I'm pacing in my room, the phone pressed against my ear, while Maha's voice crackles through the line. She's going on, as usual, about something that probably makes sense to her and sounds utterly chaotic to me. Her excited words are like bursts of sunshine, infectiously bright, but I'm not sure if I'm in the mood to soak them in.
"Rhino, it's flawless! Should we show up at the next event wearing matching colors? I mean, we are supposed to be dating, right? It'd be cute, andâwait, no, not cuteâhot," Maha rambles, her voice climbing as she gets more into the idea. "I'm thinking deep red or maybe something navy blue, and then people will totally buy the whole fake dating thing! We'll look like the power couple of the century. What do you think?"
I stop pacing and rub my temple, letting out a sigh. "Shut up Maha we're not living for a century"
She lets out a dramatic gasp. I can almost picture her clutching her chest, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me.. Mera irada eik sau Saal jeene ka hai Tum budhe hoge to bhale chale jao upar"
(Excuse me.. I'm planning to live for hundred years, you're old so you can die soon)
I shake my head, though I know she can't see it. Her idea that life is all about rainbows and flowers, gives me second hand embarrassment. "Will you please shut up? My neurons have shifted their positions after hearing your non stop rambling"
"Thank me then, the previous position was too grumpy and shallow" she teases.
I roll my eyes. Classic Maha. "Was I supposed to laugh?"
She laughs, the sound light and carefree. "Yes, but we both know you're incapable of doing that"
Before I can respond with something snarky, the door to my room swings open, and my mom walks in. I tense, instantly. It's like my body reacts before my brain even registers. She looks at me, a frown already forming on her face. Great. Just what I needed. Why does she have to burst into my room everytime just to insult me.
"Rayan," she starts, her voice clipped, "unlike your date with Mariam, I want you to be at your best behavior with her"
I clench my jaw, tightening my grip on the phone. "I told you, I do not want to do anything with her. She's not my type."
Maha's voice fades into the background as my mother steps closer, her disappointment radiating off her like a cloud of suffocating perfume. She crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing.
"You will date her, Rayan," she says firmly. "And that's final. I don't want any more arguments from you. I've let you run wild with this football nonsense for too long. It's time you start thinking about your future."
My future? What she means is her future plans for me. Football, my passion, my lifeâshe's never accepted it, never understood why I'd choose something so "trivial" over the plans she's laid out for me.
I open my mouth to retort, but she's already spotted something on my desk. Her gaze lands on a flyerâan international football contest taking place at my university. Her lips press into a thin line, her disapproval hitting me like a physical blow.
"This again?" she mutters, picking up the flyer and holding it like it's something offensive. "Football. You're still chasing this ridiculous dream? When will you learn that this is a waste of your time, Rayan?"
My fists ball at my sides. Every muscle in my body is screaming to lash out, but I know it'll only make things worse. "It's not a waste," I say, my voice low but firm. "It's what I want to do."
"What you want to do," she mocks, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're a smart boy, Rayan, but you're wasting your potential on a sport. A sport that won't take you anywhere."
I bite the inside of my cheek. We've had this conversation a thousand times, and every time, it's the same... her belittling my dreams, her trying to shove me into the mold she's created for me. But I won't fit. I refuse to fit.
"Thank you mom for your advice, anything else you want to say?" I say through a stern face. At this rate, I'd like to nominate myself in the category of certified stubbornness.
She looks at me like I've just said something really insulting. "Rayanâ¦"
I release a long breath of relief, thankful that Maha didn't hear the heated exchange between me and my mom. At least I've avoided her dramatic reactionâthough I doubt sheâd care much about my family's endless complications.
It's the day of exchanging metallic promises, namely (Zaid and Ayra's engagement) our families have a really questionable mindset, here- I am forced to date someone I'm not familiar with and Zaid is getting engaged to Ayra. It's almost.... almost funny, how some of us yearn for the love of our parents but end up being a step towards business achievements.
Don't get me wrong... It wasn't always like this. Being the only son, I was a golden child, my great mathematical and communication skills made my parents imagine my future as a leading CEO. It all changed when I brought forward my wish to become a football player and things haven't been great since then. The bright, favorite Rayan Khan turned into disappointing and unwanted Rayan.
There arrives some moments that tangles me in the intricate knots of insecurities, leaving me to handle an unfathomable balance, whether choosing football was best or worst decision.
Oh I love it and I hate it at the same time.
Shaking off the thoughts, I leave my room and step into the chaos of my house. The place is a whirlwind of activityâmen barking into their phones, making last-minute arrangements, while the women are running around, getting props ready for the engagement photos and videos. My sisters, Ayzal, Zainab, and Zahra, are in the corner, taking endless selfies in their pastel-colored dresses, all laughter and excitement. They look up when they see me, flashing wide smiles, but I'm not in the mood to engage, thanks to mom.
"Looking good, bro!" Zahra calls out, teasingly.
I offer a faint smile. "Thanks."
As I make my way through the house, I notice the decorations being finalizedâstrings of lights, flowers, and fabric draped everywhere, creating a festive yet suffocating atmosphere. It's a beautiful cage, I think to myself. Perfect for trapping us all in these roles we never wanted.
I head toward the room where Zaid is getting ready. He's probably having a meltdown right now, knowing him. I push open the door and step inside.
