Shit, I really did hit rock-bottom after shooting my shot, and failing. I became more depressed, which I found surprising, as I thought I’d hit the floor on that.

I couldn’t focus on anything. I felt like I was completely dead inside. And even though I felt like that, every time I thought about the rejection, I felt as if something was about to burst outta my chest. I just couldn’t take it anymore.

The monotony of waking up, slogging through classes, pretending like everything was okay. That crushed me day by day. Until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Forget climbing the peak—it was as if the peak was on top of me! It was suffocating, to say the least, and I wanted a change in my life.

And then it came.

“You know about the guy who’s friends with my bro?” asked Devesh one day.

“Yeah? What about him?”

“Gonna host a party in a farmhouse of his dad’s. It’s gonna be lit, maccha!”

Devesh was giggling like an idiot and grinning from ear to ear. From his face, I could tell—this wasn’t gonna be an ordinary party.

“And the reason?”

“He just felt like it, I guess…”

Spontaneity. From what I could gather, this guy lived life with spontaneity gushing all throughout his bloodstream. Suddenly, I was hit by a pang of envy. Why the hell couldn’t I be spontaneous?

Thinking critically, from the fact that he was hosting the party at his dad’s house, I thought it was safe to assume the guy was loaded. It’s easy to be spontaneous when you don’t have to give a fuck about money. But still, there was something alluring about being able to do things on a whim.

“And you are invited?” I finally asked.

“Bro, you know I am…”

“So, have fun, I guess…”

He shot a confused glance at me. “You’re not interested in coming?”

“Can I…?”

Devesh’s grin returned. “Only if you’re brave enough…”

“Okay,” I said in a neutral tone. “I’m down.”

And so, I waited. Two days passed by. I eventually forgot all about the party. And then came the DM.

“Bro, I asked him. He’s like “Okay, vouch for him, I’ll let him in.” So I said, “Yeah, he’s cool.” So… up for some fun on Friday, 9 pm?”

That was the gist of the flurry of messages that Devesh haphazardly typed out to me. Needless to say, I was hyped. Finally, there would be something new in my life.

The days till Friday passed by painfully slow. Like pissing away a kidney stone. And then came 9 pm. I impatiently waited for Devesh to call me, so that I’d know when to come out and catch a ride with him. But then, minutes flowed away like water in a river. 9.15, then 9.30, and then even 9.45 passed by, and still no call. Face it, he’s not coming, I thought. Bastard forgo—

—And then he called. “Bro, come outside. I’m a couple metres away, near the T-junction.”

“Da, it’s quarter to ten. We are almost an hour late!”

“See, bro, there’s something called being “fashionably late”. We’re right in that time-slot. We’ll show up 10, 10.15, and only then will the party be in full swing! Now get your ass here!”

I sighed. I prayed my first impression wouldn’t be the last one, too. “I’m going out with Devesh!” I called out to my mother. “Bye, Amma!”

“Bye, kanna. Stay safe, and come back from the film as soon as it ends.”

Yeah. That was the fuckin’ lie I told Amma. A film. Three hours. Begins 9 pm sharp. If I had really been going to one, it’d have already hit the intermission period. I started to worry—my alibi now had the potential to unravel… I hoped she wouldn’t catch on to the lie—

“—What’s the point of going now!” cried out my mother from her room, “It’s halfway done…”

Oh shit, I thought, there goes the alibi. I quickly thought of another lie to tack onto this one. Nothing… nothing came, until, a brainwave: “No, it’s fine. They’re saying that the first part is a bore, and that it only gets good from the second part. So, that’s that…”

“Oh, what a strange concept. Back in my day, they would bring the film on a rolling projector to school. We would see the film from beginning to end, and some would sit on the floor of the classroom even before the projectionist set up the reel! Ah, well, times change. Have fun!”

“Thanks, Amma! Will do…”

I left the house, and as soon as I was out, I huffed out air, and took a deep breath. As I whizzed off towards the T-junction, I couldn’t help but feel excited. Even when I lived in South Africa, I didn’t get the chance to attend a proper party. Like, no parental supervision, nothing. Adrenaline jabbed my diaphragm in spurts, till I felt woozy. And then, I spotted Devesh on his bike.

