บท 3: Chapter Three
"Ziza, your stupid boyfriend is calling... again." Ferran sighed after a peek at her phone screen.
"He's not stupid. Fezza we’ve talked about this. Stop calling him names. You know I don’t like it." She scowled at him. Ferran shrugged and silently did the mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key before giving the TV his full attention again. Shaking her head at his childish antiques, she reached for the vibrating phone on the coffee table.
It was the following night, Friday and they were hanging out at Ziza's place as per usual. It was their movie night. They always made it a point to have a movie night every last Friday of the month, taking turns to host it at each other’s house. So obviously, sometimes they had Ferran’s family join in on the fun. Though it at some point it became one of those second nature, take for granted things, deep down, she found it so sweet that, unless he had important things to take care of, he always made sure he made time for them to stay in touch, especially after the separate paths life set them on when her father took her away.
The both of them were cosy on her sofa with a huge bowl of popcorn and two large coke cans in the cup holder between them in the dark, small living room. Tonight was Ferran's turn to pick out a movie, which was something she always looked forward to. If there was anything the guy could do? It was selecting one heck of a good movie.
"Hey, Kev, what's up?" A face splitting grin lit her face up.
"Hi Ziz. How is your night?" Kevin's raspy voice whispered from the other end.
They’d been together for almost two years. ‘Love at first sight’ was their story. He was the charming final year music production exchange student from the U.S and she was the doe-eyed freshman. It was a match made in heaven.
Kevin had been a young amateur, but he was talented at what he did. School was more of a way to gain more knowledge rather, than it being his only ticket to making it in the industry. It’d only taken one look and Ziza had spotted the biggest crush on him in the history of crushes.
One night while at a dorm party, Ziza could have sworn she died and came back. The most handsome guy in school wanted her. Kevin asked her out, she said yes. He didn’t know it but he’d had her way before hello.
In her heart, everything was as it should be, except Ferran saw a different story altogether. He was never fond of him¬ from the onset. They’d countless fights over the same topic until Ziza got used to his ‘opinions’. At some point she’d suspected Ferran was jealous. That time would fix him up. Two years down the line, here they were, she’d mistaken hate for jealousy. Every time she confronted him, Ferran always insisted that he ‘just didn’t trust Kevin’. She gave up when she came to the conclusion that she’d never understand him.
"It's going great how's yours?"
"Fine. Kind of bored to be honest--"
“Noo!” She squealed in laughter, “Don’t say it, it’s so cliché.”
“…but I feel amazing now that you’re here.” They burst out laughing together like the two morons they were.
"I'm trying to watch a movie here!" Ferran complained.
"Oh hush." Ziza said, “Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear over the noise here." She stuck her tongue out at her friend.
"I asked what you were doing." He said.
"Oh nothing much, just watching a movie with you know who." She took a handful of popcorn, chucking some into her mouth.
"Again?"
"Come on, you know we do this every month," Ziza said.
"I know, I know." He sighed, “You know how I am with this ‘opposite sex and we’re the best of friends slash siblings’ thing.”
“I know. You know you don’t have anything to worry about.” She’d already knew Ferran was eavesdropping on their conversation, but like his typical childish self, he took it to the next level. He leaned over their snacks, intent on wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kiss her cheek, as if he was trying to make Kevin jealous through a voice call. But his plan backfired, because she quickly shrugged out of his reach and nailed him in the ribs.
“Hey at least we are spending the day together tomorrow, you can be excited about that. I know I am." She bit back her laughter when he doubled over, rubbing his torso.
"That's why I called,” The sudden change in his enthusiasm brought her to sit up straight, “ I know I said I will finish early tomorrow but I can't, something came up my love."
"No, but you promised Kevin," Ziza whined, causing Ferran to pause the movie and look at her, silently questioning what was wrong.
“Can't you like, push it to some other time? It's my birthday and a Saturday for pit's sake, Kev." With a dejected shake of her head, she showed him the thumbs down sign as she spoke. When Ziza saw the 'I saw this coming' look on his face she averted her gaze to the paused film instead. She didn’t feel up to kind of bull right now, all her plans for tomorrow had just gone down the drain. Disappointment bubbled in her. As it was, between their hectic and incompatible daily schedules, quality time with Kevin was difficult to plan. Now that she had more and more gigs lining up and exams to think about, that quality time was almost none existent. It was like their life together was slowly disappearing away and she could do nothing about it. Apart from, dropping by here and there at his workplace to share lunch, tomorrow would’ve been the first time she spoke to him in person in about two weeks. And they lived in the same city!
