Chapter Eight

"You know what I'm going to talk about, don't you?" She questioned him with a sad and disappointed smile.

"Why did you do it, papa?"

Arsalaan fell out of words, he didn't know why he felt the need to do something unauthentic like that. It was not him. But the thought of seeing his daughter getting rejected on her very first interview made him paranoid and he used his influence to get her the job. He shouldn't have done that but the father in him couldn't stop himself from doing that

"Didn't you have a little faith in me, papa?" She asked in a whisper, "you could have trusted me a little bit,"

"Mashal, jaani. It's not that I don't have faith in you. I know, I shouldn't have done that," Arsalaan came forward to place his hand on her forearm, she pulled away with a pout.

"If I wasn't selected at all, I would have definitely felt hurt, papa. But at least I'd know that I've tried my best and that it wasn't meant for me. I know facing rejection is a new thing for me. But not everything is going to be in my favour. I need to get used to that big time." Mashal chuckled sadly. It felt like the first step of her growing up. Of facing this real world. She has been sheltered enough already.

"I'm sorry, Mashal, I didn't mean to say you wouldn't be selected at all. I was just scared. You were so used to winning everything. I wasn't sure how losing would make you feel." Arsalaan admitted his worries as he caressed her hair gently, "it's high time you let me grow out of this bubble, papa. At least then it wouldn't hurt as much. I should know what it feels like to lose, let me lose if I have to," She replied whilst side hugging him and noticed his sigh of relief after that small hug.

He did that because he loved her. She couldn't get herself to be mad at him any longer. She just felt blessed. So very blessed.

"And also, I'm not taking that job. Not because you used your influence but because I genuinely don't want to. But please don't let this repeat again, papa. I want to fight my own battles. Face all the bitterness of this world like every other person." She smiled brightly.

"I'm so proud of you, jaani. I'm so proud of you." Arsalaan admitted genuinely and she smiled more. It was all she ever needed, for her parents to feel proud of her.

"I'm a strong girl, papa. I should be knowing not everyone are going to like me and that I should just deal with it." She suddenly felt emotional and tears brimmed in her eyes which she quickly fought away.

"Who said that? We all love you, jaani" Arsalaan reassured her gently and she nodded, feeling happy, "I know and I'm so blessed for that, thank you, papa. I think it's getting late for you," she said whilst staring at the huge wall clock placed in the living room. It was similar to that of Mrs Weasley's clock from the Harry Potter movie. They got it especially designed because both Mashal and Meher are crazy Harry Potter fanatics.

Their house had so many Harry Potter goodies. It was exhausting for Malaika. She couldn't understand all that hype for a fictional fantasy character. But Arsalaan always encouraged that madness.

Meher even went as far as naming her Persian house cat with the name Harry. The obsession was of another level.

"Yeah, actually. There was an important meeting I'm supposed to attend at nine. I'll get going, Allah Hafiz." He kissed her forehead hurriedly and walked into the kitchen to bid bye to his lovely wife as well.

Mashal chuckled softly before walking upstairs. Her eyes were fixed straight on the staircase and not on the kitchen just right beside it. Otherwise, she'd start picturing their kiss again. God, it was so annoying. But she loved them with all her heart.

She was glad to be distracted somehow though. The thought of her newfound crush was seriously very terrifying. How she's going to act upon it is going to matter a lot. But for now, she chose to ignore it. Crush it like it didn't matter. For how long she can hold onto that, only time will tell.

***

"Ginny, I swear you are so picky. Why can't you be like just another normal cat?" Murat chided his cat, who meowed at him and continued to eat her food, which was imported from Australia. It was the only type of food that she eats and he stocks them in his house on a yearly basis.

"Stay here, don't eat the carpet again. I'll be back," he told to her like she was an actual person and walked towards his living room where his phone was ringing loudly.

"You traitor," the accusing voice of his friend, Chris welcomed him as soon as he answered the call. A chuckle escaped his lips, "I feel like shit. Why didn't you give me a ride like you promised to?" He asked him and Murat fell silent for a second.

The happenings of yesterday passed in front of his eyes. Of how Eliza came to his usual hangout spot just to rub it on his face about how easy it was for her to move on. Of how he messed up with his neighbour. It was just too much for him.

"I safely made you reach home, you should be grateful, bro." Murat sighed, feeling hopeless. He didn't want to recollect all that in the early morning hours but now that he did, a weird sort of bitterness corrupted his mind. He felt angry and hurt.

"Yes. How nice of you. Thanks." Sarcasm dripped off his voice and unable to take it anymore, Murat hung upon him and kicked the sofa in frustration but winced in pain instead.

He was about to throw his phone back on the sofa, but a notification caught his eyes and he opened them quickly. A groan left his mouth, feeling overwhelmed. When will this drama come to an end anyway? He sighed, feeling miserable.

Supermodel, Eliza Hossain dancing with her new beau. Her ex-boyfriend is furious. Click here to see the pics.

Those were the headlines. He didn't care much about her, he told himself that he didn't. But it pissed him off to see his name being dragged into the mess again and again.

He used to love this fame once upon a time. Being with her, the famous super model girlfriend made him that way. But now he regrets nothing more than that.

It's been three months since their break up and he wished people got over them already. If only it was that easy.

Leave about people... Why couldn't he get over it already? Why was Eliza affecting him even after three damn months? He pretended it didn't matter and that he was okay. But it wasn't okay. He wished he could openly share that with someone. Someone who wouldn't judge him for not feeling okay.

All he could feel at that moment was sadness and heartache. He felt alone and helpless. He shouldn't have defied his parents and dated Eliza five years ago. They were always against that very idea. And now he's facing its dirty consequences. Feeling lonely and miserable. Without his parents on his side. He missed them. So damn much! Every single day.

His hands shivered slightly as he dialled that one number he always did whenever something goes wrong, "Murat?" His mother's joy-filled voice did nothing but break him more.

"Ammi," his voice came out muffled and a drop of tear rolled down his cheek. Before he realised, he was crying hysterically. Unable to hold onto it any longer.

"Mera baccha, what's wrong?" Hania asked, "should I come over, Murat? Is everything okay, dear?" She added in her worry-filled voice.

He could feel the tears forming in her eyes and that made him feel all the more miserable. He only gave them tears and pain. He was the worst son ever. Guilt began to eat him alive.

"Ammi, I feel broken. So broken, ammi." Murat cried in pain.

"Saad, your son is scaring me." He heard her whisper to his father.

"I'm ready to do something which you always asked me to, ammi." After composing his tears, he spoke those lines crystal and clear. It's high time, he started working on making up to his parents and making them happy. He was done wasting years making them upset and mad.

"What are you talking about?" Hania asked in a totally confused voice.

"I'll marry the girl of your choice like you always wanted me to," And the image of his little neighbour flashed in front of his eyes as he said that. Which was so stupid.

What the hell was wrong with him these days?