Opening Night

by Diksha Basu

  ‘Silly girl,’ Riteish responded, ‘clearly Jay is the one wearing the pants in this movie. Sameer is directing and all, fine, but you need to work with Jay. You need to convince him that in order to keep you, he needs to get you this movie.’

  ‘But,’ I protested, ‘I don’t want to be with him.’

  ‘You don’t have to be with him, darling. You just need to get the role,’ Riteish said, and he and Jess smiled at each other.

  Jess said, ‘Naiya, don’t act naïve. If you want to make it, you’re going to have to be a bit more proactive. You’ll just keep getting screwed over if you don’t do something. Take charge.’

  And so, that weekend, I put on my trendy ‘music chic’ outfit – a pair of grey shorts, a dark red T-shirt, and flat brown ankle boots – and headed to the party. My spirits got dampened a bit when the first person I spotted when I walked in turned out to be Sonal. She came over to me and pulled me into a hug, which was very disorienting despite the obvious smell of wine on her breath. Last time I checked, we weren’t friends. Why was she being so pally? What was she plotting?

  I was getting paranoid and needed a drink. I went straight to the bar though most people headed towards the stage. I heard some shrieking guitars in the distance and couldn’t figure out if the band was tuning or playing.

  The location was lovely – the top floor of a restaurant in Worli, pretty high above the other buildings. It was a huge, cosy space with floor-to-ceiling windows and low lighting. We clutched our 600-rupee drinks and commented on how lovely the view of the moonlight dancing on the water was.

  The men were all very handsome – maybe I would explore the music scene more. But it was perplexing to see all of them looking like each other. Why were they all wearing scarves? It was Bombay and, despite being in air-conditioning, it was undeniably hot. And why did all the scarves look like tablecloths? I saw the back of a potentially handsome man. His jeans weren’t as skinny as the rest of the men’s and his hair looked cutely ruffled from the back and, most importantly, no scarf. Score! He turned around and – unscore – who else would it be but Jay. I should have known. He hadn’t seen me yet, thank god.

  What was I supposed to do? Riteish hadn’t shown up because of some book launch and Jess had gone off to find Vishal. I was standing there alone with no plan of action. Damn it. The first time since the last time I saw him and I was standing all by myself, looking like a fool. This was certainly not how I had pictured this moment. At least I looked good, but I kind of wished I had a man by my side – handsome Kevin, perhaps? But then I decided to fight the fight alone. I did not need a man. I was not looking to replace Jay with some other neurotic loser.

  Sonal bounded up to Jay and he very inappropriately grabbed at her ass. And then, as if in slow motion, he turned towards me. Well, he turned towards the bar, presumably because his radar sensed the bottles of gin, but I happened to be standing right in front of the bar, so all of a sudden Jay and I were looking straight at each other. And, again, like that first time at Bookends, I saw the beauty outside the beast.

  I wasn’t ready yet to be devious and cunning. I wanted to walk away. There was a good thirty-foot distance between us, but my feet were frozen and I could not move. Fortunately, right at that moment, Vishal stepped in between me and my view of Jay and said, ‘You can’t just chill at the bar, dude. Come up to the front,’ and decisively grabbed my hand to lead me into the crowd. Retribution would have to wait just a tiny bit longer.

  My heart was racing and I kept drinking to keep up with it. Not a good idea. But at least I was managing to resist the pills – and the wandering hands – that Vishal kept offering me. Where were Jess and her ass so he could lavish his attention on them instead? There seemed to be no sense of proprietorship over asses in this town. I realized, while in deep thought about ass ownership, that I had managed to fully ignore the live musical act on stage just a few yards away from me. It wasn’t all that interesting. A scantily clad girl – concentrating more on seducing the men in the front than actually staying in tune – was crooning away to bad Norah Jones-imitation music. And the boys in the band were all wearing Kanye West-esque glasses made of cheap plastic with lots of horizontal plastic strips all the way across them that you just knew they couldn’t actually see through.

  Jess was still nowhere to be found, Vishal’s hands were still unnervingly touchy, the music wasn’t exactly inspiring, and my glass was empty. I had no excuse not to head back in Jay’s direction and get this over with. I was just drunk enough to be able to pull this off.