Sure enough, Zaid is standing in front of the mirror, adjusting his sherwani for the tenth time. His face is a mixture of frustration and nerves. Ayan is sprawled on the couch, grinning like he's been waiting for this moment all his life.
"I've already decided on the caption" Ayan says, his voice filled with mock seriousness. "Visiting the wedding of our very own enemies... waiting for kids"
Zaid shoots Ayan a glare. "Shut up Ayan! I'm not having kids"
Ayan raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "What the Fuck! Are you infertile, gay or what?"
I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. This time even I can't help but let out a chuckle.
Zaid groans, running a hand through his hair. "No bro! I'm perfectly straight what I mean to say is I'm not having kids with AYRA"
Ahad is sitting by the window, quiet as usual. He's not really participating in the conversation, though I catch him glancing at his phone from time to time, clearly distracted by something. Or someone. Definitely Hoorain.
"Love is pathetic Ahad isn't it?" I say, arching an eyebrow.
He looks up, not even startled. "Not until it's your turn to love"
Ayan bursts out laughing. "For god sake guys can we please focus on the groom right now?"
Ahad narrows his eyes at Ayan but doesn't respond, which only fuels Ayanâs amusement.
Zaid, meanwhile, is pacing back and forth, clearly on edge. "This is insane. Iâm about to get engaged to Ayra. Ayra! The girl whoâ"
"âruined your life and stole all your academic glory?" Ayan finishes, smirking. "Yes, yes, we've heard the story a million times."
Zaid groans again but Ayan is swift enough to throw another questionable idea, "Zaid Chalo bhagte hai"
(Ayan let's run away)
I push off the wall and walk over to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Tum apni Shaadi p bhagna yaha uncle Haris Zaid ki qabar bana denge"
(You can have an eloped wedding but for now uncle Haris will bury Zaid here)
"Mein to shaddi bhag jar karunga" Ayan Snickers.
(Obviously I'll have an eloped wedding)
Zaid groans, burying his face in his hands again. I can't help but feel a little sorry for him, though it's hard not to find the whole situation amusing. Here we are, three grown men, teasing our cousin on the day of his engagement to the girl he used to despise.
But amidst all the banter, I feel a familiar sense of detachment creeping in. I'm here, physically present, but my mind is elsewhere on the conversation I had with my mom, on the weight of expectations pressing down on me, on the fact that, despite everything, I still haven't figured out how to make my own path.
I glance at Zaid, who's muttering something about how unfair life is, and then at Ayan, who's grinning like he doesn't have a care in the world. Ahad is staring out the window, lost in his thoughts, probably picturing Hoorain.
And me? I'm still stuck in the same place I've always beenâfaking smiles, playing along with the roles assigned to us, while the things I actually want remain just out of reach.
Funny how life works.
Ayan mutters something and leaves before winking at us, I'm sure he's about to do something totally unpredictable. Honestly, I wish that he stays like this.... I wish life don't snatch his innocence and make him vulnerable.
I stand outside Ayra's house, leaning casually against my sleek, black car. It's night time, the shine of the moon is causing the street to light up. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I take a deep breath, thankful for the weekend. Online classes at Aurelian University were a pain todayâlong and dragging, but I managed to survive, and now here I am, waiting for the girls to come down so we can head to Zaid's engagement.
I run a hand through my hair, feeling a bit restless. I suggested bringing them to the hall directly, thinking it would save us time, but now I'm wondering how long this "getting ready" thing is going to take. Girls and their endless preparation.
Sighing, I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find hazel's name. A grin spreads across my face as I hit the call button. Time for some fun.
She picks up after a few rings, her voice laced with suspicion. "Kya maut agayi?"
(What's wrong?)
I chuckle, already knowing she's bracing herself for my nonsense. "Tumhe na dekhne ki"
(Of not seeing you)
"Too cheesy ," she shoots back without missing a beat. "Why did you call?"
I smirk, picturing her rolling her eyes. "Uff Naya don't be so rude, there will come one day where your day will start from me and end on me"
"Andhi na hojao?" she says, her tone dry. "Kitni larkiyo ki subha or shamein tumse hoti hai?"
(Shouldn't I go blind?)
(How many girls consider their mornings and evenings with you)
"Umm never counted" I glance down at my tailored suit, feeling more than confident. "Don't even want to because now it's only you"
"Shut up" she says, and I can practically hear the smirk in her voice. "Maybe I should tell Ayra to cancel your chauffeur service."
"Please. You know you'd miss me." I pause, letting the teasing hang in the air for a second. "Now, come on down, Naya. Or do I need to come up there and drag you out myself?"
"Try it and see what happens, Ayan," she fires back. "I'll be down when I want to till then you can call one of your girlfriends"
She hangs up before I can reply, and I chuckle, pocketing my phone. Classic Inaya. Always ready to roast me, never backing down from a challenge. I can't help but admire that about her.
I chuckle to myself, pocketing my phone as her words echo in my mind. "Call one of your girlfriends," she says, like that would ever be a substitute for the chaotic fun I have with her. There's something about the way Inaya changes around me, she's all sweet and innocent with others, but with me? She's sharp, fiery, and full of sass. It's become a little game of ours, and I've come to relish every bit of it. She's not just Inaya to me anymore. She's my feisty, cute Hazel.
