Double take
Chapter -4
Elvin picks up Dhruv's call after the 3rd bell. They are now in Dhruv's room with his laptop open, trying to look Aman up by themselves, but no luck; all his accounts were private. Dhruv considered letting it go, maybe it is not worth his time? But alas, his curiosity wins
As soon as he picked up, Elvin started venting about how rarely they get to talk and that Dhruv only called him cause he needed help.
"Uh okay, I will treat you to a drink if you help me out with this," Dhruv tries to convince him. Elvin's immediate enthusiasm to help them after this offer makes Arun snort.
"Ehh it's a minute's work for me, but I do love a challenge, wait for me, I will text you all his data " and he hangs up, and sure enough, after fifteen minutes or so, Dhruv's phone pops up with the notification.
He reads through the text aloud for Arun, "Aman Chavan, 21, from Vadgoan Maval, in Mumbai, to pursue higher studies with a 75% scholarship in BTECH, topped his district, hmm… interesting," Dhruv remarks.
"That explains his money problem," Arun comments.
"Wait, he's sending more information… Looks like Aman takes a part-time job as a waiter at some fancy restaurant to keep himself afloat. And on weekends, he works as a bartender at a bar owned by Abhishek Sharma. Fancy place too." Dhruv pauses, then frowns. "Oi, didn't he call this guy 'Abhishek sir' or something this morning?" He tries to recall.
Dhruv's reaction to this information is unknown to himself Does he feel guilty for prying? Does he admire Arun's determination? Maybe a mix of both
Arun leans back with a knowing smirk, watching Dhruv skim through the details. "Ohh, now this is interesting."
Dhruv barely looks up. "What?"
"The place Arun works at," Arun drawls, "It's not just some run-of-the-mill bar. It's the club. You know, the kind where people don't just go for drinks—they go for the scene."
Dhruv scoffs, "Huh, you thinking we should go there?"
Arun smirked, tilting his head. "It's Saturday… perfect night for it." He nods toward Dhruv's phone. "Tell Elvin you've got the perfect club to treat him at."
"You crazy bastard." Dhruv matches Arun's smirk.
----
That Saturday night, a fancy car stops in front of 'lord of the Drinks', a well-off club, where Aman works. Dhruv had to buy the membership, but it doesn't matter to him.
Four boys, dressed decently, came out: 'Dhruv', 'Arun', 'Elvin', and 'Rudra'. Rudra was a mutual friend of Dhruv and Elvin from high school. Elvin and he had only recently come in contact, so he invited him.
Rudra was a nice dude, and Dhruv had nothing against him. He was also a nepo kid, and he took after his father's well-off business.
The dim lighting, the rhythmic pulse of bass-heavy music, and the clinking of expensive glassware set the mood as they entered Lord of the Drinks. A few heads turned as the group walked in, their well-dressed presence fitting in seamlessly with the upscale crowd.
Dhruv wasn't particularly interested in the scene; clubs were nothing new to him. But despite himself, his gaze flickered around, searching—though for what exactly, he wouldn't admit.
Arun nudged him, "You're treating, right? Hope you didn't bring us here just to stare at the walls."
Elvin smirked, already scouting for a table. Rudra exchanged a look with him, then casually said, "We should get a spot near the bar. Better view, easier drinks."
Dhruv rolled his eyes but let them take the lead. As they walked further in, he caught a glimpse of the bar counter—a bartender moving swiftly, sleeves rolled up, the faintest sheen of sweat on his arms from the fast-paced work.
And then—Aman.
It was strange. Seeing him in this setting, where he wasn't the quiet tenant or the reserved college guy, but someone else entirely. Confident, quick-handed, utterly in control of his space.
Dhruv found himself slowing his steps, his brows raising slightly as he watched Aman pour a drink with effortless precision, nodding at a customer, then shifting smoothly to another order.
It was seamless. Efficient. Professional. And yet, there was something about it—maybe the way Aman's lips quirked in amusement at a patron's terrible joke or the way his fingers drummed against the counter when he wasn't mixing drinks.
For a moment, Dhruv almost forgot he wasn't supposed to be watching this closely.
He snapped out of it when a waitress came to their table asking for drinks. Everyone gave their order and passed their time by listening to Elvin yap.