  It was a perfect set-up. Most of the audience was busy concentrating on the stage, and Jay was standing alone at the bar, fiddling with his Blackberry. I took a deep breath, ran my hand along his lower back, snuck up close to his neck and whispered, ‘Hey you. Nice seeing you.’

  Jay jerked up, smiled and gazed adoringly into my eyes. He said, ‘Hey, didn’t expect to bump into you here. You look lovely. Same smile.’ He was so charming. I had to fight hard to remember that this wasn’t the man of my dreams. This was the man whom nightmares were made of.

  I smiled at him seductively and said, ‘Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself. Seher’s doing good things for you.’

  ‘Seher? Oh, no, no. She’s … she’s nothing. She’s … your glass is empty. Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘Sure. A large vodka tonic would be terrific. I’m so glad to have run into you. I’ve been missing you.’ I leaned in, touched his arm, looked straight into his eyes and practically purred. I pulled out every trick in the book and flirted like there was no tomorrow. I tossed my hair, touched my neck, licked my lips … I even touched his chest while throwing my head back and laughing at his mediocre jokes. I was a walking-talking Cosmopolitan Girl’s Guide to Flirting. And I knew Jay enough to know that the way to his heart, and pants, was through his ego. I told him how much I loved our time together, how he was the most intense man I had ever known, and how fondly I thought of him every day. I even crooned, ‘God, I wish I could have made it work with you.’ He was lapping it all up and just stood there gazing at me adoringly. And then I pulled out my biggest weapon. With our faces separated by just a few tantalizing inches, I said to him, ‘I have to tell you … I’m going to miss you so much when I go back to New York.’

  The colour drained from his face as he put his drink down and took a step back. ‘What do you mean? When are you going back?’

  ‘In about two weeks, I think,’ I said casually. ‘I’m thinking of going down to Kerala for a few days and then heading back to the States.’

  ‘What? Why? Why would you leave?’

  ‘Oh, Jay,’ I sighed, ‘I have nothing here. I love Bombay so, so much, but Sameer’s movie was the main reason I wanted to stay. I mean … and you, of course, but, well … I can’t stay behind just for a man. At least I have to tell myself that, right? Honestly, I’d probably have done Sameer’s movie and then run off to Italy with you! How anti-feminist, no?’ I said conspiratorially with a light laugh. I was worried that I was taking it too far, but it was working; I could see his mind whirring.

  He said, ‘Listen, let’s go grab a drink somewhere else, huh? You’re not really into the whole music scene anyway and I like chatting with you.’

  Like a moth to a flame.

  I played it cool and told him I had to finish my drink first. I couldn’t figure out where Jess had vanished since we walked in, and looked around for her. I wanted to show my conquest off. She and Riteish had been very sceptical of my ability to manipulate.

  Sonal was standing with some doll-like friend of hers, and they were oh-so-obviously talking about Jay and me that it made it much more gratifying. With Jay drooling all over me, I finished my drink and then insisted on saying goodbye to Sonal.

  ‘Sonal, babe, listen, we just wanted to say bye. We’re heading out.’ With that I turned sharply and marched out, Jay in tow. It was easier than I had expected. Within forty minutes of getting into his car, he had cheated on Seher and we were lyin
g beside each other on my bed, smoking cigarettes. (Edie Sedgwick, I am back.)

  With the ball firmly in my court, I announced, ‘Listen, I’m going to shower. Just let yourself out, okay? I’ll call you before I leave, but I think I need to be alone right now – it’s too difficult. I mean, this is you and me …’

  Palpitating at the new me, I was in the shower, smiling to myself when Jay knocked. ‘Naiya, can we talk? I thought we were going to actually talk.’

  ‘I would love to, Jay, but I really can’t right now, you understand? It’s all too confusing. I can’t allow myself to feel the way I’m feeling about you. Not until I get my career in order.’

