Project Heart - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Junak woke up feeling like the happiest man on earth. He had never, in all his twenty-two years of life, felt such excitement at the prospect of getting out of bed, but here he was.
The sun was out, bright and cheery. The flowers were blooming and birds were chirping and everything was right in the world.
He wrote the song that would win him the Diamond Jury Award. And he and Dikhou kissed. And it was amazing. And he was happy. He could probably burst into song or something.
"Why is he grinning like that?" Banhi said at breakfast. "It's scaring me."
Niribili frowned at Junak. "Maybe he's coming down with some sickness."
"Aiyo, who's sick?" Grandma cried from the kitchen. Her husband, sitting at the head of the table, as usual, laughed and shook his head.
"No one is sick, Aita," Junak yelled back.
His phone lit up with a message. His heart lurched, then dropped when he found the text was just from Banhi –
are you LOVE sick????!!!!! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Junak was unable to hide his blush as he looked at her across the table.
Her eyes widened. Oh my god, she mouthed.
The minute breakfast was over, Banhi grabbed his arm and dragged him to her room. "Oh my god. Spill! Everything. All the deets."
Junak's grin was so wide it was hurting his cheeks. "So... last night, I finished the song–"
"You finished the song?" Niribili echoed as she walked into the room. "Well, let me see."
"Wait, babe, in a sec." Banhi threw an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. "He's pouring me some really hot tea."
"What tea?"
"Um..." Junak's fingers were twisting the strings of his hoodie. "Dikhou and I kissed."
Banhi squealed. "Oh my god! When, where, how?"
"Um... uh, last night. I went to show him the song. He kissed me. I kissed him back." Junak bit his lip. His face was on fire. "We... kissed for a while and then we went home. To our respective homes."
"Aaaah, I knew it!" Banhi cried. "And I'd called it. Called it, called it, called it." She was almost jumping.
Next to her, Niribili was deadly still, wearing absolutely no trace of excitement. Instead, she was frowning.
Junak's heart fell. "You disapprove?" he asked, already hating her for ruining his mood.
"No." Niribili sighed. "It's not that I disapprove but – what are you doing, Jun?"
It felt like a punch to his gut. He stepped back, defences up and ready for a fight. "W-What do you mean?"
"I mean," Niribili sounded exhausted as she pulled out of Banhi's hold and took a step closer to Junak, "look around you."
He did not understand. Or if he did, he did not want to acknowledge it.
"Ninety-nine percent of the people here are homophobic," she explained. "The one percent who aren't are probably just us. And Dikhou, he's either closeted or experimenting. Whatever it is, he's going to hurt you. And he lives here, Jun. Here. In this village. The village you're going to leave in a few days."
Junak backed away like a wounded animal. He felt small and weak. "W-Why are you saying all this?"
"Niri–" Banhi began, but her girlfriend raised a hand to stop her.
"Because," Niribili's eyes never left Junak, "I don't want to see you getting hurt. And I've seen enough of it, Jun. You deserve better."
"You have no idea what you're saying." Junak hated the way his voice quivered and his hands shook. "I'm happy!"
"For now, maybe." Niribili heaved, in poorly disguised frustration. "I've seen this pattern before. You always do this."
"Do what?"
"Settle for less."
That one hit a nerve. "You don't know the first thing about Dikhou," he cried.
"Yes, okay." Niribili held her calm, which further enraged Junak. "I'm not saying Dikhou is a bad guy. But just ask yourself, do you know what you're doing?"
Junak had never hated her more. He felt hot tears pool in his eyes. "I don't need to know everything. I don't need to plan everything. I just want to be happy." He was shouting but he didn't care. "I'm not like you; I don't have a nice girlfriend who loves me. I don't have anybody." Tears trickled down his cheeks. He roughly wiped them away. "You're not my mom that I need your opinions on what I do with my life. As my friend, I just want you to be happy for me. Clearly, that's too much to ask!"
