The Sleaze III

He was watching over his ward like a perfect invisible fairy god mother.
But things might get out of hand.
He walked over to where Randeep chatted up Wench as he giggled slurping his Rum and Coke.

Just like a moronic insipid wench, Sandeep thought.

He did not hate Wench.

God no.

Neither was he jealous of him. That would be unthinkable.
After all, all Wench had was potential and even if he became a bigger star than Sandeep, he would always remain pale in comparison.

Always.

‘Hey you.’
Wench could not figure for whom the greeting was meant as he seemed to look at both of them.

‘Sandeep! Meet Randeep.’

‘We know each other.’ Randeep flashed his shiny white teeth.

Wench thanked God for divine distraction. Now he could look below Randeep’s neck.

‘How are you Mr. Chaabra?’ Randeep offered his hand.

Wench was shocked but Sandeep seemed unfazed.

Maybe he didn’t hear. Oh please God. Please.

Everybody knew Sandeep hated to be called by his last name. He had beaten up his father for giving him a name he was ashamed of. He had sworn to God he would change it as soon as he started earning his own money.

He just stood there.
Then he smiled a wicked smile.

‘How are you Mr. Rajput?’ They shook hands.

I should have called him the cradle snatcher, he thought.

No wait.

Cradle Cannibal would be more like it.

Randeep Rajput was the city’s notorious sadist.

But he was what they call in the chatrooms, ‘Discreet’.

Ridiculously discreet.

He would find a victim only a few times in a year. Most of them unsuspecting out of towners.
Sadly he was made conspicuous not by his religious attendance at The Sleaze and the parties but by the fact that he never hooked up with anyone.

‘And with a great bod like that. Something’s got to be wrong.’, somebody once said.