Simran

******

Life has a way of screwing one over in unthinkable ways. One day you would be laughing with no care in the world, the very next day all of your reasons to be happy would be gone, poof in thin air, like it was never there. One moment you would be on top of the world touching the heights of success, living your life to the fullest, the next moment you will find yourself thrown on the ground, your blissful life shattered into countless pieces irreparable. And no matter how hard you try to find the reason behind it, to find any sane reason, any cause, anything to hold, to make everything seem reasonable, you fail every time.

I was no different.

I became the target of one of life's cruel schemes. Everything changed for me, the people I knew seemed strangers now, the life I knew was left far behind and I had nothing left to hold except for one piece of something. A name.

Marco Polo.

Yes, surprisingly, all I had left with was this name and I held onto this mission of finding this person. I had no clue what I would do, who he was, but I knew I had to find him. So, I held onto this purpose, tuning all of my pain in some dark chamber of my head, not letting it get to me more than it already had.

I sipped the bitter champagne, trying to blend in at the party to which I had not been invited to at all. Heck, I didn't even know who had hosted a grand party like that on the outskirts of the city. But for sure, it was some male celebrity, considering how the faces of the girls and the women, even the middle-aged ones glittered and they kept redoing their makeup.

"I have heard he has become hotter than before."

"I can't wait to see him again."

"Let us have our moment, too. He looked at you last time. This time it would be me."

A group of middle-aged women were talking about the host. The weird part was, two of them were married; their overpriced diamond rings were already blinding me. For sure, those women had lost their minds. I almost rolled my eyes at them gushing over another human being—simply a man. Not sure why everybody these days had been thinking not with their brains, but with their dicks and pussies.

I was clueless as to when the scientific shift of the brain into vaginas and dicks happened because I was certainly using my head. Anyway, I ignored those women and strolled around, pretending to be one of them when I was not even close. I didn't even like such grand parties. They only suffocated me. As I walked around, glancing at the entrance door, I heard some other women talking.

"Look at you, all dolled up. And oh my, the diamonds around your neck are dazzling."

"You think I would be the lucky one to ride in his car..."

"And his dick?"

I choked on my drink this time. Both women, looking gaudy in their appearance, gave me a bored look, but then continued with their talk. Thank God, it was a masquerade ball and nobody saw my face. It was not that big of a deal, yet showcasing my face could only make things worse because of the profession I was in. Also, I had to be careful as I couldn't mess up this chance of meeting the one man who was finally going to let me in on some details to reach this Marco guy I could find nothing about on the internet. All I found out was the famous explorer, and to meet him, I'd have to die or time travel to the fourteenth century. I hoped it would be him, because dying would have been easier. The thought took me to a dark abyss again, the one I pull myself out of every morning, the one that was becoming my permanent residence.

I looked at the time, a little impatiently this time, waiting for any sign of my best friend, who, by the way, should have been there twenty minutes ago. But there was no sign of her. Her absence was another reason for my impatience, as she was someone who was always punctual.

The girls behind me kept on blabbering, and my ears were bleeding invisible blood. I would not have been put to such an extremity if my best friend—the one who arranged the pass for the party—had been there, my only hope, Nitya Malhotra. She was supposed to go with her husband, the infamous criminal lawyer of London and one of the kindest and most charming men I had ever known, Arjun Malhotra. But Arjun had to go out of the city because of a case. When Nitya asked me to join her, I did not refuse. Firstly, because there was no way I could say no to her; she was so far the only person left who somehow knew what I was going through, even if it was just the tip of the iceberg. Secondly, this party was my one and only chance to find the one man who could help me get the next pieces of the puzzle I had been trying to solve, which had become my sole purpose.

Nitya and my friendship were too incidental. We had known each other for a long time, yet our friendship did not bloom much until later. We first met during her brother's wedding with my foster sister. Though we kept in touch, we were never the best buddies—until the tragedies of our lives. An accident caused her childhood friend to slip into a coma, and another one snatched the most important person from my life. The accident took more than a life; it took my happiness, my peace, and everything I ever cherished and was proud of, leaving only a shell of a body.

A server passed by, and I took another glass, gulping whatever was in it, not focusing on how much it hurt my throat, trying to forget the sour memories that played in my head, after all these years. This liquid that looked like champagne was too strong for my liking, but to survive that party and to forget about one dreadful dark night, I needed it. I put back the second glass of alcohol, and as I was about to pick up the third one, I finally saw my best friend rushing toward me, glowing in her ivory gown.

