‘Sakshi,’ I mumbled, mouth full of food. She let out a giggle; I must have looked a real sight. Rishi could not contain his excitement.

‘This is the girl from the train?’ he shouted. I blushed.

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling warmly, never taking her eyes off of mine. ‘I’m the girl from the train.’

11

JHANVI

The clear liquid warmed me from the inside. I ordered another, poured it into my empty water bottle, and walked over to Kavya. She was happily chatting to a group of influencers who were telling her how this festival was way better than last year’s. Tonight, they would launch a massive hot air balloon that would project lasers into the crowd. I looked at my friend; she seemed so happy and content. She handed me a gin cooler.

‘I didn’t say you couldn’t drink at all,’ she said, eyeing my bottle of water.

‘Thanks,’ I responded, feeling guilty for deceiving her. I sipped on the cooler, asking questions from the group about how they got into social media and how they grew their following. The vodka and two shots from earlier gave me more confidence than usual.

A tall man wearing a pair of jeans and a harassed look on his face walked into the marquee.

‘The A-listers will begin playing shortly,’ he shouted. ‘If you would all like to make your way to the VIP area within the next hour, that would be great.’

I turned to Kavya and told her I wanted to look around, and that I would meet her at the VIP area in thirty minutes. She protested, but I insisted that she stay and chat with her new friends. At the bar, I ordered another double vodka neat and poured it into my water bottle before exiting the tent. Outside, partygoers were dancing to the sounds of electronic music; the sky filled with smoke from the stage. A single DJ stood on the vast wood and metal platform, one arm in the air, the other pressing buttons furiously. I walked towards the Ferris wheel and placed my phone on my selfie stick. Posing, I took a few photos. I wanted a full body shot as well; I needed to give the impression that I had at least a crew of one to assist me with my styling and photography. Two men and a young woman in a skirt and crop top ambled past.

‘Excuse me,’ I touched the woman’s arm. ‘I love your skirt.’ She smiled warmly back at me, not offering the usual explanation of where she had bought it. ‘Would you mind taking a photo of me?’

‘No problem at all,’ she said. I handed her my phone, showing her how to set it to professional before taking the picture. I stood in front of the imposing Ferris wheel and smiled. For the second photo, I acted as if I was laughing, and for the third, I placed my hand on my hat and leaped into the air.