Part 6: Who is he?

Present day...

Aabhan backed away from the pool. He was on his way to meet his boss to hand him the reports he asked for when he found the hotel manager talking to Tushar. He opened his phone and made a note of their movements so far. There was something up with the two, and Aabhan knew he had to find out, but not today. For now, he walked to the bar.

They had been there earlier because Tushar wanted to check the place out. He had noticed him slipping a note to the bartender. It was too late to find out what.

Aabhan sat with his elbows on the counter, the base of his palms rubbing his eyes, wanting to block all the light for at least a moment. He pulled his collar loose, reclining in the air, testing how far he could go on this bar stool- when he stumbled and came crashing down. Then a hand shot out and grabbed his flailing arm and another, the back of the seat.

His eyes came to focus on an exquisite face- one that remained playful even when saving strangers plunging head first into oblivion. He was brought to earth with a slam and remained staring at the countenance in front of him even as his stool rocked with the impact. He noticed the name tag that labelled the personable man in front of him, Sarfaraz.

Sarfaraz was now grinning, a self-assured, satisfied and almost smug grin, one you wouldn't expect at the end of a tiring workday. Aabhan didn't notice when his grinning lips started moving.

"What would you like sir? Sir?"

Shaking himself awake, Aabhan said, "What do you suggest after a long, tiring day?"

"Depends on who got you tired, a girlfriend, a boss, a client?"

"Not into girlfriends actually. This happens to be an eccentric boss problem"

"That calls for my special drink, 'the boss blues', plus if you're on the lookout for someone it's the singles hour right now"

"I'll take up that drink, but I've got my eye on someone," Aabhan said, his eyes holding onto his gaze with a grip that matched. 

Splashing syrups and liquor into a Boston shaker, Sarfaraz could see his reflection in Aabhan's eyes.

"Sarfaraz! You're wanted by the party group in table number 5", someone from the side called out. Sarfaraz lay the drink down with a flourish and answered the call, his eyes not lifting from Aabhan for a second."Enjoy", he said moving down the counter to exit it.

Aabhan took a sip of his drink and felt its exotic flavour refresh him as he watched Sarfaraz make his way to the table he was wanted by. He watched Sarfaraz with his Boston shaker, laughing and joking with his customers. His arms were tense under his shirt, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, showcasing the veins of his forearm, bulging with exertion. He bent down to pour the drinks, and sweat dotted the back of his shirt and forehead from the exhaustion. When he turned around, he looked right at Aabhan as if aware of his gaze the whole time.

He held his gaze as he took off his apron and went out the side door, his shift finally over. Having finished his drink and feeling somewhat rejuvenated, Aabhan picked up his coat which he had slung carelessly on the stool next to him and walked to the door.

Outside the cool breeze hit his face and he closed his eyes to take it in when he heard a motorcycle whir across. He looked up to see a figure on a bullet race into the night, without a doubt it was one he could recognise.