My eyes drift up to the second-floor window of Ayra's house, where I catch a glimpse of movement behind the curtains. It's her room, of course, where all the girls are undoubtedly making last-minute adjustments, probably laughing and fussing over their looks. My grin widens. The thought of those four huddled together is enough to make me wonder how long they'll keep me waiting down here.
But then, something catches my attention, just outside the window, leaning casually against the house, is a ladder. It's probably been left there after the decorators used it to hang garlands or set up the lights. A very convenient ladder, indeed.
An idea forms in my mind, and I can't help but smirk. Should I? It's not like I haven't done worse. And let's be honest, what's life without a bit of fun?
I take a quick look around, making sure no one's watching. The street is quiet, and the house is bustling with preparations inside. Perfect. Without another thought, I walk over to the ladder, glancing up at the window again. I know it's risky...if Ayra or one of the other girls sees me, I'll probably get yelled at, but the temptation is too strong to resist.
Grabbing the sides of the ladder, I start climbing, keeping my movements slow and quiet. The metal creaks slightly under my weight, but it holds steady.
I'm halfway up the ladder when I start to imagine the looks I'm going to get once I pull this off. I'll knock on the window like a retro Bollywood star.... Oh god someone please play 'ye Kya BAAT hai AJ ki chadni mein'.
I keep going, step by step, trying not to make too much noise, though I can't help but think how hilarious it'll be when they all see me.
"Ayan."
I freeze, hand gripping the ladder, halfway between pulling a cool move and crashing down like an idiot. That voice. The one with just the right amount of sass to make me regret all my life decisions.
I look down, and sure enough, there she is. Inaya. Standing at the base of the ladder, hands on her hips, looking up at me like I'm the world's biggest idiot. Which, at this moment, I kind of am.
Her eyebrows are raised, her lips twitching as if she's fighting a smirk, but her eyes oh...those hazel eyes...are giving me a look that says, Seriously?
"Well, this is awkward," I mumble, more to myself than her.
"Ayan," she says again, drawing out the syllables of my name in that way that tells me she's about to unleash a hurricane of sarcasm. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? I knew you were an idiot but this much"
I grin, trying to salvage whatever cool points I've got left. "Umm let's not focus on these useless things... May I just say how beautiful you look from this angle"
She raises an eyebrow, completely unimpressed. "Uhhhh, instead of waiting downstairs like a normal human being, you decided to become a spider"
"It's Ayan's style hazel" I correct, as if that makes any difference.
Inaya rolls her eyes and slightly kicks the ladder, causing me to fumble "nayuu I'd fall"
"Good!" she retorts, smirking up at me.
And, of course, she's right.
I feel my foot slip, and the ladder decides it's had enough of my antics. Before I know it, gravity wins, and I'm falling in what feels like slow motion, arms flailing dramatically. I land with a loud thud on my back, staring up at the sky, my pride officially shattered. Thankfully, I wasn't that high up, but still, the fall feels more painful with Inaya standing over me, shaking her head. I successfully made a fool out of myself in front of her.
Inaya gasps in a mix of shock and exasperation. She marches over and gives my legs a small kick as I groan from the ground. "What the hell, you idiot! This was crazy!"
I chuckle despite the situation and grin up at her. "Well, I am crazy about you, if that counts."
She sighs, throwing her hands in the air, as if she's dealing with a lost cause but I'm sure she's blushing, "Ayan"
"Hayee aesa mere Naam matlo Banda mar na jaye" I utter placing a hand on my chest and the way she presses her lips to stop them from blossoming into a beautiful smile actually causes my heart to skip a beat.
(Don't take my name like this...the man can even die)
I push myself up, dusting off my shirt, pretending I wasn't just sprawled on the ground like a fool. But as I get to my feet and take a proper look at Inaya, I can't help but pause for a second. She's standing there in a soft pink dress that flows just right, with silver jhumkas, her straight hair falling perfectly over her shoulders. For a second, I actually forget my usual smart remarks.
She's... well, mesmerizing.
"You know," I say, leaning casually against the now-useless ladder, "I don't say this often, but you're making it really hard to focus on anything else right now."
She crosses her arms and gleams at me with a cute pout, "you always have something flirtatious to say and stop doing these stunts or you'll end up breaking your neck"
"Aww you're concerned about me?"
She huffs, clearly trying to keep up her tough act. "I'm just worried about the poor ground you fall on"
"Mm-hmm," I drawl, not convinced. "If you say so, Nayu."
Then, before she can toss back another witty retort, I reach out for the back of my kurta and drag out a flower I placed there.
"Here, you're way prettier but a glower for a flower" I step closer to her, holding the flower out like some grand gesture, knowing full well how ridiculous I must look.
Inaya stares at the flower for a second, and to my surprise, something changes in her expression. Her tough exterior falters, and a soft blush creeps up her cheeks, coloring her usually calm composure. She blinks, looking down at the tiny flower, then back up at me, her lips parting slightly as if she doesn't know how to respond for once.
I raise an eyebrow, my grin widening. "Wait... Stop blushing Naya you're flattering me"
"Forget it" she cuts in, but there's no real bite in her voice. In fact, her tone's softer, and she quickly takes the flower from my hand, her fingers brushing against mine for the briefest moment. I tuck it into her hair, she's avoiding eye contact now as if she's trying not to let me see how flustered she is.