Dhruv wouldn't want it, but every few minutes his eyes automatically found their way to aman at the nearby counter like a magnet.
"When will our drinks arrive?? It's been so long," Rudra complained, looking annoyed towards the counter, but then his expression changed.
"Damn," Rudra commented across from him. "That bartender's got the main character energy."
Arun gave him a look
Dhruv snorted softly, turning his face away. "He's just doing his job."
But his eyes? They didn't leave Aman for long.
"The waitress did seem a bit nervous, maybe she's new." Arun changed the subject.
"Hmm," Dhruv hummed in agreement, tapping his fingers on the table absently. His gaze flicked back to the counter.
The girl at the bar—clearly flustered—fumbled slightly while trying to balance a tray of colorful cocktails. She looked barely old enough to be here, her hands trembling as she set one glass down with too much force, causing a bit of the drink to slosh over the rim.
Aman, who was working beside her saw this and helped her arrange the drinks, whispering something in her ears, making her smile. She looked more confident now, she picked up the tray from the counter and started towards their table.
Elvin and Rudra looked at her like excited puppies, She smiled at them, a cute one. "Finally!!" Elvin cheered as she arranged their dinks in front of each of them. They all muttered a polite "thank you," and she looked proud of her work.
She went back to her work and everything was blurred by the loud music, until… Dhruv's eyes once again found their way back to the counter, where now, Aman was nowhere to be found and the new girl was working on a drink for a man who was obviously trying to flirt with her.
She was visibly uncomfortable with the man's gaze. Dhruv tried to ignore it, but he felt this itch by seeing that the girl reminded him of his younger sister Alina, and these two were almost the same age…
A loud voice cut through the air from the counter.
"Watch it!" the man barked out, pushing his chair back abruptly. "You spilled it on me! What is this—watered-down garbage?"
Heads turned. The music turned low. The girl stood frozen, eyes wide, while the man glared at his now slightly stained designer shirt.
The girl opened her mouth to apologize, but the words got stuck. Her hands trembled slightly as she fumbled for a napkin.
"Are you serious right now?" the man snarled, his voice rising over the music. "You ruined my Armani, you clumsy—"
"She didn't," a calm, steady voice cut in from behind.
All eyes shifted as Aman stepped into view, wiping his hands with a bar towel, expression unreadable. His tone was casual, but his eyes—sharp and burning—locked onto the man.
"You leaned forward while she was pouring," Aman said coolly. "Must be hard keeping your balance when your ego weighs more than your head."
The man blinked, taken aback. "Excuse me?"
The tension spiked instantly. The man's face darkened, jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists, like he was ready to throw a punch.
That's when another voice, calm and low, joined the scene.
"Is there a problem here?" Rudra slided calmly to the counter next to the man. Raised an eyebrow and simply nodded towards their table.
The man turned, only to see three boys watching him from a VIP table—Elvin casually sipping his drink, Arun glaring daggers beside him, and Dhruv, leaning back in his chair, eyes sharp and unreadable. The look on Dhruv's face was cold, bored even, like the man wasn't even worth his irritation.
The air shifted.
Dhruv didn't speak, but their silence said enough. The kind of silence that weighed heavy, powerfull, untouchable.
"You don't want to make a scene here. Trust me, it won't end well for you." Rudra muttered in his ears.
The man's bravado cracked. He glanced between Aman, the girl, and then back at the table.
He knew. He'd picked the wrong fight tonight.
With a grumble, he adjusted his collar, muttered something under his breath, and left the bar without another word.
The music turned up again with a new enthusiasm, a few tables even cheered at how things had turned out. But for Dhruv, it was all dimmed—like the volume had dropped just for him.
Because there he was.
Aman, behind the bar again.
And for the first time that night, he was looking at him, he wasn't moving, wasn't focused on the drinks or the crowd.
He was looking straight at Dhruv.
Not with anger. But with surprise. He didn't knew Dhruv was their until now.
And Dhruv, despite himself, didn't look away.
Aman blinked, tearing his gaze away from Dhruv when the girl tapped him on the shoulder to thank him. like snapping out of a spell. He turned to the girl and gave a short nod, composed again in an instant.
But Dhruv caught it. That brief moment of distraction. That subtle shift in Aman's usual calm.
And it stirred something strange in Dhruv's chest. Something he didn't want to name.