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One
AGASTYA
Responsibility.
The word sat like a cloak of swords on his shoulders. He stared out at the group of people laughing, dancing, and straight out enjoying their lives and he felt…lost.
It was his sister Priyanka’s birthday and her husband, Aarush, had planned this ridiculously extravagant surprise party for her. Even as he watched, Priyanka threw her head back and laughed, her adoring husband bending to kiss her cheek and hold her close. In a corner of the large party space, his younger brother, Harsh, balanced a glass of alcohol on his head and danced to a song from the movie ‘Animal.’ Around him, a crowd of adoring women gasped and cheered like the idiot was performing a miracle or something.
Agastya had spent a lifetime ensuring this was possible. A lifetime of running interference for his younger siblings with their parents. A lifetime of stepping up to fulfill expectations so they didn’t have to. A lifetime of being good so they could be themselves.
Always good.
If ever there was a double-edged sword, it was that one. A loud peal of laughter had him glancing around. He knew whom he would see even before he caught sight of her.
Veda Gadde, classical dancer, wild child, and his sister’s best friend, had her own glass of vodka balanced on her head and was matching steps with his brother. She had on the shortest, tightest, hot pink dress teamed with silver, sequin studded high heels. Those shoes looked high enough to be stilts and yet, she moved gracefully, the sway of her hips and the flutter of her hands in the air, sheer poetry in motion.
She turned slowly, delicately, in a circle, and her gaze snagged with his. The room and its cacophony of noise receded around them, leaving the two of them in a little bubble of their own. Her ink black eyes, framed by the longest, thickest eyelashes ever seen widened slightly as she stared at him, a rosy flush darkening her creamy cheeks.
Her glorious mane of hair, thick, deep brown waves of it, fell loose around her shoulders and down to her trim hips. He wanted to fist his hand in it and yank her head back, devouring her mouth in a kiss that could drown them both.
Agastya swallowed, breaking their eye contact, forcing himself to banish the thought and the images it evoked from his mind. That way lay madness. Anything that led to her was madness. And Agastya Kodela had no place for madness in his life.
Always good.
He smiled indulgently as Priyanka came up to him and dragged him on to the dance floor. Dance had never been his thing. He had two left feet and the rhythm of a rhinoceros, a fact that didn’t bother him in the least. Politicians didn’t need to know how to dance. They only needed to know how to make others dance and, even that, to a tune of their making.
And then Veda joined their little group and the rhinoceros had a sudden yearning to be a gazelle. Irritated with his irrational flights of fancy, Agastya shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other, his gaze determinedly set at a point over the younger girls’ heads. When his PA beckoned him over, a phone held up in the air, he sighed in relief.
He murmured his excuses before walking away and taking the phone. Listening to the quick brief his assistant murmured into his ear, he strode out of the room and onto the terrace adjoining it. The crisp, cool night air soothed his sweaty brow, and he took a deep breath, appreciating the immediacy of the escape this problem offered him.
“Three hundred crores, Anna,” the weaselly voice in his ear said. “They can deposit it in the party fund tomorrow. Kodela saab can be assured of our support.”
“Good,” Agastya murmured, even knowing they were no assurances in this game they played.
He loved his work. He loved the people he worked for, the ones he served. What he didn’t love was the endless game of chess they indulged in to be able to serve for the public good. It was probably a good thing that he had always been good at chess. He’d even managed to make it to the state championships, but he’d ended up ranking third. His father had promptly ended his fledgling grandmaster title dreams when he saw the number three beside his name. If he wasn’t number one, his son wouldn’t be wasting time on it.
Suryakant Kodela did not accept losers. And his eldest son was not allowed to be a loser of any sort and to him, anything less than the first place was a loss. Kodelas did not lose.
More laughter burst out from the room behind him. Agastya glanced over his shoulder ending the call he’d just received. Disco lights streamed out and over the crowd of people partying, their joy and enjoyment of the moment seeming to be strobe lit for him to watch.
This seemed to be his lot in life. Always to watch, never to be a part of it. For Agastya had lost. He’d lost the chance at a normal life. He’d lost the chance at the simple pleasures that everyone else took for granted. He had power, prestige, money, things people spent their lives trying to earn.
But he didn’t have joy.
His assistant took the phone from his grasp and excused himself, leaving Agastya alone. Or as alone as he could be with his hulking Chief of Security standing in the corner and trying really hard to blend into the shadows.
“Are you having fun, Naresh Anna?” he asked the older man, smiling at the giant who was trying to look unobtrusive.
The other man smiled sheepishly. “Yes Sir.”
“Liar,” Agastya laughed softly. “Want to go home?”
He glanced at his watch. It was almost one in the morning. Surely he’d stayed long enough? It wasn’t like anyone would miss him if he left.
The sliding doors leading to the terrace whispered open on the heels of that thought and silvery, sequined heels stepped through.
“God, it’s hot in there.”