"I am so sorry." She approached with an immediate apology and a smiling face.

"You should be happy you are my best friend." I crossed my arms, trying to appear intimidating, but she knew I was not.

"Ah! My life is spared now," she joked as she straightened her hair. That was when I noticed the hickeys on her, making me realize why she was late when she preferred being punctual.

"I thought Arjun left in the morning."

"No, sudden change of plans, he ha...." She stopped mid-sentence as she stared at me, confused, and asked, "Wait! How did you know Jun didn't leave in the morning?"

"The deep purple hickey on your neck and the one above your cleavage are screaming his name." She gasped, trying to cover herself. I giggled, looking at her all flustered as her face turned red.

"That sneaky man, I swear I am gonna teach him a good lesson."

"You didn't see the mirror?"

"Ah, well, I..." She fumbled with her words as she carefully covered her hickeys with her long, silky black hair.

"He dropped you here?" I guessed, and she replied in affirmation, "Uh-huh."

"Who was driving again?"

"We took a cab."

Wow! My angelic, shy best friend had become much bolder than one could think of. But again, the love her husband showers on her is something to admire. And after everything she had gone through, she deserved all the amazing and sweet things in the world.

"Okay, enough of my hickeys; come on, let's go." She linked her arm with mine, and we strolled deeper into the party. I looked around to find that one man I was here to see who was going to let me know about Marco Polo, but could find no one. There was no way I could ask Nitya because then I would have to tell her why I was after him. It constricts my heart to keep this from her, but I was not selfish enough to pull her into my mess when she herself had just broken free from the shackles of one not long ago.

"There..." She pointed at a man limping towards the other end of the hall.

"That's Mr. Waltz. His leg is fine, you know. But he pretends otherwise to gain sympathy... I mean, women's sympathy."

"Look." She pointed in another direction, diverting my attention there now.

"That's Lily, annoying as hell. But she's the gossip monger of the modelling industry. You name the gossip, and she knows it all. Glad I don't work with her directly."

Nitya kept telling me about the people, or rather, distracting me. She had been doing it ever since she got to know the truth of my life that I had been successfully hiding from everyone, even my foster sister Dhriti, who is no less than my real sister and whom I love the most in the world. But my walls crumbled in front of Nitya before I built them up again. So she is now the only one who knows most of the truth of my life, and the things she does to keep me sane might not always work, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it or feel grateful for it.

There was a middle-aged man who caught my eye, who had been lustily eyeing every other woman, passing some snide remarks here and there. His presence already gave me the ick, and I had the feeling he was the key to Marco Polo, which meant he was the man I was trying to find.

"Who is he?" I asked, nudging Nitya toward the man. Nitya's jolly face turned sour, and then she replied with contempt, "Asshole."

"What did he do for you to lose your cool? Something I should be concerned about?" Nitya was not someone who shows disdain towards others easily, so her display of such powerful sentiment put me on alert.

"No, silly. He doesn't have it in him to even dare to look at me. Being Arjun Malhotra's wife has some great perks. Besides, he is a coward. He knows I would give it back to him if he dared to try something with me. He's just another pervert. Let's go."

"What's his name?"

"Byrol."

"Byrol as in Byrol Paine?" I tried to confirm, even though I was sure he was the man I had to talk to, the pervert my best friend hated.

"You know him?"

"I... heard about him. You know, the chatterbox people I work with." I lied. I had never heard of him before, except for this one time that eventually led me to him.

"He's an agent who hires women with no modelling backgrounds. As much as he excels at his job and has an eye for diamonds, a lot of models left the industry because of him." I nodded as I kept observing him. He sure acted like a certified pervert.

Why do I have to keep dealing with people like him?

"Ignore him, let's go," said Nitya before we walked farther from where Byrol was.

My target was right there, and all I had to do was corner him. And now that I knew women were his weakness, it would definitely be easy for me to pretend to seduce him. Besides, I was not someone he could lay a hand on. I knew how to fight my battles. Everything was perfect, and I could see my plan coming to fruition. I just had to handle Nitya.

