Chapitre 4: Chapter 4: The Distorted Dance
We caught another taxi, this time headed for the "Gaulava" Beer Bar. Within an hour, we arrived at our destination and unloaded our bags from the cab.
Aarohi and I followed Salim into a house, where we were introduced to a slightly overweight man.
"Hello, Shankar Bhai. This is Aarohi, the singer I told you about," Salim introduced Aarohi, who greeted Shankar with a Namaste.
"Hmm, and who is this?" Shankar acknowledged Aarohi's greeting before his attention shifted to me.
"This is Vipin, he's the backup singer in case Aarohi is unable to perform," Salim introduced me. I managed a smile when he referred to me as the backup.
"I won't be paying for him. This wasn't part of our agreement," Shankar replied, clearly unenthused by my presence.
"Don't worry about it. He will only get paid on the days he sings," Salim reassured Shankar, who nodded in response.
Once introductions were over, Shankar told us that there were five rooms available on the top floor for our use. I felt a wave of relief at the prospect of free accommodation.
With only ₹3500 in my pocket, I was in dire need of a job. I knew I wouldn't have a chance to perform any time soon.
As night fell, Aarohi had her first opportunity to sing, which turned out to be a letdown. It wasn't her singing skills that disappointed, but her song choice.
"Will she sing the same song every time? Does she not know anything other than this, or is this song so popular that she prioritizes it over all the others?" I wondered. Regardless, her song choice wasn't my main concern; my immediate problem was to find a temporary job. So, leaving the bar behind, I ventured out in search of employment.
"If you can't find a job, create one," I muttered to myself, spotting another bar across the street. The neon sign of "The Whiskey Barrel" cast a hazy glow onto the sidewalk as I neared it. A spark of an idea pricked my curiosity; perhaps it was time to shake things up a bit. With a plan forming in my mind, I crossed the road and entered the establishment.
I claimed a stool at the bar and ordered the least expensive non-alcoholic drink from their menu. My gaze swept across the room, landing on a group of five or six tipsy men, laughing and slurring their words. They were the perfect mark for my plan.
To my surprise, the men welcomed me when I joined their table. Playing along, I treated them like old buddies, mirroring their cheerfulness with my simulated camaraderie.
As the band began to play, I subtly started to criticize their performance. "What on earth is this guy singing? Talk about bad taste!" I commented, making a face. The men seemed intrigued by my remarks.
"There's a much better bar not far from here, with an excellent live band. That's where I'm heading next," I added, noticing their interest pique. "And no offense, but a male singer just ruins the whole atmosphere for me. At the other place, they've got a female singer. I've heard she's sensational, and the owner even lets patrons flirt with her. Now, that's my idea of a good time!"
Finishing my drink, I stood up from the table, leaving the men deep in thought. "Enjoy your drinks, boys," I said, a sly grin playing on my lips. "I'm off to paradise."
Barely containing my excitement, I quickly left the bar, hoping to reach "Gaulava" before the men. The image of them springing into action, my words resonating in their inebriated minds, delighted me.
Upon reaching Gaulava, I claimed a seat near the bar counter where Shankar was counting money. His gaze met mine with suspicion, as if he thought I was there to steal his earnings.
The group from "The Whiskey Barrel" arrived, sending a distinct buzz through the bar. Their attention was immediately drawn to Aarohi, the captivating singer on stage. I felt a pang of concern as I noticed her flinch under their leering gazes.
In unison, they nodded, affirming the scenario I had painted earlier. They ordered their drinks and lounged in their seats, their eyes boldly fixed on Aarohi. Mid-performance, an inappropriate whistle sliced through the bar's ambiance, causing Aarohi's voice to waver, her melody abruptly ending.
They rose to their feet, cursing loudly, and began advancing toward the stage. The sight of these bulky, intoxicated men approaching sent a ripple of fear through Aarohi.