“Bro, hop on!” he yelled. I did as told, and in seconds we were zooming down the streets, and the city passed by in a blur. The trees and buildings started to intermingle, till the greenery took over the view on both sides of the road. We were in the wild lands now. City limits were now just a memory left behind.

Down the forest road, unlit by street-lights, we shot forward with only the headlight illuminating the path ahead. In the back of my mind, there was the fear of an animal straying in front of the bike, and killing us in a crash. But Devesh hurtled down like he’d been down this road a million times.

We reached the farmhouse with all limbs intact, thankfully. The gate had been swung wide open. I could see that there were a whole bunch of fancy cars and bikes parked near the house. BMW, Ducati, Royal Enfield… Devesh’s clapped-out Honda was painfully out of place. But he didn’t seem to give a fuck. He parked his bike near the only two other “average-Joe” bikes, which were hidden from view by the shadow from the big-ass palm tree which shot out of the middle of the driveway. I followed Devesh awkwardly as he sauntered over with swagger in his step. He playfully shot a finger-gun at the burly security guard who approached us. “Biju chetta! Remember me?”

Biju shot a fiery glare at me. I gulped, and slowly tilted my head away from him.

“Relax, he’s the friend I’m bringing along with me. Take it up with Daniel.”

The guard stared us down as we made our way to the door. Devesh opened the door with flair, and shot inside. I meekly followed him inside.

Upstairs was pure chaos. Shit was scatted all throughout, like a train disaster. Everyone was either milling around, dancing jerkily, or sitting on the couches or the floor, clearly either drunk, high, or both. There were beer bottles, chips packets, and other assorted trash all over the place. And then, I stepped on a condom. Used. I was glad I wore shoes inside.

At least now I knew that Devesh wasn’t lying about the “attractions”.

We walked into a dimly-lit room. Inside was three guys: Devesh’s brother, a guy with a hoodie, and some guy wearing shades, and draped with gold chains. He initially struck me as an insufferable asshole, but there was that certain… charm to him that was undeniable. He leapt to his feet upon seeing Devesh.

“Devesh, you lil’ bitch! Finally…”

He turned to face Devesh’s brother. “Suresh, guess who finally decided to show up…”

“Sometimes…” sighed Suresh, “I wonder why I brought this loser to that party way back…”

“Nah, bro. Both of y’all are party animals at heart. It’s in the genetics, yo!”

The guy turned to face me. I was uncomfortable as he inspected me from head to to. “Well… new guy, huh? Devesh’s homie from college.”

“Y… yeah…” I muttered, “Name’s Athul.”

“Well, Athul,” he handed me his hand to shake, which I did, “Welcome. I’m Daniel, the rich brat that funds this hedonistic escape from reality. Stick around for the main event.”

“What’s the main event?”

“That’s for you to decide…” he said with a cheeky grin. He plopped back down onto the sofa. “Is it the liquor? The drugs? Or is it the… umm, company?”

He chuckled at his own joke, and looked at me from the sofa. His outstretched arms shuffled over the head-rest as his fingers drummed on them rhythmically. “So, what do you think is the main event?”

“I dunno…” I started, “The vibe, I guess?”

“The vibe?”

“I mean, let’s say you enter a candy shop, and you’re a guy who loves every type of candy. What’s the main event? Just bein’ there, dawg!”

Daniel took off his sunglasses very slowly. He didn’t smile. I shivered. Did I offend the guy? I thought.

But then, he broke out into a fit of laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. As he struggled to compose himself, he pointed at me, and yelled, “I like this guy, Suresh. This man is an instant legend!”

I smiled, embarrassed yet proud, and stared at the floor for a while. My fears of a bad first impression? Vapours, mere vapours, like the marijuana smoke that circled around the entire crib.

The party got lit like a raging wildfire real quick. Soon after the convo with Daniel, actually. After that, Daniel got up and started hyping everyone up to start getting “loose”. He snagged a blunt from some passerby and handed it to me. “On the house, lil’ bitch…” he slurred. I sighed, took the blunt, and puffed.