"Niti, I have to make a call," I lied to her, trying to excuse myself. She stared at me, confused, and to make my lie sound like the truth, I added, "I have to call Dad. He called me in the morning, but I didn't pick up."

But I had forgotten that my best friend knew a lot more about my life than anyone else, and my lie might backfire—which actually was the case, as concern sprawled all over her face. I hated lying to her, but I had no choice. Though Dad calling me was not a lie, but me calling him back definitely was not the truth. The last thing I wanted was to hear Arvind Kashyap's voice. Strange how I used to be so eager for his one call earlier, but dreaded it now. And that "earlier" was three years ago. It's been three years since the upheaval that destroyed everything. Three years since everything was snatched from me and left me with nothing, three years since she...

"Sim, you sure?" Nitya pulled me out of my trance as she touched my arm softly. Her gaze softened as she waited for me to respond.

"You know, you could take your time and not call him tonight. You know what, let's ditch the party. Let's have a movie marathon at my place." This party was her idea. Though it became my dire need to be here, it was she who brought this up. I knew how much she enjoyed such events, dressing up, going out, and her being ready to leave all of it for me said a lot. And even if I wouldn't have been able to talk to Byrol, I would never, ever let her sacrifice her moments of happiness for me. Not when I now know how much little moments of joy matter, not when I regret not living the moments of joy I would never get to live again.

"I have been delaying talking to him for over a few weeks now. I don't think I can do it anymore. Besides, it's just a call." I acted carefree, though even the thought of talking to my father made me anxious inside.

"Sim..."

"I will be fine, Niti. Besides, what worse could happen?"

Yeah, what worse could happen? I had seen worse, and that had broken me beyond repair. Now I had to wear a facade daily for everyone, even my best friend, and pretend that I am not the broken rag doll nobody wants anymore.

"I will be back in a jiffy, I promise." She gave me a curt nod, smiling slightly even though she was not entirely convinced. My eyes then wandered in the direction of the girls from before, who were gushing over the host of the party, and I got curious all of a sudden about him. To satisfy my curiosity, I asked my best friend, "By the way, you never mentioned who the host of this party is. Who is he, again?"

"No one... no one you should be concerned about."

She seemed nervous while replying, which was a rare occurrence.

Why would she be nervous?

But then, I didn't care much about who hosted that party when my only goal was to talk to Byrol Paine, so I didn't pester her much. Excusing myself, I rushed to the hallway where I had seen Byrol walking. The hallway led to a gigantic door. I treaded in that direction, checking every room on the way in hopes Byrol would have gone into one of them. All the rooms, however, were vacant.

As I kept walking in the direction Byrol had gone without paying any heed to anything else, a voice froze me in my place.

"And who do we have here?"

The voice was familiar.

Nope, not him. It's not him. There is no way he could be here. Or could he?

Of course, it could be.

I was not worried about the man who asked about my identity, but the ghastly presence I could feel around. Even though he had uttered no word, I knew he was there, too.

My stupid heart accelerated. And no, it was not because of good chemical reactions, but worse. I knew if I turned around, everything would turn to ashes for me—my plans, my facade, and my will to not be scared. Sometimes you have to keep quiet for the monster to think he has the lead, and that's what I did. I didn't move, but stayed quiet.

My head was spinning, and I could feel him close, frighteningly close. I didn't hear him walk, but I could feel he was near.

No, no, no. No fucking way.

"That's rude not to greet your host. Has anyone ever told you that?" It was Enzo again. His voice came from the same distance as before when he asked about my identity. While Enzo stayed rooted in his place, the man he worked for did not. I could feel him even though he said nothing, even though I had not seen him.

Now I understood why Niti was apprehensive about telling me who hosted the party. She knew how much I hated this man, yet she brought me into his party. Though I couldn't blame her, I would deal with my best friend later. And now, my priority was to get out of that quagmire. I had to talk to Byrol and leave the party before this devil of a man caught sight of me again. I was grateful that the hallway was not well lit; otherwise, things could turn much worse for me because the hate I had for him was mutual. He hated me equally, and maybe more than I hated him.

"Turn around." I heard Enzo, but I stayed my ground.

I couldn't turn around, but I knew I had to do something to distract him and run. I knew some sign language, so I held up my hands and used it to reply that I couldn't speak.

An angry breath reached the nape of my neck. Goosebumps erupted all over my body, and it felt like my response infuriated him.