I lean back, satisfied, my grin still firmly in place. "You know, Naya, if I'd known a flower could get this reaction out of you, I'd have been carrying around a bouquet this entire time."
She rolls her eyes, finally meeting my gaze again, her blush fading but her smile still lingering. "Again...how many girls?"
"Only you" I chuckle, crossing my arms and leaning against the car.
I take a step back, gesturing toward the house. "Alright, I'll stop teasing... for now. But you should go grab your friends. We've got an engagement to get to, and as much as I enjoy being out here alone with you, I'm pretty sure we're already running late."
Inaya lets out a sigh, her hand lightly brushing the flower in her hair as she nods. "Fine, I'll get them. Try not to do anything else stupid while I'm gone."
"No promises," I say with a wink, watching as she heads toward the door. And as she disappears inside, I can't help but smile to myself. That little blush, the way she softened... No Ayan she's just a friend.
â¯â¯â¯â¯
AYRA'S DRESS
HOORAIN'S DRESS
INAYA'S DRESS
MAHA'S DRESS
ZAID'S LOOK
AHAD'S LOOK
AYAN'S LOOK
RAYAN'S LOOK
AYRA'S RING
ZAID'S RING
ENGAGEMENT AESTHETICS
â¯â¯â¯â¯
The room hums with excitement as the lights dim, plunging the hall into a soft darkness, broken only by the flickering glow of the chandeliers above. My pulse quickens, and my hand tightens around the armrest of the chair. I know I'm supposed to be calm, it's just an engagement and It won't stay for long, but something about the entire setup feels larger than life. The grandeur, the crowd, the low murmur of voices all bracing for her entrance. For Ayra's entrance.
Suddenly, a distant roar from outside the hall breaks the stillness a car engine, deep and rumbling, reverberating through the air. The sound grows louder, building anticipation, and I turn my head toward the entrance. The whole room seems to collectively hold its breath. My heart thuds louder in my chest.
"What's happening?" I mutter to no one in particular, shifting uneasily.
Just as I'm about to lean over to ask someone for answers, the heavy, polished doors swing open. A cloud of smoke billows in, and the room is bathed in an eerie glow, the spotlight piercing through the haze and landing squarely on the sleek, black car now parked at the entrance.
I blink, tension rising. What in the world is going on?
The engine roars one final time, and in the midst of the lingering smoke, the car comes to a dramatic stop, tires screeching against the marble floor, leaving an elegant drift mark. The hall is dead silent, save for the soft hissing of the smoke dissipating into the air. All eyes are glued to the scene, trying to piece together the spectacle unfolding before us.
But then, he reaches for the car door again, slowly pulling it open. Another rush of smoke escapes, swirling around the entrance, and out step the girls Inaya, Hoorain, and Mahaâeach of them looking stunning, like theyâve walked straight out. Positioning themselves impeccably in two sections, probably for my bride to come.
The hall grows impossibly quiet once again, the kind of silence that's almost deafening, as everyone anticipates what's coming next. My fingers dig into the armrest as Ayan steps aside, clearing the path for the final, most important reveal.
From behind the car, through the light smoke and beneath the glow of the spotlight, Ayan opens the car door and extends his hand which is grabbed by Ayra.
I freeze.
She steps forward, her entrance is slow, deliberate, and every movement is mesmerizing. Her dress seems to look ethereal because she's wearing it.
I try to swallow the lump forming in my throat, but it doesn't help. My chest tightens and as I gaze at my shivering hands, I realize that I'm doomed.
Ayra's steps are slow, deliberate, like she's in no hurry to reach me. Her lehenga sways gracefully with each movement, and I can't help but think how effortlessly she pulls this off. The warmth of the lights catches the pink accents in her dress, making her look like something out of a dream, a vision of perfection that I've never allowed myself to admit until now.
Her eyes lock onto mine, and for a brief moment, I see it...the frustration, the challenge in her gaze. But then, just as quickly, she masks it with a smile. It's a soft, radiant smile that reaches her eyes, almost as if she's doing it for the crowd, for the people watching. But I know better. I know this isn't for me. It canât be.
She's my enemy, after all. The one person who's always stood in my way, the one who has managed to pull the rug out from under my feet at every turn. The one who has hated me as much as I've hated her.
And yet, here she is, walking toward me like she owns the roomâlike she's always been in control of this game we've been playing for years.
My heart pounds against my ribs, betraying everything I've tried to convince myself of.
She reaches me, her steps slowing as she comes to a stop in front of me. Her eyes flicker over me for a moment, and I can see the fire behind them, the challenge that never truly leaves. Even in this moment. This grand, perfect, magical moment, she's still Ayra. My enemy. My rival.
But damn, if she isn't breathtaking.
I swallow hard, my mind racing. I know I have to play my part, that I can't let her see the turmoil inside me, the confusion that's threatening to pull me under. So, with a deep breath, I extend my hand toward her. It feels like the most unnatural thing in the world, offering something so simple, so traditional, to someone who's always been my competitor.
Ayra hesitates, just for a second, and I see a flash of something in her eyes surprise? Amusement? Whatever it is, she quickly brushes it away and places her hand in mine.
