"What was your name again?" Zayn looked up when he heard the receptionist's unwelcoming tone. He tucked one of his hands into the pocket of the khaki uniform pants he was wearing. "Zayn..." He answered. "Zayn Ahmed." His hand moved in the pocket of the pants once more to check for the nth time if the pendant he kept there was still intact. He relaxed when he felt the cold sensation of the stone brushing his fingers lightly. He looked at the receptionist in front of him with a light frown. The feeling seemed mutual because the receptionist was also staring back at him with a frown. "And, who would you like to see?" Her voice was laced with displeasure. "Dahlia Faez," He mentioned his wife's name with natural ease and wondered how she would react to his sudden visit. He took a quick look around the lobby of the entertainment agency and noted how lavishly it was designed, the way it should be. It's only expected that an over rated entertainment agency like this has a luxurious
Ayra felt even more infuriated at his nonchalant attitude like he wasn't even a little bit affected by her threat. She pointed a finger at him and was about to make another offensive remark when she realized that they were still at the lobby and they were beginning to attract the attention of people passing by, especially that nosy receptionist who was staring at them keenly. Gritting her teeth in anger, she dropped her finger. It would do no good to argue with this scoundrel in public. "Follow me," She turned around and left the place with him following closely.**** "Here," Ayra opened the door of an office that had a sign board 'DAHLIA FAEZ' written in bold, golden letters with stars adorning it. "I assume you will get bored when she doesn't show up and leave this place," Ayra stepped aside for him to enter. As she was leaving, she warned him,"Don't touch anything! The smallest object in this office is worth the price of the entire collection of your clothes." W
C—lick. Zayn closed the door with a low click. He remembered to check the door to make sure it was in perfect condition and he hadn't damaged it in any way because he was certain if anything were to happen to the door, assistant Ayra would have his head in an instant. He chuckled as he thought of the ferocious expression on the assistant earlier and he turned to leave. Just as he turned around, his curious eyes caught sight of the door opposite Dahlia's office. The door was ajar. Huh, why didn't he notice this door earlier? His eyes darted upwards and he spelt out the name written on the sign board on the door -'Director Ahmed.' "Director Ahmed?" He said again, quietly. "Why do I feel like I have heard this name before?" Nope. It's not the similarity in their last names. Zayn just thought the name sounded— familiar? He thought of something, looked at the sign board again and nodded,"Now I remember. He's the same man that's been trending in the news lately." The name s
Zayn tried to check if he could fix the bike but the problem was more complex than he thought. The bike has been in that restaurant for years but that old grumpy boss of his wouldn't spare some dirhams to buy a new one. He knew what was wrong with the bike but there was no way he could repair it without a toolbox... Is there? He was left with no other option than to walk back, all the way to the restaurant while pushing the old bike. No way was he leaving it at the damned entertainment agency and having it towed away, worse still, facing the wrath of that senile boss. Just a few meters away from the entertainment agency, his phone began to ring. He unconsciously hastened his steps. "Is it my boss or perhaps my mother -in-law?" He tried to figure out the person that was calling him. "No... That's not right. Mother in-law won't call me not after I spoiled her mood. Then who could it be? Father-in-law? Nah... He's never called me once. I don't even think he has my contact info."
S—sultan?Zayn couldn't deny his fingers moved, more like shook. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him. How many years has it been since he heard that word... or this voice?Three years? Four years?"Sultan," The voice called again, breaking through the troubled train of thoughts in his head. A swoosh of breath escaped his mouth as he breathed out before answering,"Father." His eyes cautiously looked around the nearly deserted road like he was searching for someone.He heard that familiar low happy laughter from the phone before the caller spoke again,"Zayn, you unfilial child. Do you even have any ounce of love in you for my wife? You didn't even contact her once. I really misunderstood your stubbornness."A smile, a genuine one finally appeared on Zayn's face. "Father remember, you forbade me from contacting anyone in the family. Besides, your wife is my mother. She'll understand."There was another low laughter at his sharp reply, briefly followed by a question. "How have you bee
Thrown in the limelight, Zayn had no other choice but to walk forward. With a low bow, he apologized,"Sir, it's my fault this time. Don't blame Mike. I'm sorry." Mr Mikhail laughed sarcastically. "Of course, it's your fault. That's what you said the last time too. Say, do you earn more cash secretly from these deliveries? The job I employed you for is the post of a cook not a delivery boy!" No one said a word. There was a pleased smile on Noor's face. He's always hated Zayn's pretentious self-righteous behavior. Everytime the latter gets into trouble, Mike is always there to rescue him. The funniest thing is that he is Mike's new roommate not Zayn so why does Mike insist on showing more compassion to Zayn than to him!? What's so good about Zayn anyway that even Mr Mikhail who's usually grumpy isn't too strict with him? Let's see how he'll get out of this mess this time. "I remember the last time this happened, I said something," Mr Mikhail looked at them. The staff exchang
"Yes. Friends are supposed to help each other not destroy one another. Why didn't he own up earlier when the boss asked?" Another chimed in. Zayn snickered quietly. Were they deaf when Mike claimed to be responsible for the offense earlier? To think of it, it was Mike that spoke first earlier. No one forced him to speak. Why does it suddenly feel like this Mike in person is a hypocrite!? "It's only fair for Zayn to give his own share of the monthly salary to Mike as compensation," Someone suggested. Others including Noor nodded in agreement. Zayn couldn't help chuckling. Such counterfeit sympathetic comments from his colleagues really makes his stomach churn in disgust. He was about to refute their words when Mike suddenly came to the little circle they formed round him. "Stop blaming Zayn okay? It was my choice to make and I was indeed at fault. I do not appreciate people poking their noses in my business, especially those that speak without filter." His words stunned the s
Just then, a loud crashing sound resounded from the office and the hallway became silent. The employees exchanged a look. What just happened? The door flew open and a heavily dressed lady came out. Her face was smudged with an awful amount of makeup, simply too much make-up. She appeared to be wearing a dress that stopped just above her knee-length. Her face was red, displaying her anger. But as she walked out, she crashed into Zayn who was about to knock on the door. "Oww," She winced in pain. She had bumped into his chest and hit her head really hard so that it hurt. She looked up at Zayn. "You wretched fellow. Are you blind? Get out of my way," She pushed him with her small handbag and left. Zayn looked around when he heard some of his colleagues snickering. Mr Mikhail walked out then. He paused to see them standing in front of his office. He seemed a bit embarrassed to see that they were there and chanced to witness the little quarrel between him and his daughter... Not li