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He knew he was doomed since the moment he laid eyes on her for the first time in 2022. Don’t get him wrong, he was a stud. He was and always had been popular among women. His bisexual awakening came later in life, in the form of none other than his arch nemesis and the only person in his life who could spell ‘massacre’ properly, Rahul Gandhi. But he had always known that many people thirsted after him. Yes, regardless of their gender. He didn’t mind. He was well aware that women and homosexuals were the scum of the earth. But he blamed himself. If he didn’t want so many of them making heart eyes at him, he should have been less charming.
Speaking of charm, the woman he was shaking hands with was nice to look at. Sure, she was in her 40s, and could have done a better job at taking care of her skin, but it was much better than the faces of women he had to look at back in India. There’s a reason why he kept his wife hidden from the eyes of the world. The fewer people who knew about her, the less he’d be reminded of the fact that he had a spouse. How else would he maintain the image of being the ultimate fuckboy of India? He tried to fuck up the entire country, and still it wasn’t enough. Nothing he did was ever enough.
He sighed as he pulled himself back from drowning into his own misery and focused on tightening his grip on the hand of the white female standing in front of him. This woman was supposedly the prime minister of Italy. Wherever in America that was. People had clearly lost their minds there. Maybe she had a husband who was actually in charge. After more than 8 years as the Prime Minister of one of the least happy countries in the world, he had worked hard to let go of his biases. He couldn’t be prouder of himself. Maybe he could teach her a thing or two about leading countries.
He made sure to show most of his teeth as he smiled at her. Women like dominance. Strong handshakes. Undisturbed eye contact. Sharp teeth. Creepy gaze. All of this came naturally to him. He didn’t have to try hard. She looked at him and smiled, visible teeth and all. He was slightly put off by the crinkles around her eyes, which reflected her age, but he was feeling generous. Plus, the way she looked at him, all polite and professional- she was into him. Obviously. And who was he to deny her the pleasure of being ogled at by a powerful man in his 70s?
After that interaction on the stage, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He took out his smartphone, opened Google, and started typing in the search bar-
‘who is the prime minister of Italy’
‘Can women be prime minister in Italy’
‘Can women vote in Italy’
‘Can women vote in India’ (he was shocked to see the results)
‘Honourable PM of india Italy visa process’
His research came to a halt as his phone started vibrating in his hand. He always kept it on vibrate. It was unprofessional to have his phone ringing in the middle of his important meetings. And he liked the sensation of it against his thigh. He always asked his tailor to sew pockets into his pants slightly higher. Life-changing hack.
Anyway. He swallowed down his irritation at the interruption and narrowed his eyes at the incoming call notification. Oh no.
‘Haaalo’
‘Amit, why are you calling me?’
‘Did you forget that I’m always watching you? Who is that woman?’
‘Why do you care?’
‘WHY DO I CARE? You only come to me when it’s convenient for you. First when that ungrateful piece of ass Rahul rejected you. Then when you were worried you had grown fat. Then when your Botox started migrating. Who held you all those times? I DID. And now I have to watch you fall in love with a woman on live TV!!!’
‘Amit, calm down. First of all, Rahul did not reject me. I seemed like too much of a father figure to him so he stayed away, OUT OF RESPECT.’
‘What am I to you, Modu?’
Amit’s voice shook as he asked this question. The vulnerability in those words caught Modi off guard. He should have never picked up this call.
‘I can’t do this now. We’ll talk when I’m back.’ His words left no room for argument. ‘You know I need to see your face when we’re having this conversation.’ He added softly.
He could clearly hear Amit hyperventilating on the other end. That annoyed him and he hung up on his long-term FWB.
He had to get this shit under control. Amit had seen him on the TV and noticed the sparks between him and Miss Melon, which meant the entire world was privy to the interaction. He felt a surge of nervousness, but also excitement. The entire world saw how he had charmed this woman and made her fall madly in love with him. The journey ahead was not going to be easy. For instance, he still couldn’t find Italy on the map of the US. Maybe it was in south America? He shuddered at the thought. Yet, the fact that a woman has to carry the burden of making a relationship work comforted him. All he had to do was express his interest and make Miss Millon think that she was important to him. Then he could just sit back and relax. And if it didn’t work out, he could always go back to Amit. He could text her from Modi’s phone and make her feel wanted. Amit was clearly the better texter among them.
With the plan clear in his head, he felt much more at ease. All he needed to figure out was the first move. He had made many first moves till now. He reminisced about his memories in Gujarat. That always brought a smile to his face. This time though, things were different. He could not be so direct. As he was thinking, he saw Miss Meloncholy walking across the hall. She went to the buffet of extravagant snacks displayed for all the dignified guests. He watched her closely as he needed to see what food she chose. He prayed to God for her not to pick up anything with over 50 calories. He would have no other choice but to let go of this pursuit if that happened, and he truly wasn’t evil enough to let that happen to her. She was already too attached to him!
He let out a sigh of relief as she picked out a thin slice of carrot and a pea-sized chocolate. Although he would prefer if she didn’t eat in public at all, this, he could allow. Looking at her taking a tiny bite of that chocolate suddenly spun the wheels in his head. She liked chocolate! And her name was Melody! He was a fucking genius.
He took out his smartphone again. Grinning to himself, he added the cheapest bag of Melody chocolates to the cart on Blinkit. Although he was disappointed that you can’t buy single pieces of the candy, he convinced himself that this investment would be worth the 50 rupees.
Across the hall, Miss Modi looked at him and waved.
His heart stopped. Blushing hard, he hesitantly waved back at her.
She started walking towards him. He held his breath as he waited for her to come and fall at his feet.
She was coming closer. She was so close that he could smell her perfume. He could only hope that it would be lotus.
She walked straight past him.
His face fell like a deflated balloon. He turned around to see who she was waving at.
Fuck Macron.
In that moment, his smartphone began vibrating against his crotch.