Her touch is warm, but it sends a cold shiver down my spine. I wasn't expecting this, wasn't expecting the way her presence, so close, throws me off balance.
"Zaid," she says, her voice smooth, yet with that familiar bite. "I'd kill you if you marry me"
Her words bring me back to reality, and I smirk, forcing myself to slip back into the role I've always played around her. "Same here," I reply, meeting her gaze head-on. "But I'd like to ruin your life"
She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk of her own. "Ruin my life? It's funny how you think that you can"
The crowd around us is watching, waiting for something, waiting for us to move, to play our roles. But all I can focus on is the strange sensation of her hand in mine and the way she's looking at me, not with hatred or disdain, but with something else. Something I canât quite place.
"You know," I say quietly, lowering my voice so only she can hear, "youâve always been good at this playing the part, pretending to be perfect. But I see through you, Ayra. I always have."
Her smirk falters for just a moment, and her eyes narrow slightly, but she doesn't pull away. "Maybe that's the problem, Zaid. You see what you want to see."
I open my mouth to respond, but the words die in my throat. Because in this moment, holding her hand and standing so close to her, I feel... awkward.
As I make my way through the hall, the laughter and teasing Ayra and Zaid fades in the background. We pushed them over their limits and I can't help but chuckle at the memory of Zaid's flustered face.
But my amusement fades when my eyes catch sight of Rayan. Everyone around me is lost in conversations, enjoying each other's company, but Rayan is different. He's retreated into a corner, arms crossed, his expression clouded with frustration. I heard bits and pieces of the argument between him and his mom earlier. It was heated, but I chose not to intervene, pretending I hadn't noticed. Rayan's the type to keep things to himself, and I know he wouldn't want me prying.
Still, seeing him like this tugs at something inside me. His usual grumpy demeanor is worse tonight. He looks... vulnerable, and for some reason, that bothers me.
I move toward him, determined to lift his spirits. "Rhino shino," I say softly, stepping into his space with a bright smile, hoping to break through that grumpiness. "I know that you're grumpy but at least smile today"
He barely glances at me, his jaw clenched tight. "Please not today Maha" he mutters, his voice rough with irritation.
I don't back down. Rayan's like this a wall of grump, always shutting people out. But I see past that. I know there's more to him. "Hay Aditi hasde hasde hasde Thora muskura" I sing, giving him a playful nudge. I might be his fake girlfriend but I even as an individual person I can't leave him.
His eyes flick to mine, the frustration still there, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he just exhales sharply, as if resigning himself to my presence.
I offer him a small smile and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You know," I say softly, my tone gentler now, "whatever's going on... you don't have to carry it alone. You've got me."
He doesn't respond, his silence is louder than words, but I don't let it get to me. He doesn't have to say anything. I understand him.
An idea suddenly pops into my head, and I step away from him, my eyes catching the microphone set up across the hall that Ayan organized for his dramatic dance and whatsoever. Without thinking twice, I stride toward it and grab the mic, catching everyone's attention. I hope that grumps is grateful for me.
"Hello, everyone!" My voice echoes across the hall, causing heads to turn in my direction. Rayan looks confused, even more annoyed now, but I meet his gaze with a wink before turning back to the crowd. "I just wanted to introduce myself, officially. I'm Maha, Rayan's girlfriend."
A few murmurs ripple through the room, and I can feel the curious eyes on us. Rayan shifts uncomfortably now he's standing, but I keep going. "I just want to say how incredibly lucky I am to have someone like Rayan in my life. Not only is he an amazing person, but he's also a phenomenal football player."
I glance at him, catching the flicker of surprise in his eyes. "One day," I continue with a proud smile, "there's going to be a line of people waiting to get his autograph, and trust me, I'll be the first in line. Of course if you don't give me special treatment I'll smash your head"
A few people laugh at that, and I can see the tension in the room ease. I look back at Rayan, his expression softened, just a little. Maybe it's not much, but it's something.
"I'm proud of you, Rhino" I say, my voice sincere. "And no matter what, I've got your back. Yeah yeah your crazy Maha Aamir"
As I finish my little speech and step off the stage, the room erupts into applause. A few people are clapping loudly, while others are letting out a collective, "Awww!" The girls are grinning from ear to ear, and Ayan is hooting like he's at a football match.
"That's my bhabhi" Ayan shouts, making a few others laugh.
I walk back toward Rayan, and to my surprise, he's chuckling. Actually chuckling. Not just a smirk, but an honest-to-goodness laugh. It's like seeing a dream, and I can't help but smile wider.
I stop in front of him and spread my arms wide. "Yeah, I know, I'm amazing," I say with a playful wink. "Go ahead, you can hug me. I deserve it."
He shakes his head, still laughing softly, and ruffles my hair instead. "You really are crazy Maha, you don't even care about the people"
I swat his hand away, pretending to be offended. "As always aag Lage basti m Maha apni masti mein"
"Of course" he says, rolling his eyes, but there's a softness in his gaze now.
"Why fear when Maha is here right?"
"A hundred percent" I tease, nudging his side lightly.
But before he can respond, the mood shifts. Out of the corner of my eye, I see two very familiar figures marching toward us, Rayan's parents, Aisha and Yusuf Khan. And, from the looks on their faces, they're not happy.
