3.27am

It was 3 am. “I can’t believe we’ve been here this long. Time has flown by.” Her eyes sparkled in the light. He grabbed her hair pulled it down. Kissed her open neck. Fuck. Her phone began to buzz. It was the others. “Where are you,” he could hear the warbled voice from the phone to where he sat. It was that quiet outside. On each other again. Car passing by. He put his head down on her neck and rested it there. It felt nice. Then he licked it. She moaned. Holy fuck. Somehow her jacket brushed against him, the lights of her car next to them blinked. It unlocked. He laughed. They separated. He went back to the driver’s seat. Deep breaths. Otherwise, silence. The glow of the streetlights towering above still the same as it had been a few hours ago. She had her elbows on the space in between, her chin on her hands. She was looking at him, he looked in the rearview mirror, a rickshaw standing by the road. A man walking towards them. Clean face, kind of stocky, shalwaar kameez. It was 3.27am. He knocked on the window. She started and moved her body all the way in her seat. He looked towards the man and shook his head as if he didn’t understand. The man knocked on the window more insistently. He just stared at the man, willing for him to go away. He was a little irritated. The man rolled his finger, motioning for him to roll down the window. He turned the key in the engine, it roared and came to life. He pushed the button to bring the window down just an inch. “Lighter hai?” So ludicrous, he would laugh later. “No.” “Roll down the window.” “No.” The man hesitated. “Matches hain?” “No.” His nerves were calm. “Roll down the window.” Louder, more insistent, but nothing to be alarmed about. “No.” “Roll it down.” Angrier, louder. “Get out of here,” she almost whispered next to him. He put the car into reverse, the man standing by the window, blue shalwaar kameez, roared, and punched the side door - the car shook - as he put it into drive and left. Behind him, the rickshaw sputtered to life and started to follow. He turned left, and then turned right, trying to shake him off. The rickshaw, slow as it was, followed insistently. Not that slow, to be honest. He got out onto a main road, “i’ll direct you to where the others are.” At the other party? He looked at her. He looked in his rearview. The steady light of the rickshaw still behind them. Unblinking cyclops. He started laughing. This was hysterical. He had wanted to experience this side of Lahore. Alcohol and the like. He had gotten what he wanted and more. He kept laughing as he kept driving. “Turn here.” “Turn here.” Eventually they shook him off. “We need to go back. You left your car unlocked.” She guided him back. The streets were empty. They returned to whence they had began.