"Jun–"
He couldn't listen to her anymore. He pushed past her and stormed out of the room. She did not follow but behind him, he heard Banhi say, "Seriously?" to which Niribili replied, "He's angry because he knows it's true."
Junak hated her. Hated her. He was so mad he wanted to break something.
He walked into his room and screamed into a pillow. Then broke down into tears.
He hated Niribili because he knew she was right. But he did not want to think about it. Not now, not that day. He would live in his fantasy as long as he could, Niribili could just go fuck herself.
She did not understand him anyway. She did not understand what it was like to be him – lonely and unloved. Someone was finally willing to hold him, why couldn't she just let him have that?!
It was the least he deserved!
It took him a while to calm down, after which he took a cold bath as if to wash off all the negativity. He focused on the memories of last night and told himself that it was enough.
It was enough.
He stayed clear of Niribili for the rest of the day. He sent the song to his friends who would be singing it and then discussed when and how they should record it.
He had just gotten off a call with Radha, his music producer, and was making his way to the kitchen when he came across his grandmother. She was holding a large bottle gourd in her arms. "Ah, Junak, will you go give this to Nibha if you're free?"
Nibha, Dikhou's mother. Meaning he'd have to go over to his house.
He hadn't seen Dikhou since last night. The guy usually showed up at least once in the morning, but now it was almost past noon and there was still no sight of him. Worry crept at the edges of Junak's heart, especially after what Niribili had said. Maybe Dikhou was regretting it. Maybe he was scared.
Or maybe... he was just shy?
Junak dreaded the answer but he still needed to know. So, he gulped and said, "Yes, Aita. I'll go."
A few minutes later, as he walked towards Dikhou's house with the gourd held in his arms like a baby, he wondered if this was a bad idea. Maybe Dikhou did not want to see him. Or maybe he would think Junak was being too forward and that would scare him away. Maybe Junak should just give Dikhou some time –
Junak lost his train of thought the moment he saw him.
Dikhou was sitting on the floor of the porch, cross-legged, with a thick book open in front of him. He was absently twirling a pen in his fingers as he frowned down at the open page. A frail, brown dog was lounging next to him, basking in the sunlight with its eyes closed.
Junak's heart sped up at the sight. He could still feel the lingering presence of Dikhou's body pressed against him, and the urge to reach out and touch that man again was near overwhelming.
He gulped it down and forced on a casual smile as he made his way across the lawn.
The dog raised its head and let out a lazy bark.
Dikhou looked up. His eyes widened and something flickered across his face, something that did not look like joy.
Great. He was definitely going to say sorry, last night was a mistake, let's never talk to each other again, bye.
Junak braced himself for it. He halted at the foot of the steps leading up to the porch. "Uh... Aita asked me to... give you this."
Dikhou scrambled to his feet, hastily closing the book and picking it up. "Uh, y-yeah. Yeah." He walked closer to Junak and stretched out a hand.
Junak pursed his lips and handed Dikhou the bottle gourd.
To say it was awkward would be an understatement. Junak felt nauseated by all the thick, uncertain tension around them. But he also wanted to step forward and press his lips against Dikhou's.
He did not, of course. He stood still, trying to gauge Dikhou's mood.
The dog kept watching them with pointed boredom.
"Uh..." Dikhou shifted on his feet, the vegetable hanging from his fingers. "Do you want to... come in?"
Junak searched Dikhou's face but came up with no hints as to what he was thinking. Goddamnit. "Do you... want me to go in?"
Dikhou looked like he wanted to run from the conversation. He refused to meet Junak's eyes and was fidgety in a way Junak had never seen him before. "You don't have to... i-if you don't want to."
"I didn't say that." Junak frowned. "I asked what you wanted."
"I..." Dikhou cleared his throat and stepped aside. "I would like it if you came in."
Oh, thank god! Junak was close to losing his mind. He smiled and stepped onto the porch. "I'd like it too."