"Excuse me" Aisha Khan's voice is stern, her eyes narrowing as she crosses her arms. "What on earth was that little stunt you just pulled?"
I blink, glancing at Rayan, who suddenly goes quiet. He steps in front of me, almost instinctively, as if shielding me from his parents' wrath.
"Mom, Dad, it's not a big deal," Rayan says, his tone calm, though I can tell he's trying to defuse the situation. "She was just..."
"But ma'am I'm his girlfriend so what's wrong?" I interrupt, stepping around Rayan to face his parents head-on. "Eventually his wife"
Aisha's eyebrow arches, clearly not impressed. "I'm talking to my son here"
I shrug casually, trying to keep the mood light. "Well, your son here isn't interested in Mariam, he's interested in me"
Rayan covers his mouth, trying to hide his laughter, but I can see his shoulders shaking.
Yusuf Khan steps forward, his arms crossed. "This isn't a joke, Maha. You don't just grab a microphone and announce things like that without thinking about the consequences."
I lean in slightly and lower my voice, grinning. "Consequences? You mean like, making your son laugh for the first time in forever? Oh no, how awful."
Rayan can't hold it in anymoreâhe bursts out laughing, and a few people nearby glance over in confusion. Even Aisha's stern expression cracks a little.
"You twoâ¦" Aisha shakes her head, though her tone is softer now. "Uff Rayan seriously itni paagal larki ko koi nahi sambhalega"
Rayan shoots me a sideways glance, still chuckling. "Koi kyun sambhalega? Meri hai mein sambhalunga"
I stare at him, slightly taken aback by his sudden affection, his parents mutter something under their breath and leaves us both probably keeping in mind the presence of many business personalities.
"Thank you, Maha," he says, his voice is softer now.
"Mention not," I say, flashing him a proud grin. "I know I'm the best. Not that I'm saying anything bad to you, of course. I probably shouldn't have stood up like that, but then again, this is the matter of your protection, and you know I'm always there for you, becâ"
"Chup ho jao, Maha." His finger gently presses against my lips, silencing me instantly. My breath catches as my gaze locks with his honey-colored eyes, warm and intense. There's something different about this moment, something tender in the way he's looking at me. My heart skips a beat, and I become acutely aware of his touchâa mix of warmth and the coolness of the metal from my pendant.
Itâs then I realize his gaze has shifted, trailing down to the orchid pendant hanging around my neck. The same pendant he gifted me. And even though I'm usually a whirlwind of chaos, this one thing has always remained constantâI've never let it leave my neck.
He brushes his thumb lightly over the pendant, his fingers grazing my skin ever so slightly, sending a shiver through me. "The orchid pendant," he murmurs, his voice low and almost intimate. "It looks good on you."
I swallow, suddenly feeling a flutter in my chest. "Obvio dude I'm wearing it" My voice comes out softer than I intended.
He nods, his hand lingering on the pendant for a moment longer before dropping to his side. "Definitely" he says, his lips curving into a small smile. "It suits you. Just like... you suit me."
I blink up at him, feeling the weight of his words. I touch his forehead with the back of my hand "bukhar wukhar to nahi Huwa?"
He chuckles and rolls his eyes "just trying to teach you the importance of the word hesitate"
In my attempt to withdraw my hand I accidentally.... accidentally hit his nose. A low groan escapes his mouth and before I can say anything, "Kuch mat Bolna" one of his hand grasps the area of his nose while I try to muffle my laugh.
This is our bond.
Everyone is scattered around the hallâMaha is wrapped up with Rayan, looking at him like he's the only person in the room, Ayra's busy greeting Zaid's family with her usual grace, and Hoorain⦠well, she rushed outside the second she heard the commotion, probably to stop whatever madness is going on.
And then there's me, just standing here, sipping on my drink, watching the chaos unfold around me like I'm a background character in someone else's story. It's fine, I tell myself. I like it this way quiet, easy, peaceful.
But my peace is short-lived. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot himâAyan, standing across the room, all smiles and charm as he chats with a group of girls. Of course. Why am I even surprised? He's always surrounded by a crowd, isn't he? I roll my eyes, a familiar irritation creeping up my spine.
Why do you even care, Inaya? I shake my head at myself. He's a flirt, a playboy through and through. He's probably already forgotten about the last time he tried to annoy me with his cheesy lines. I'm honestly a fool to even let him affect me.
Still, I can't help but glance at him every now and then, watching as he leans in a little too close to one of the girls, flashing that signature grin of his. Typical Ayan. Haww he's giving her that boxy smile!!!!!!
"You're looking at him again."
The voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see a girl standing next to me, smiling knowingly. She has the same mischievous glint in her eyes as Ayan, though she seems less chaotic.
"Ayzal," I greet her, a little embarrassed that she caught me looking. "I wasn't-"
"You totally were," she says, cutting me off with a playful grin. "She's Mahnoor."
I blink. "Mahnoor?"
Ayzal shrugs casually. "Oh, you know. His ex, probably."
His ex? The words hit me like a sting I wasn't expecting. Of course, Inaya, I remind myself. Ayan's a playboy, a serial flirt. Girls come and go in his life. It's no big deal, right?
But still, there's a faint twinge in my chest that I can't ignore. I swallow hard, trying to push it away. "Right," I say, forcing a nonchalant tone. "That makes sense. He's Ayan, after all."
Ayzal chuckles softly, nudging me with her elbow. "Don't worry surprisingly he has left everyone a past few months before"
I chuckle, "maybe"
Ayzal tilts her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "Well then if you don't wanna show Bhai your jealousy then let's dance"
I raise an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. "I'm jealous?"
Ayzal just laughs, clearly not buying my act. "Maybe"
I flash her a confident smile. "Of course not. I'm not jealous of her or anyone else"
Ayzal grins and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the stage. "Then let's give them a show."
As we walk, the lights suddenly dim, and a hush falls over the hall. The spotlight swings to me, making my heart race for a split second, but I breathe deeply, reminding myself of all the moments I'd been underestimated. I'm not that shy girl anymore. I'm not just a spectator in this story. This confidence⦠it's something I've been building, maybe in part because of Ayan. Even though he's been annoying, he's pushed me in ways I didn't expect.
The music starts, the first notes of
[RADHA TERI CHUNARI]
fills the air, and without missing a beat, I begin to move. The beat pulses through my veins as I spin, my movements smooth, precise, matching every lyric of the song.
With a sharp flick of my wrist, I twirl like Radha herself, my chunari floating in the air as I step to the rhythm, letting the music guide me. The lyrics are playful, full of energy, and I let my body mirror that.
As the music swells, I glide across the stage, each step perfectly timed to the rhythm. The energy pulses through me, and I feel the crowd behind me, cheering me on. My movements flow with the melody, graceful and fluid, as if I've done this a thousand times. The lights shift, bathing the stage in vibrant colors as I spin and dance with every lyric.
"Hoga woh lakhon dil ka chor" I sing along, my voice light and teasing, my eyes locking onto Ayan's across the room, "Humko toh lage bore."
I point directly at him, a playful grin on my face, and the entire crowd bursts into laughter. Ayan, standing there with a shocked expression, raises his eyebrow in amusement before grinning, clapping his hands with the rest of the group. The look on his face is priceless, a mixture of surprise and admiration.
But before I can blink, Ayan strides forward, closing the distance between us in seconds. He reaches out, grabbing my hand smoothly, pulling me into a spin. The crowd erupts in cheers as he twirls me around effortlessly. My breath catches, and for a moment, I forget everything but the music and the way Ayanâs laughter mingles with it.
"Oh Radha teri chunari, oh Radha tera challaâ¦" The lyrics take over, and we're dancing together, our steps perfectly in sync. I can't help but laugh as he mirrors my movements, the playfulness in his eyes contagious. His hand presses against my back, leading me into the next step, and we dance in a whirlwind of color and light.
The music slows, and I find myself singing along again, teasing him with every word. "Milega koi aur doongi main hathon mein mere dil ki yeh dor," I sing, my voice ringing out confidently.
Ayan's grin widens, and without missing a beat, he picks up on the rhythm, dancing alongside me. His steps are sharp and precise, but there's a lightness in the way he moves that I haven't seen before. We hit the signature steps, moving in perfect harmony as if we've practiced this a hundred times. His arm circles around me again, and I twirl, letting my dress fan out as the cheers around us grow louder.
The crowd is losing itâhooting, clapping, and cheering for us as we dance together under the shifting lights. The energy in the room is electric, and I can feel everyone's eyes on us. But right now, it's just me and Ayan.
Then the light changes, casting a soft, golden glow over the stage. Ayan steps forward, his face mischievous as he belts out, "Radha Radha kahe itna guroor gala..." His voice carries through the room, filled with his usual playful charm.
He winks at me, still dancing, and continues, "Tune kya socha ek tu hi mashhoor yaha, lakhon hai gopiya hain humpe fida!" He spins me once more, the two of us dancing to the final notes of the song.
With one final twirl, we come to a stop, our breath mingling with the last echo of the music, the stage lights dimming slowly. The crowd explodes in applause, whistles, and cheers, the sound deafening. Iâm breathing hard, my heart racing, but I canât stop smiling as Ayan looks down at me, his usual teasing grin back in place.
"Not bad for someone who thinks I'm boring, huh?"Â he quips, his voice low enough for only me to hear.
I laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly. "Don't get used to it."
The crowd is still roaring with approval, and as I look around, I can't help but feel a sense of victory.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
As the crowd slowly disperses after our performance, Ayzal makes her way over to me, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Inaya, that was phenomenal!" she gushes, pulling me into a quick hug. "I knew you could dance, but this was something else!"
I laugh lightly, still catching my breath from all the energy of the dance. "Thanks, Ayzal," I say, feeling a little proud but trying to remain humble. "It was just for fun."
Ayzal shakes her head, grinning as she hands me a small basket. "Bhai did it,â she says, her tone playful. "He wanted me to give this to you."
I glance down at the basket, confused but intrigued. Inside, it's filled with chocolates and... a small note with emojis? There are boxing gloves and a book scribbled in the corner, making the whole thing feel like a cryptic joke.
"What...?" I murmur, squinting at the odd combination. It's typical of Ayan to be confusing. I smile despite myself, appreciating the gesture but not fully understanding it. Still, I tuck the basket under my arm and begin to walk towards where Ayan was standing earlier, planning to ask him about the whole "boxing and book" thing.
But as I approach, my steps falter.
Ayan is standing there, laughingâreally laughingâwith Mahnoor. The sight of them together catches me off guard, and something unpleasant twists in my stomach. It's ridiculous, I know. Ayan is Ayan, the ever-flirty playboy, and Mahnoor... well, I've heard enough about her to know they have a history. Yet, seeing them together, so carefree, sets off a small spark of jealousy inside me.
Before I can turn away, I hear it. His voice. Clear as day.
"I would never date a girl like Inaya," Ayan says with a chuckle, his tone casual, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
I freeze. The words hit me harder than I expect, and for a moment, it feels like the air has been knocked out of my lungs. I shouldn't care...I don't care. Why would I? We're just friends. The flirting, the banterâit's all a game. Nothing more. But hearing it out loud, so casually dismissed, stings in a way I didnât anticipate.
It shouldn't matter.
But it does.
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat, trying to ignore the mix of emotions swirling inside me. Confusion, anger, hurtâit's all there, and I don't know why. I wasn't expecting anything from him. I didn't want anything more. Right?
Still, his words linger, replaying over and over in my mind. I take a deep breath and decide to brush it off, refusing to let it ruin the evening. This isn't about Ayan. It's about my best friend's engagement, about being here for her and celebrating her happiness.
With that thought, I turn away, forcing a smile and pushing the unwelcome feelings down. There's no time for this. Not tonight. I square my shoulders and head back towards the engagement hall, determined to focus on what really matters.
The night has been a total blast. From Maha's bold stunt on stage to the dance performance with Inaya, everything feels like it's bursting with energy. I can still hear the cheers, the hoots, and the clapping ringing in my ears as I navigate through the crowd. This engagement party has turned into an unforgettable event, and I can't help but smirk at how wild the evening's become.
After a bit of mingling, I bump into Mahnoor again. It's been a while since I last saw her, but there's no awkwardness between us. Sheâs my ex, sure, but we ended things on good terms. There's no lingering drama, just mutual respect, and maybe a little playful banter.
"if it isn't the same old Ayan," she teases, her eyes sparkling as she leans against the wall, arms crossed.
I grin. "Same old? Come on, I've become more handsome than before"
She laughs lightly, then eyes me up and down with a playful smirk. "Still a lawyer?"
"Obviously," I reply with a shrug, as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world.
Mahnoor rolls her eyes, her teasing smile not leaving her face. "I still suggest you drop it, you know. You're not serious enough for the job."
I laugh, shaking my head. âThatâs where youâre wrong. Iâve got plenty of serious hidden under all this charm.â I gesture vaguely at myself. I won't admit it but this kind of stings, when people judge my skills on the basis of my personality. She has never attended any of my mock trials, I've never lost any one of them yet I'm not a good fit for the job.
"Uh-huh, sure," she says, clearly unconvinced but not pressing the issue. She's about to say something else when her eyes flicker towards the stage, where Inaya just finished dancing.
"Speaking of charm," she begins, her tone shifting slightly, "you looked pretty enthralled by the girl you were dancing with."
I chuckle, knowing exactly where this is going. "Enthralled? Come on, I was just having fun."
Mahnoor arches an eyebrow. "So, are you dating her?"
I laugh again, this time more heartily, shaking my head. "I would never date a girl like Inaya."
She blinks, surprised. "Why not? She's beautiful and cute."
I nod in agreement, the thought of Inaya flashing through my mind. "No doubt. She's the description of what's mesmerizing." I pause for a second, weighing my next words carefully. "But she's too perfect for me. She doesn't deserve someone with a playboy image like mine... A girl like her isn't made for flirting, she's made for something deeperâtrue love. I'm afraid I won't be able to treat her right.. that I might hurt her"
Mahnoor tilts her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Wow. I'm jealous. Youâve never thought about anyone like that before. That girl has seriously cast a spell on you."
I chuckle, glancing back in the direction of where Inaya disappeared into the crowd. "Maybe she has. But whatever it is, it's not like that. She's... different. Too good for me."
Mahnoor rolls her eyes again, but this time thereâs a soft understanding behind her gaze. "You've changed, Ayan. I think she's gotten under your skin more than you realize."
I shrug, trying to shake off the heaviness in my chest. "Maybe. But it doesnât change anything."
Mahnoor grins, patting my shoulder lightly. "Whatever you say, Ayan. Just don't let her slip through your fingers if you ever figure out what you really want."
I smirk, shaking my head as Mahnoor walks off. As much as I brush it off, her words stick with me, lingering in the back of my mind like an annoying echo I can't quite shake.
(â à¹â Ëâ â¥â Ëâ à¹â )
Hey guys I hope y'all are doing fine and well.
Soo this was just a glimpse of our zayra's engagement and everything will make sense in next chapter.
I apologize if this one wasn't UpTo the mark because I'm still going through the writer's block due to some circumstances.
Share your views regarding today's chapter... And your favorite couple till now?
Thankyou so muchhhhh for 50k reads on the book ðð¦
Thankyou so much for the love y'all are giving to this book ð·
Soo.....
Which sequence of Humraah is your most favorite till now and why?
This time I'm expecting at least 300 votes ð please tap the star button.
Happy birthday to the admin of Rayan's account.
Stay safe and healthy.