Chapter 10: When Dignity Becomes a Question
8:30 PM.
The backstage of a pub is a strange place. Here, the scent of dreams and the stench of fear blend together. The faces of the team hung low, like soldiers returning from a lost war.
Arin took off his denim jacket. A streak of sweat glistened on his biceps. He picked up his guitar—his only weapon.
He went and stood amidst the team. His eyes held a fire capable of burning down a forest.
Arin gathered everyone in a circle. His voice was a whisper, yet no less than a roar.
"Listen up, brothers!" He looked into everyone's eyes.
"Last night we were 'Background Noise'. Today, we have to become the 'Soundtrack'."
He placed a finger on his chest.
"Those people sitting outside... they have come here to drink alcohol, not to listen to music. We have to hack their 'Subconscious Mind'. We have to play so 'Raw' that their hands tremble before they can even lift their glasses."
The team's drummer nodded. Arin's words were intoxicating.
"Today we will play 'Fairytale'. But don't consider it just a song. Consider it the noise of your own broken stories. Play in such a way that whether the guitar remains tomorrow or not, the echo of today must remain."
The manager standing in the corner was watching this. A faint smile appeared on his stern face.
(Manager's Mind)
"This is why I chose him. He doesn't just have talent; he has that 'Crazy Aura' that drives people mad."
The team stepped onto the stage. The lights were still dim.
Arin took his position in front of the mic. He closed his eyes for a moment and bowed to that 'darkness' which had brought him here.
"Just handle it today," he mumbled.
The signal came. One... Two... Three!
The music started. That fast, piercing melody of 'Fairytale'.
At first, the crowd didn't pay attention. But then... Arin attacked the guitar strings.
He wasn't just playing; he was 'Bleeding'.
A memory was attached to every single chord:
First Chord: The feeling of his mother's hand slipping away.
Second Chord: The cold floor of the station.
Third Chord: The fire of hunger.
And that High Note: Priya not looking back for the last time.
Arin's face was drenched in sweat, hair falling into his eyes, but he didn't stop.
His pain transformed into music and began to float in the air.
A strange phenomenon occurred in the pub.
People who were talking loudly fell silent. Those looking into their phones lifted their heads. Glasses froze in mid-air.
The noise turned into silence. A silence that screams.
The manager was watching from afar.
"Oh God..." he said softly. "This boy isn't just playing... he is wringing out his very soul."
The song reached its Peak. Arin closed his eyes and struck the final string. Zhannnnnn!
The music stopped.
One second. Two seconds. Silence.
And then—Thunder!
Applause. Whistles. Uproar.
The entire pub was on its feet. People were going crazy. The sound of applause was like rain, soaking Arin's parched heart.
Backstage.
The entire team surrounded Arin as if he had returned after winning the World Cup.
"Brother! What did you play! You set the stage on fire!"
The manager came. He placed a heavy hand on Arin's shoulder.
"Proud of you, Arin. Today you proved that I chose a diamond."
Arin wiped his sweat, took a sip of water, and threw his signature 'Crooked Smile' towards the manager.
"The world doesn't bow on its own, Sir, it just needs someone to make it bow,
To steal the show, you don't need money, just this 'Arin-style' courage now!"
Then he hugged his friends.
"Friendship isn't just about clapping hands,
Friendship is what turns a falling 'Zero' into a 'Hero' as the night stands.
Today's credit goes to all of you."
He kissed his guitar.
"My 'Aura' doesn't depend on any perfume. It is a crown forged in the furnace of struggle, invisible to the eye but shining bright."
The cold air outside the pub dried his sweat.
Arin ran straight to Nainu, who was sleeping in the bicycle basket.
"Get up, Shera (Lion)!" He picked Nainu up and spun him in the air.
"Look! Today your brother conquered the flag. All of them... everyone was clapping for me. Your brother has truly become the 'Main Character' now!"
He was laughing. His chest swelled with pride.
But then... a 'Flash' occurred in his mind.
A face. Wet eyes. And an empty bench.
Priya.
Arin's laughter stopped suddenly. As if someone had hit 'Pause' on a playing song.
He stood by the roadside. The noise of the pub was coming from behind, but inside him, there was a silence like a graveyard.
(Arin's Mind)
"So much applause... so much money... so much name.
But then why is there this 'echo' inside?
Is every victory incomplete, if that 'special' person isn't there to celebrate it?"
He put Nainu back in the basket. His hands had gone cold.
"Let's go home, Nainu," he said softly. "The party is over."
Days passed.
Arin's life fell into a 'Set Routine'.
Wake up in the morning. Go to the Academy. Sweat it out. Become a star at the pub in the evening. Return home alone at night.
In the eyes of the world, he was 'Successful'. He now had good clothes, Pedigree for Nainu.
But his nights? They were still spent on the roof, spouting philosophy to the stars.
Arin was sitting on the ledge of the roof. The guitar was in his hand, but he wasn't playing.
(Arin's Mind)
"Life is such a 'Scam', man.
When pockets were empty, I was searching for peace.
Now that pockets are filling up, peace has 'Unfriended' me.
Maybe this is the Almighty's rule—"
He looked at the moon, which was half-full today.
"If you want 'Fame' (Shine),
Then 'Loneliness' (Darkness) comes complimentary with it.
It's a package deal, brother, no returns allowed."
Nainu came and lay down beside him. Arin placed his hand on Nainu's head.
"We are all heroes of our own movies, Nainu," he plucked a guitar string very softly.
"But we shouldn't forget that not every movie has a 'Happy' climax.
Sometimes... just sometimes, 'Incompleteness' becomes our most beautiful story."
The echo of the string dissolved into the silence of the night.
Arin closed his eyes.