Dikhou looked away but Junak could see the edges of his lips curling up into a smile.
Thank. Fucking. God.
As Dikhou led him into the house – the rooms were big and spacious and modestly decorated – the awkwardness seemed to dissipate. Maybe because Junak had a newer concern to address: meeting Dikhou's mother.
"Ma's not home so you don't have to look so terrified," Dikhou said over his shoulder as they walked into the dining room. "Sit." He gestured at the table where he dropped his book.
"I'm not terrified." Junak pouted. He pulled out a chair and sat down. He eyed the book Dikhou was reading: Biotechnological Applications and Other Approaches to Crop Breeding, the name read. Ugh. "I hope I didn't disrupt your studies."
"Nah." Dikhou walked into the kitchen, and when he returned, he was no longer carrying the bottle gourd. "Do you want tea?"
"Uh." Junak looked up and caught Dikhou's gaze. Thankfully, he was not as jittery as before, but he still did not feel like the usual Dikhou with his casual confidence, so Junak cut to the chase and said, "Only if we're cool."
Dikhou smiled then; it was a shy little thing that warmed Junak's heart. "We're cool."
"Sure?"
Dikhou nodded, then said, "Aren't we?"
He looked so adorably confused, Junak couldn't stop himself from beaming. "We are. Very cool."
Dikhou allowed himself to smile then, properly, as he visibly relaxed. "Okay." He sucked in a deep breath and let it out. "With or without milk?"
"Whichever you know to make."
Dikhou feigned shock and hurt. "Excuse me, I know how to make five types of tea."
"Ew, why? Assamese people don't even drink five types of tea."
"And you would know that how, exactly?" Dikhou challenged, smirking. "I only ever see you chugging down barrels of coffee like the American you are."
"Hey!" Junak cried.
It felt good, to be back to feeling like themselves. They bantered the whole time Dikhou made milk tea, and when they sat down to drink, a familiar comfort had fallen over them.
Junak was so relieved he thought his chest would burst.
"By the way." Junak wrapped his fingers around the cup, taking in the warmth. "You never told me what you thought about my song."
"Really? I thought I did."
"You didn't."
Dikhou was sitting in front of him. He was bashfully smiling into his cup. "I thought I made it pretty clear that I liked it."
Junak hated how he blushed at that. He rolled his eyes to save face and said, "Anyway. Uh. Are you free tomorrow, or the day after?"
"Depends."
Junak poked the rim of the cup with his index finger. "Free to go to Guwahati to record the song?"
Dikhou raised a brow. "With you?"
"I mean..." Fuck, his heart really needed to stop beating so fast! "The guys who helped with the music, they'll accompany too. Of course."
Dikhou put the cup to his lips. "Of course."
Junak couldn't tell if Dikhou was teasing him. "So? Are you? Free?"
"I'll have to confirm once with Ma," he shrugged, "but yes."
"Okay." Junak nodded. "You'll have to ask the guys too. If they're free."
"Sure, I'll ask."
"Thanks. Um, let me know by the evening? Then I'll coordinate with the singers."
"Who're the singers?"
"Two friends of mine." Junak took a sip of the tea, mostly to try and calm his nerves. "It was their idea that we write the song ourselves. Well, that and because we didn't know any songwriters who would've helped."
Dikhou looked tense as he placed the cup on the table and eyed Junak. "You're not scared of what people will say?"
Till two days ago, Junak would've thought Dikhou was curious. Now he understood the true depth of his questions.
He shrugged and then smirked, mostly to put up a brave front. "One can't be an artist without taking risks."
Dikhou smiled but it did not reach his eyes. "I'm sure your film will be great."
Junak did not like the sudden ache in his chest, the sudden chill running through his spine. Dikhou's words sounded strained. Uncomfortable.
Niribili's voice echoed at the back of his mind: What are you doing, Jun?
He returned Dikhou a forced smile and continued to drink the tea. It was delicious.