“I know babe, I'm really sorry about this. Your birthday was supposed to be special for us but, I have an important meeting with a promising client lined up for tomorrow and I can't reschedule it. I’ve already tried to but it didn’t work out, and then I have some important paperwork afterwards in the afternoon, but," he was quick to add, I will make it up to you, and I have a very big surprise to make it up to you." He said
“Really?" She smiled despite her frustration, even though it wouldn't make a difference since he couldn't see her. She couldn't help it.
"Really, please accept it as my apology present for blowing you off like this, I'm truly, deeply sorry my darling." He sounded genuine, that was good enough for her.
“I’ll have to see what the surprise is for that, so that I can decide whether or not to forgive you, ‘cause you know how I hate those."
“How could I ever forget, so I'll see you tomorrow night instead?" He asked
"Yeah, sure. Why not?" She nodded her head
"Sweet! I’ll see you then, I love you." He said
"I love you too." She sighed after hanging up the call.
"Boo to the shitty boyfriend." Ferran jeered loudly through the hands cupped around his mouth, making Ziza laugh.
"Come on he's not a shitty boyfriend. Stop, you’re making noise."
"Eh, I don't know considering he blew you off on your birthday and the day before that and the other date before that, I'd say he is." He raised his brow at her.
"He's just busy, that’s all. It could easily have been me cancelling on him too and you know that." She defended him even though deep down in her heart she knew Ferran was right.
"Come on, let's forget about that hot mess and go back to our fantastic movie." He pressed play then pulled her into his side to cuddle, which Ziza accepted and laid her head on his shoulder, suddenly feeling tired.
____
"Mother I see no point in carrying out this ridiculous plan. It's just a waste of money and time." Rafiq grumbled to the half-listening woman that was busy moving about, making final touches to the decorations for the welcome ball which was to be held that night in the grand palace gardens.
"Oh hush Rafiq, nothing is a waste when welcoming the crown prince back home after such a long time. The people need to see you." The queen took a few steps back to fully admire the way the lights blended in with the water flowing from the fountain which was acting as the centrepiece.
“But I do not want to be seen.” He grumbled
“My dear son. Go away, you’re only wasting your breath.”
"Two and a half years is not much." He argued
"When you're of royal blood it is. Especially you, this is the country you’ll rule one day after the King steps down. Isn't that beautiful." The queen gushed at the work before her, “how could you not love this." She gestured to the whole garden where servants were abuzz all around them making sure everything was ready.
"It is." He didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking at, and neither was he bothered as he followed the older woman who elegantly continued on with her stroll around, assessing all the work. Her majesty always possessed this air of grace and elegance where ever she went or with whatever she did. Be it advising the King on how to resolve certain, difficult state of affairs conflicts in the country or volunteering to help cook food on an open fire for the less privileged families in some of the villages in Dhakhar’s fringes. Now that was one woman who knew how to lead by example.
The queen was dressed in a beautiful, long-sleeved silk sapphire gown that seemingly flowed behind her with every supple move she made. It was as if the garment was an extension of her rather than being worn by her. Her dark hair was pulled back into a simple but neat braided ponytail that fell to the small of her back. A golden circlet adorned her head. She was nothing short of beauty both inside and out. Soft and kind, yet firm when the times circumstances it, the perfect queen many have and will only talk about being.
Queen Jameela may not be his biological mother but he checked all the other boxes that matter, and more. His father, King Zahir lost his first wife to an aggressive type of leukaemia, leaving behind a small baby and distraught husband. He grieved for his beloved for many years, leaving his baby son in the care of servants.
That same grief drove him to force a loveless life on his son. He taught Rafiq from an extremely young age, bonding with his caregivers was forbidden. Rafiq, at the age of nine, he questioned these things. That perhaps, in his father’s twisted and broken way, he was attempting to protect him, or perhaps it was for his son to not mistake any of them for his mother. Whatever the true reason behind his father’s actions, the fact still remained, it shaped him to be the man he was today. The man he was once again trying to control into doing his biding.
He never really had a mother until he was about six years old, after the King remarried two years later, to a well-respected Sheik's young daughter. Queen Jameela loved him, even when he himself had thought he hadn’t deserved that kind of love. And when he’s brother arrived, instead of hating him like she’d feared, Rafiq had welcomed baby Hassan into the world. The first time he held him in his small arms, he vowed to protect and love his brother until his dying breath. Till this day, he hasn’t stopped either.
"So stop complaining prince Rafiq and go prepare!” Her cheerful exclamation yanked his head from the clouds.
"I suppose there is no winning when arguing with you, I do not even know why I tried. Not even the King himself wins when he argues with you." He hissed and rubbed his arm where she’d pinched his for his teasing.
"I am glad you have finally understood that for once in your life." She laughed which made the prince chuckle and shake his head in amusement. He loved this woman.
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