyone had seen him, but no one told her anything useful.
Rudra and Tara had the house to themselves. Indi's team has taken all his things away — he's been moved to some secret location to prepare for his big stardom push, and his Flow has been playing mostly recaps, interspersed with games, travel and exercise for all demographics. He appears sometimes, face to cam, telling his fans he's excited about the big announcement. He never said goodbye to Tara, and Rudra knows she's still upset about that.