I turned to Shankar, my voice laced with disgust. "Bhau, are you going to let this happen? I didn't realize this place had such low standards." Annoyed by my comment, Shankar reached for his phone. "Don't worry, I'll call the police."
I intervened. "Leave this to me," I stated confidently, rolling up my sleeves. Shankar looked surprised, but the determined look in my eyes made him stand down.
I then refocused my attention on the rowdy group. Their drunken eyes were clouded and unfocused. They seemed like unsteady predators on the hunt, but their prey tonight was ready.
As the group advanced towards me, I held my ground, standing tall in the face of their drunken hostility. The leader of the group, a burly man with a twisted grin, sneered at me.
"Thought we're going to have a good time, didn't you say that?" he slurred, his breath heavy with the stench of cheap whiskey, his words barely decipherable.
I stared back at him calmly, refusing to be intimidated. "And who's going to believe you?" I responded in a whisper.
His face turned an unpleasant shade of red at my words. But before he could retort, I added, "You guys are clearly too drunk. Perhaps it's time to call it a night?"
That was the catalyst for the situation to spiral. As the men lumbered towards me, their drunken eyes glazed and unfocused, adrenaline surged through me. My senses sharpened, my heartbeat accelerated.
Their inebriated movements were clumsy and slow, akin to marionettes manipulated by a novice puppeteer. I used this to my advantage.
Gliding with the grace of a dancer, I dodged their hefty, swaying bodies; my light footwork contrasted starkly with their blundering stumbles. I was the matador, they the drunken bulls, charging wildly and missing at every turn.
Beneath the alcohol-induced fog, there was a clear uncertainty in their eyes. I capitalized on this, intensifying their paranoia with a series of well-placed taunts.
"Whoa, careful now," I'd tease, nimbly sidestepping a lunge. "Your friend here seems steadier than you." With a sense of satisfaction, I watched suspicion blossom on their faces, their trust in one another faltering.
Their momentum proved to be their downfall. As one lunged forward, I skillfully sidestepped, letting his own weight carry him past me. When another threw a clumsy punch, I leaned back, allowing him to stumble forward due to the force of his own action.
Despite their size and number, I managed to evade any actual fighting. There was no need for punches or kicks, no need for physical violence.
Their drunkenness, combined with my quick thinking and nimble movements, enabled me to control the situation and guide this bizarre ballet to its conclusion.
In this distorted dance, the drunken men were the clumsy participants, and I was the agile choreographer, directing their movements to my rhythm.
Yes, it was a struggle, but it was also a performance of sorts — an exhibition of manipulation and evasion. And for the grand finale, I ushered them all out of the bar, my role as a makeshift bouncer flawlessly executed.
After considerable effort, I herded them out of the bar and into the chilly night air. They swayed on their feet, squinting at me. "Hey, what are you doing? You said it was fine," one of them slurred.
I simply stared back in response, my silence conveying more than words ever could. Realizing that the situation wasn't in their favor, the men grumbled and shuffled away into the night.
Inside the bar, I could see that the chaotic ordeal had left Aarohi visibly shaken. She stood frozen at the edge of the stage, her eyes wide and filled with lingering fear.
Approaching her gently, I wrapped her in a comforting hug. For a moment, we were simply two friends again, standing together amidst the silence of the aftermath. Initially, her body was rigid, but it gradually relaxed into the embrace.
My voice was a soft murmur in her ear as I attempted to reassure her. "Don't worry, everything is fine," I comforted gently. I could feel her draw a shaky breath against my chest, her fear slowly dissipating.
"These kinds of things can happen in places like this. You can't let fear take hold every time," I added, my words a soothing counterpoint to the evening's tumultuous events.
Gradually, Aarohi stepped back to look at me, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of gratitude. The blush that spread across her cheeks was a silent recognition of the trust and comfort she found in my presence.
Her smile was a soft, subtle manifestation, barely noticeable yet strikingly potent. It served as a wordless thank you, a mute recognition of how I had stood up for her that evening. However, I was left with a strange sense of regret.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone