(unedited)
The constant buzz of voices, murmurs, rushed footsteps and ringing phones was already getting on her damned nerves. They have a grand total of two weeks to go before shooting is to start in Paris. As excited and nervous she was for this project to start, she had reached a level where she just wished it was all over already. She knew there were a number of people who weren't exactly happy that she was to host the entire segment, but to go as far as sabotage, that was just fucking low.
Her budget has been cut not just once, but three fucking times. That's right the budget for the entire crew has been slashed to the point where there was no money left for food. Between ticket prices, hotel rooms and vehicle rental there was nothing left anymore. Farrah was dipping into her own savings to get things sorted when George and Rachel had both stepped up and took a stand for her. Rachel was going to direct the entire segment with her and Farrah was more than grateful to have a familiar face with her. The rest of the crew came on Rachel's recommendation and Farrah trusted her implicitly.
Rachel was already nominated for a few docudramas, the most notable was the BAFTA nomination last year and Farrah knew that she was trying her hardest to not only get nominated again but to possibly win it this time around. Did she feel like she was being used by Rachel? Possibly. Was she using Rachel for her expertise and experience? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Farrah's phone vibrated next to her head and she groaned. They were still sorting out the unseal-able documents dilemma. Apparently, there were some discrepancies when it comes to the first responder's recounting of his experience. At first Farrah chalked it up to being confusion as it has been 20 years since it happened. But when they spoke to the member of the staff who found the princess, she had let slip that she was bound by a non-disclosure, a separate and more specific contract, that she was not allowed to talk about that day. Farrah had thought that maybe the more tenacious student intern, Violet; with the purple highlights and the 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' attitude could handle it.
Well, Farrah thought wrong. The palace has been giving Violet the run around and after two weeks, there was still no word on it. Why can't the staff member talk? Was this one of those documents that Richard had already forewarned her about? Someone just needed to give her the fucking confirmation so that she can just leave it alone and move on to more pressing matters; like getting some amount of sleep.
Richard. Richard. Richard. His name has become a constant echo in her mind. She didn't know when it started but as she sits on the prayer mat after performing her namaz, his name automatically slips into her dialogue with Allah. She prays for him; for his happiness, for his health, for his faith...she prays that he is blessed with everything that he needs, even if it wasn't her. Sighing, Farrah's phone vibrates again next to her head and she groans loudly.
Looking at her phone, she saw: fourteen new email notifications, six missed calls, three missed video calls, 128 text messages. What the fuck, how did all this happen in 10 minutes?, she thought somewhat frantic. Farrah felt like flinging her phone to the wall but instead she took a deep calming breath and unlocked her phone. Going through her messages, Farrah skipped the texts from work to answer personal ones first. Saif had texted her. She was right, when she said that he was one of the good ones. Even though he didn't have to, he still sent her flowers for Valentine's Day.
Those were the last of the flowers that he sent her along with a note that said if she ever needed a friend, she knew where to find him. She was glad that they had managed to get over whatever it was to be friends. He was cocky, funny and ridiculous. But he was also subtly asking her about things that were more Islamic in nature. Given her current dilemma, she could only point him towards the right direction rather than give him the answers herself.
Farrah saw that Richard, the cause of her dilemmas, sent her a text as well and her thumb froze above his name. That wasn't the only flowers she received that day for Valentine's. She received a dozen tulips; beautiful golden hued tulips and wrapped in the finest tissue paper. The flowers themselves were close to perfection but everything else confused her. Even what was written on the card; This moment is all there is â Rumi, confused her.
She sat down on her chair, staring at the flowers completely lost. It wasn't until someone suggested that she Googled what yellow tulips symbolizes that it all kind of snapped into place. Although yellow tulips now had a cheerful happier meaning they used to symbolize a yearning, a hopeless one-sided kind of love. And the quote from Rumi; Richard had gifted her a book of Rumi's poetry. She hadn't gotten around to reading it yet, and she knew he had bookmarked certain pages. She knew saying that she didn't have time was a weak excuse, but that was what she was sticking with. She refused to dwell deeply into her excuses.
The conversation they had that night over the phone was definitely one of the most uncomfortable ones she's had with him. Where everything used to fall so naturally in place, just felt awkward to her. Farah sighed, recalling their conversation.
"Did you like the tulips?"
"I...yeah, I did. I had to Google what the flowers meant though."
"Did you? And?"
"Oh, you know the usual; yellow means friendship and all."
"Was that the only information you found?"
"...Yeah."
She didn't know why she refused to tell him about the original meaning of the yellow flowers. Although she suspected that he was aware that she knew. It has been almost three weeks since then, but Richard did not mention a word more about the flowers, the poetry â nothing. They still talked as often as their schedules allowed. He still called her 'love', that knowledge itself eased some of Farrah's anxiety over how Richard would behave towards her when she finally would see him. As she was about to click on Richard's text to finally read it, Violet's name came flashing on her phone and she answered immediately.
"Farrah, you are needed in conference room 2. Run if you have to," was all Violet said before she cut the line. Farrah at once got up and ran to the conference room with her phone in her hand, leaving all her other things behind. In passing she yelled at the other student intern, Matt, to keep an eye on her things as she'll be right back.
Walking into the conference room Farrah was greeted by the red face of Allen, a nightmare of a person that she had to deal with to get access to the documents. Looking around, she also saw a red-faced George and Rachel, who had her lips pressed in a thin line.
"Is this how you work here, Ms. Khan?" Allen asked venomously. "Using an intern, a bloody intern, with no clearance whatsoever, to request access to sensitive information?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Farrah said immediately as she felt heat climb up her skin. She was mortified, in her haste she forgot to close the door to the conference room. Farrah was almost a 100% certain that everyone outside could hear him.
"I have absolutely no use of your sorrys', Ms. Khan. I still believe without a doubt that this segment is a mistake and to put it in the hands of someone as inexperienced and incompetent as yourself would be a surefire way to turn it into a shit show," Allen spat. Farrah blinked as he continued berating her.
"We had spent months sorting out the contract, had you taken the time to read it instead of entertaining His Highness Prince Richard, I wouldn't even have to be here," he blustered. From the corner of her eye, Farrah saw George about to say something, but she shook her head slightly to stop him. She watched as George turned a deeper shade of red as he clenched his jaw. "It would do to show some interest, some professionalism in your work to read and research rather than to bat your lashes at the prince."
"All the information you need and have clearance for are in this docket," Allan slammed the papers on the desk. Walking towards her, he looked at her in an appraising manner. "Do not lose this docket Ms. Khan. Regardless of your relationship is with the prince, there will be consequences," he spat a final time before storming through the office. Farrah turned to watch him leave, and at the same time she saw dozens of eyes trained on her. She pressed her hands to her cheeks and she could feel them burning.
"I'm sorry, George and Rachel. I'm really sorry," Farrah choked out as she turned towards the table to pick up the docket that Allan had left for them. "It won't happen again."
"That man is a fucking asshole. He deserves a big shiny boot up his arse," George swears.
"Meh, that won't help. It would just permanently lodge the stick up his arse," Rachel answered wryly.
Somehow, Farrah couldn't contain the giggle inside her at Rachel's comment. She started giggling uncontrollably and was met with the amused faces of Rachel and George. She pressed her hands to her face again, and she still found it warm to the touch.
"Go home, Farrah. You've been pulling crazy hours to coordinate everything; from the trip to sorting through hours of footage. Go home. Take a break. Come back tomorrow bursting with new ideas and visions," George said gently.
"And always, always use the interns for grunt work," Rachel said seriously.
"I'm an intern," Farrah answered, frowning at Rachel.
"Not for long," Rachel said in a sing-song voice shooting her a wink.
***
Hey guys, wooo...I did it, another week with 2 updates. I am properly exhausted now. Sorry that the chapter is unedited. I tried, I really did but I am way too tired to read and re-read.
*yawns like a lion*
Anyways, show me the love guys: share, vote & comment!
Especially commenting guys, I would love to know what you guys think of the book so far, of the chapter, of the characters. Tell me how you feeeeeel!! I love talking to you lot