But how could my telling him I could not speak make him angry?

If I turned around, he wouldn't be talking to me; rather, he would grab my throat and twist a knife into my heart, or no, he would prefer tormenting me, because that's what he was—a psycho tormentor. So no, turning around was not an option. I had to find another way out. Just as I was rummaging through my head for any solution, I heard the voice of my foster sister, Dhriti Di.

"Here you are." I took a sigh of relief when I heard her approaching. She was surely there for the host of the party, her cousin. I turned the opportunity in my favour and rushed ahead.

"Who was she?" I heard Dhriti Di ask.

"Don't know," Enzo replied instead of him.

I sprinted toward the hallway's end to find this Byrol guy. The gigantic door led me to another hallway. And the hallways didn't just end there. I had to legit cross three hallways before I finally spotted Byrol.

God! Where the hell am I? Is it some kind of palace of maze that doesn't end?

Though I was certain it was no palace after I realized whose party it was. For sure, I was trapped in hell that only looked like a palace, and I had to get out of that place as soon as possible. Because I could survive anything, but not if that evil host of the party found me.

I tiptoed toward where Byrol was headed and then felt a sudden hit to my head, even when nothing had hit me. I almost lost my balance and held the nearby wall for support. Byrol looked around as if making sure no one was following him, and then opened a door that led him outside. My head spun terribly when a whiff of cold air hit me from outside the open door.

I steadied myself, trying to find some semblance of control over my body, and headed outside.

When I walked out, I could see no one. Besides, everything was too dark to make out any figure. I could have turned on the flash of my phone, but it didn't seem like the right thing to do. I was about to head out into the darkness when I heard two male voices.

"You can't threaten me."

"Then you fucking do as told. This will be your last warning."

I couldn't recognize the second voice, but the first voice was Byrol's. I had heard him talk at the party. Slowly, I headed in the direction of the voices, which soon turned into a heated argument.

My head kept spinning. I might not have a high tolerance for alcohol, but I hadn't been drunk enough to be this dizzy. Besides, I was weirdly feeling hot suddenly.

Why the hell is everything so hot?

I removed my mask and threw it away somewhere, then dropped out of my heels as I walked with my wobbly legs toward the source of the sound. The strap of my sling bag got caught on something as I moved ahead through bushes, leading to a path somewhere, and my bag fell down, spilling all of its contents around, even the taser and pepper spray I always carry with me.

"Oops!" I giggled at my silliness.

Why am I laughing?

"Who's there?"

I covered my mouth with both palms, still feeling amused by the whole predicament, when I heard the voice from before. The voice sounded angry and dangerous, and it did not belong to Byrol.

"What now?" I heard Byrol ask the other person.

"Kill them, whoever it is. Boss doesn't like any mess."

I thought I had misheard about the killing until hurried footsteps rushed in my direction. Someone actually wanted me dead, just because I overheard them talking. I didn't even know what they were talking about. And the strange part about the entire scenario was that I felt giddy and funny, and wanted to laugh instead of being scared. There was definitely something wrong with the last drink I had, for me to react like this to the news of someone approaching to kill me. Even though fear was trying to catch me, it didn't crawl inside my veins. I still ran into the woods, unaware if I would even make it out alive. All the giddiness remained as my survival instincts kicked in like never before. I kept running while laughing as I heard Byrol and the other man chasing me, but it was tough escaping barefoot. I tripped on something and fell. The back of my head hit something, and I screamed. Pain hit me with force, and my body stilled. Yet, I was not scared. I felt something wet spilling from the back of my head. Despite that, fear was nowhere in sight.

I could see the sky wrapping over me. Sinister voices were getting closer, and I couldn't move my body.

I can't die, not like this, not when I had just begun to uncover the truth. But then, what was the point of living anymore?

I could feel my eyes getting heavy as the evils got closer to trap me, to kill me, though I wasn't sure exactly what they would do.

I kept staring at the star-clad sky, and then my sky changed. The star-filled sky was now replaced with something entirely dark, a mask so black. I had never seen this shade of darkness. I reached my arm upward with difficulty to reach the darkness, to touch it, to feel it, but my eyes kept growing heavy, and before I knew it, my arm dropped and my eyes closed.

That was surely my day of death, and that darkness seemed my partner to hell, because there was no place for murderers in heaven. And I was one—a murderer.