  He grunted and then I heard the main door slam. Okay, I’ll be honest. I wasn’t too sure what I was doing there. Riteish and Jess may not have been the best people to take advice from – this had the potential to backfire massively. I didn’t feel like the cool alpha-female with balls rolling around her court. In fact I kind of wished Jay were still lying in my bed. I got out of the shower and looked in the mirror. I somehow resembled Sarah Jessica Parker in the Sex and the City episode in which nobody shows up on her birthday party. There was mascara running down my face in terrifying streaks and it looked as if I had cried for the last two hours straight. I knew I hadn’t, but looking at myself like that in the mirror was making me want to.

  I lay in bed until noon the next morning. I was very confused by the previous night. Had Jay taken the bait? Would he speak with Sameer right away? When I had told Jay that I was moving back to NYC, a little part of me believed myself. When was I going to say enough was enough and head back to my cubicle in Manhattan? But was America even home any more? Somewhere along the way, India had begun to feel like home. Where, if anywhere, did I belong? I didn’t know when I had become such an obsessor. I used to be kind of nonchalant about things but now found myself getting more and more anxious. I worried about what I was wearing, what I was saying, how I was smiling, what I was doing, what I was thinking, and even what I was worrying about. It was beginning to get crippling and exhausting.

  Finally, around noon, I decided to emerge from my bedroom and turned my phone back on to find two missed calls from Jay at five-thirty in the morning and three missed calls from Riteish within the next hour. I called Riteish back.

  ‘There you are!’ he screamed into the phone. ‘Where have you and Jess vanished? Neither of you is answering my calls and I was so worried I could hardly sleep. What trouble did you two cause?’

  ‘Well, Jess isn’t home, so she’s probably at Vishal’s, and I caused exactly the trouble I had planned to. I slept with him, manipulated him, cheated him, acted like a bitch. But, Riteish, I’m not feeling that great about it.’

  ‘That’s because you’re new to all this. Relax. Go get yourself a foot massage or something. You’ve done well. The rest will come.’

  I decided to go to the gym. If my plan had worked, I’d need to be in good shape to face the camera soon. I was flipping through the entertainment section of the paper while dangling my sneaker off my toe when I read the headline: RAGHU DIXIT CHEATED OUT OF CRORES BY MEN CLAIMING TO BE HIS PRODUCERS.

  Seriously? These ‘producers’ were setting up concerts and music videos using Raghu’s name but actually swindling people left, right and centre? It made sense. That ‘office’ Mini and I went to was hardly professional. And Mini had actually wanted me to just hand my passport over? Had I stuck with Mini, I would have lost fifty thousand rupees and my passport. Leaving her seemed to be the only wise decision I had made in the last few months. The more I heard about Mini, the shadier her business seemed. The only rumour I didn’t believe was the one that claimed she slept with all the aspiring male and female actors out there. And the only reason I didn’t believe that was because if she ever got on top, there would be no aspiring actors left.

  Anyway, poor Raghu. Maybe he wasn’t a bad egg, after all. He should have been left alone in his swirling seas to do his internationally acclaimed work. I felt a bit better. At least someone was getting screwed worse than I was.

  I finally put my sneakers on and headed towards the door. In the rickshaw to the gym I got a text from an unknown number:

  hey. was wondering if i cld talk 2 u. can we meet for coffee? seher

  Oops. I couldn’t deal with that right then. I hadn’t even returned Jay’s calls from the night before. I went to the gym but kept going over Seher’s text again and again in my head. Why on earth would she want to meet me and how would I get out of this? I sent her a non-committal message to test the waters.

  can’t leave bandra today. Is all okay?

  She replied almost immediately.

  i’ll come to bandra. see you @ barista reclamation @ 5

  Well, that was that, then. I considered checking with Jay but decided I didn’t need to. When someone cheated in a relationship, the cheater was to blame, not the other person. Especially when the other person had no connection to the significant other of the cheater. Even more especially when the other person was me.

  As I was mulling over my moral logic, Jess called. I answered and said, ‘Finally! I’ve been trying to reach you. I have to talk to you about yesterday. Everything went just as I planned.’

  ‘Great,’ Jess said, but she sounded miserable.

  ‘Jess, what’s wrong? Where are you?’

  ‘I’m back at home. Rough night. I’m not feeling that great.’

  ‘Drank too much? I know the feeling. I’ll be home in ten minutes. I’ll pick up some Electral for your hangover. Do you need anything else?’

