C3 3

Two months passed by in a blur. Mithran preferred staying at the apartment he bought recently rather than staying home with his parents. There had been no improvement with things at home. Both his parents remained adamant and waited for the other to come up and talk. Mithran had decided to leave them to their own devices. They had lived all their lives on lies and misunderstandings; they are welcome to continue that.

"Good morning, Mithran," he heard Shravan greet him as soon as he stepped into the floor of the building where their office is located.

"A very good morning, Shravan. Looks like you are late once again. Late night, huh?" Mithran teased. He absolutely loved teasing Shravan.

The stuffy, silent Shravan Maheswari had always been serious and focused on his academics and career. He had met Shravan during his college days. Mithran and Abhay did their schooling together and have been friends forever. Shravan was the new addition to their friendship. In the beginning, he had, like everyone, thought that Shravan is a rich, arrogant brat. But later, they understood that the man was simply silent. And it was fun watching the crimson hue spreading across his neck and cheeks when anything related to his wife Drishti was mentioned.

"Shut up," Shravan hissed, making Mithran laugh out loud.

"So, what are your plans today?" Mithran asked as he sat opposite Shravan in his cabin.

"What else? Work," Shravan said, making Mithran roll his eyes.

"Boring," Mithran said.

"What else are you planning to do, Mithran? This is a working day," Shravan pointed out.

"I am heading out for a site inspection. From there, I will be going directly to the tracks," Mithran said. Tracks is the place where he participates in racing. He is an adrenaline junkie. He thrives on adventures and risks. Racing is his favorite sport.

"Pierre called? You have a race today?" Shravan asked.

"Yes, at four in the evening," Mithran said.

"Be careful, Mithran. I don't know why you are so keen on taking risks like this. Why do you always have to put your life in danger?" Shravan asked for the umpteenth time.

"What will happen if the fan above your head falls off now?" Mithran asked, making Shravan frown.

"Why would it fall off?" Shravan asked in confusion.

"There is no guarantee that it will not fall off. It could fall off anytime and take your life as easily as it could be taken during a race accident," Mithran said.

"You always have an excuse," Shravan said.

"It is not an excuse, Shravan. The simple truth of life. There is no real guarantee for anything," Mithran said, shrugging.

"I'm not going to argue anymore. I hope you will see sense soon," Shravan said.

"Aye, Captain," Mithran said and bid goodbye before leaving for site inspection.

"So, you know the rules?" Pierre asked loudly.

Mithran sat on his favorite sports bike, with his helmet and hand gloves on. He could feel the adrenaline kicking in at the thought of the upcoming race. They were on the outskirts of Bangalore, in an abandoned village with ruins of once-lived-in houses around. There were no clear tracks here. They were to race through the untarred roads with blocks in the forms of ruins of old buildings and trees. And that just adds to the thrill. He is very thankful that there are not many people around. Yes, he loves adventures and thrills, but he prefers not to hurt innocent bystanders.

"Mithran, Mithran, Mithran!" he heard the cheers for him and waved a hand towards the people supporting him. Today, he was betting against a racer from Delhi.

"Okay, boys! Focus," Pierre announced through the bike, and Mithran kick-started his motorcycle.

"Three, two, one, Go!" Pierre screamed through the microphone, and Mithran accelerated the motorcycle, moving forward. The adrenaline flowed through his veins, pumping more blood into his brain, making him move forward with more speed.

Mithran stopped the motorcycle with a screech at the finishing point just one second before the racer from Delhi.

"Mithran!" he heard the loud scream and saw Tanya Reddy, the daughter of one of their investors, cheering for him. He groaned inwardly seeing the girl. She is pure evil and claims to be in love with him. Well, she is in love with the bad boy image of him. Well, girls have a tendency to be attracted to bad boys. Not that he is complaining. He loved it when he got attention from girls. He had been a hit among girls during his college days because he has been a sports star. But he could do without Tanya Reddy's attention. She is annoying as hell.

"And the winner again is none other than your favourite, Mithran Yadav!" Pierre announced, and the people cheered more. Pierre handed over the bet money he won by the race. He began street racing during his college days to earn pocket money. His father was a normal government employee with a moderate salary, just enough to educate him and look after the family. Any more money, he had to earn himself. That's when he had met Pierre, the racing agent, who had introduced him to the world of street racing. The small amount of money he makes out of betting gives him more satisfaction than the millions he now makes from his business.

His phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts. He hesitated before attending the call because it was his mother. Nowadays, she calls only to complain about his father. He is tired of listening to it. He thought of ignoring the call but then decided to attend it anyway.

"Mithran," he heard his mother cry from the other side.

"What is it, Amma?" He asked, waiting for her to launch into her next set of complaints.

"Come to City Hospital. Your father is hospitalised. I don't understand what they are saying. Come soon, please."

All blood drained from his face hearing the news.