For a while afterwards, everything intermingled with the haze in my mind. Nothing seemed real. Lights, sounds, and even time, the dreaded fourth dimension that is the yoke of humanity, squished together into an incomprehensible sludge of sorts. And it flowed on like sludge, slow in some parts, swift in others.

I finally woke up on the floor, after what seemed like ten minutes. But my watch read 2.32 am. “Shit…” I muttered, as I struggled to get upright. A hand clutched my left wrist, and helped me up. I turned to face its owner—Daniel.

“Dawg, you look like hammered shit.” he remarked.

“Daniel, bro,” I began, “where’s the coke?”

“Ran out. Pepsi okay?” he joked.

“No, not that coke. Cocaine. The white eel…”

“Ah, you wanna go late-night fishin’?” He paused and chuckled to himself. He gestured me to follow him. “Back to the room I first saw you in. Fitting, huh?”

From a drawer in that room, Daniel pulled out a baggie with white powder, which seemed to have the consistency of powdered milk. “Ever seen this shit up close?” I shook my head. “Fireworks, bhai… That’s what’s in store…”

A couple minutes later, a credit card has cut up lines on a mirror on the coffee table, five-hundred rupee notes have been rolled, and the final few guests who had not passed out were called. Including a couple of—how do I put this?—“stunning specimens”…

The chick in the black tee grinned devilishly at me, and waved. I waved back like an idiot. “Who’s this, Daniel?” she asked.

“A friend. Smart lil’ punk. You’ll like him.”

“We’ll see…” she crooned. She got down on her knees, bent over and picked up a rolled Rs. 500 note. She twisted it till the roll was tighter, then she placed it gently on her right nostril. She snorted up the first line, and her head jolted right back. “Ah, hell!” she shrieked, as her eyes shot up to look at the ceiling. An idle smile crept up her lips, and her pupils expanded to the size of raisins. Her breathing became heavier, she kept on running her hands over her hair. A look of pure ecstasy was present on her face. And in that moment, I envied her.

Daniel had an unusual way of using his dope. He tapped out a small bit on the black tee chick’s cleavage, and snorted it up. The chick giggled as he did so. Dammit, now I was double envious. Daniel took a while to suck in the bliss of the coke. And then he shot a glance at me. “Yo, you, uh, wanna give it a spin?”

“S-sure…?”

And that’s how I found myself in the exact same position as he was just a moment ago. I snorted up the coke, and got hit with a tidal wave of energy. Shit, the stuff was bitter as hell! Paracetamol seemed like candy in comparison. I went in expecting sweetness. Why? Well, ‘cause “coca”, the stuff they make coke out of, sounds a like “cocoa”, which of course makes chocolate—which is usually sweet. But shit man, were it not for the high, I’d have rather chugged a full pitcher of bitter gourd juice than use the dope.

Now, it didn’t matter. The coke was hitting up the dopamine receptors, and my body—after multiple rounds of alcohol and weed—was now energised. Too energised. Soon, I found myself putting my hands where I wasn’t supposed to without permission…

… I expected a slap, right then, right there…

… But instead…

She grinned, clearly a little heated from the touch, and turned to face Daniel. “Is the spare bedroom open?”

“Wanna take new boy for a spin?”

“Seems eager enough. Let’s see how he holds up…”

Moments later, downstairs, she was fumbling with my pants, and soon, I got the “wet package treatment”. My soul seemed to stretch out into the sky. And just as I was about to pull my pants back up—

“—Party’s not over…” she said, placing her hand over mine.

And no, it wasn’t over yet. She slammed me onto the door, and off went her skinny jeans. Off went everything else, too.

Shit, I thought, glancing at my watch, just a moment before she hopped on, it’s 3.13 am! I wondered what excuse I could cook up for arriving late to the house. I was cut off mid-thought by bliss beyond what words can describe. I moaned softly, unsure of what else to do to in honour of this… act.

I had hit the jackpot. Depression was miles away now. Depravity was on the menu.

And just like that, the night ended.