  ‘No. I’m fine. Just come home.’

  Jess was a shock to behold. She was in worse shape than I had been in my mascara-running-Sarah-Jessica-Parker condition from the night before. Her eye make-up was doing koala bear things to her face, she looked bloated, her nose was running, and her hair was matted and messy. I am never very good in these situations. I have friends, Jess herself included, who tend to be naturally nurturing. They know exactly what to do when they find a friend in such a situation. I am usually the opposite. But I snapped into action. I pulled the rubber-band out of my hair and used it to tie hers. I went to the bathroom and got my make-up removing wipes and helped remove her eye make-up. Though she still wouldn’t like seeing how she looked, at least it was halfway decent now, and if there was one thing I learned the night before, it was that when you were feeling miserable, you didn’t want look in the mirror and see it. I brought Jess a glass of Electral and sat next to her on her bed.

  ‘Where did you vanish last night? I didn’t see you at all after we walked in. Probably for the best, though. You should have seen me in action. I was brilliant,’ I started rambling.

  ‘I don’t know what happened last night.’

  ‘Ha! Jess, that’s fine. We all have nights when we drink too much. God knows I don’t remember several of my nights. I find it’s for the best.’

  ‘No, that’s not what I mean.’

  ‘Huh?’

  While I had been seducing Jay, Jess had gone into the back office with some of Vishal’s friends to do a few lines of coke. Vishal came in a little while later and, right as the effects of the coke were wearing off, offered her a pill. She took it. Her next memory was of waking up at eight in the morning on the floor of the back office with her pants undone and a throbbing headache. Well, that certainly put my problems into perspective. I didn’t know what to say or do. I lay down next to her and stared up at the ceiling. This wasn’t just a bad hangover. There were no How-to-handle-such-fucked-up-situations For Dummies books at Crossword.

  I whispered uncertainly, ‘Do you think you might have been raped?’ I heard the quiver in my voice and wanted it to go away. Jess didn’t need me to be crying. She needed someone to help her. She turned towards me as if the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.

  ‘I don’t think so. I think I remember someone vaguely trying to do something with me, but I don’t think so.’

  ‘Okay, we need to get you to a hospit
al. Let’s start with that and then work through the rest of this, okay? We’ll tackle it piece by piece.’

  ‘No. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I’m pretty sure nobody actually did anything.’

  I could sense that I was about to lose my temper. Also because we needed something, anything to do, and the hospital seemed like the only option. We couldn’t just continue lying there staring up at the ceiling. We needed to get out of the apartment, the stagnant state. We needed a purpose.

  ‘Jess, “pretty sure” is not good enough. Get up. We’re going to the doctor.’

  I can’t say I wasn’t impressed by my ability to be assertive. But, as always, Jess was even more impressive.

  ‘Shut up, Naiya. Nobody goes to the hospital after a bad night of partying. Stop acting insane.’

  ‘But what if you were raped?’ I asked desperately.

  ‘I wasn’t. I might have been taken advantage of, but I wasn’t raped. I went too far. That’s all. I’m upset but I’m alive. I’m fine. You’re so dramatic.’

  Feeling foolish, I asked her what she wanted to do, whether I should call Vishal.

  ‘Naiya, I just want to sleep.’

  I nodded and forced her to shower and then put her to sleep. I lay on the cushions in the living room, staring up at the ceiling with not a thought in my mind.

  Jess woke up looking much better. I ordered pizzas and we sat down to chat. Suddenly she was the one trying to calm me down. ‘I can’t blame anyone, Naiya. You understand that, right? I took the pill. The decision was mine. I take a lot of pills. I can’t blame anyone.’

  ‘Yeah, but Jess, Vishal gave it to you and didn’t make sure you got home.’

  ‘Naiya, I know. I know he isn’t the most innocent guy around and … wait, stop … I know what you’re thinking. I know he’s a flirt and that his eyes and hands tend to wander, but he wouldn’t ever give me a bad pill on purpose. You have to trust me on that. And he didn’t make sure I got home? Where does that fit in with all your high-flying Princeton feminist views? I should be able to get myself home.’