"The job so far went well and I'm able to cope with it," I answered briefly.

"So, enlighten me, Zahida because I'm a bit confused somehow," he went on emphasizing my name which I no longer find it annoying. "You claimed to be an orphan when you were at Rochdale but in UoM student database, you declared to have a parent, Jamal bin Osman"

"Jamal is my grandad, he's my contact for emergency back in KL," I clarified. "My parents and my brother, Zahidi died in an accident at a national park in Canada. My parents treated Zahidi for a road trip because he excelled in his first semester. Zahidi was an Ottawa University freshie. They were trying to avoid the caribous, went to the other side of the lane but collided with a trailer coming from the other side."

"Where were you then?"

"I was here, finishing my final IGCSE."

"Do you have anyone else in your family?" he asked again.

"Nope, just me and my grandad," I sighed. "I have a few other relatives but we weren't that close. They're the typical Malays, bunch of airheads mocking our accents, bitching about us, flexing at everything. We never like each other."

"What were your parents and your brother like?" he asked inquisitively.

"They're old school but cool type of parents. They would impose strict rules in the house but opened for justifiable suggestions to counter. Sometimes we win the pitch, sometimes we don't. My parents found each other at UoM, got married and moved back here for my Dad to complete his PhD. They had us a year later, I think. Zahidi and I were six minutes apart, I came out first. But he inherited Dad's and grandad's intelligence, while I inherited Mom's valorous attitude. We moved to KL when we were toddlers after Dad graduated, lived there for another five or six years and returned here when Dad got himself a job at Oldham.

"I couldn't read until I was eight, my parents thought I had dyslexia but I wasn't. I just see bunch letters as images separately but not something that were constructed into words. So when we moved back from KL, they decided to put me to Year 1 to start new when I was supposed to be in Year 2. Zahidi's intelligence aced him to Year 3 straight. Some of Mom's nosy cousins would consider me as a black sheep but not for my parents and Zahidi, they knew me better and loved me to the brim no matter what. I remember getting the entire Spice Girls dolls, one doll for each subject whenever they saw improvements in my grades, Zahidi would get a handshake from Dad and a lolly from Mom if he scored straight As. He was cool with it.

"When they told me of the news, it was a real blow to me. I first thought that they got the wrong family. I remembered a few authorities paid me visits, Headmaster McKenzie was there, the counsellor, one guy from the embassy, some from the MCOT – Malaysian Community of Old Trafford. I felt absolutely gutted after that because I just lost my support group, I lost my everything. When my grandad arrived the next morning, he came to my aid.

"My grandad moved in here temporarily to look after me the way my parents would, making sure grief would not overcome me. After I finished my Sixth Form at Rochdale and was on a 2 + 2 years' contract at Old Trafford, my grandad returned to KL resuming his academician work. When my contract ended, I worked with Yosef for about half a year before travelled back to KL to live with my grandad and took up a subtitling job in a local media company. But it lasted for a couple of years because I struggled to cope with Malaysia's ridiculous cost of living, toxic working culture and a bitch boss. I came back on a visitor pass, worked with Yosef until I overstayed for a couple more years before I applied at UoM."

"I admit, you had strong, supportive, well connected people in your family," he finally commented after attentively listening to my history without interruptions, the way Milla did. "Were affections the only foundation?"

"I guess," I replied. "But we hold on to our principles guided by belief which makes us appreciate little things and prosper at everything around us."

"Interesting. What's your religion if I may ask?"

"You can't tell that I'm a Muslim from my name?" I asked, puzzled.

"It's an Arabic name, that's not a Muslim name," Nick opined. "You can't assume every Zahida is a Muslim. Rami Said Malek is not a Muslim. So which sect do you belong to? Shia or Sunni? Or Ahmadi?"

"Sunni," I answered briefly. "Abs told me you're a Shia."

"My parent's a Shia," he answered frankly. "Abs' a Shia too. I'm an atheist."

"You were born an atheist?"

"Nope, I denounced when my mother died," he replied.

"Oh," I mouthed. I saw the strain on his face when he mentioned his mom, the same sorrow I felt thinking of mine.

"You've nerves of steel to back him up even at the expense of your life. What were you trying to prove?" Nick randomly popped up a question on Abs. I laughed at this because I don't know how to answer, knowing that I had channelled my means for the wrong ends.

"Seriously, I don't know," I shook my head. "Abs and I have been friends since Rochdale. We were platonic at first but I wanted more than just friends. So I did everything to prove him that I am worthy, even if it means going beyond my means. But the more I did it, the more he made me feel less of a person."

Nick chuckled, "Yeah, that's the Abs I know. So you did it because you had a crush on him?"

"Deranged person do unthinkable things out of crush I supposed," I shrugged.

"I understand where you're coming from and that's okay to some extent. But friendly advice from a wise python to a deranged rodent like you."

I laughed at his cynical remark especially when he couldn't move on with me calling him 'python'. "Okay, shoot."

"In a context of endearment, if the going gets tough, you need to reassess your options," he began. "Go for the one most cost effective with more returns, even if it means divesting the relationship."

"Agree but in a context of endearment, decisions are mostly driven by heart," I argued.

He rolled his eyes to my statement. "It is easy to determine an idiot; the characteristics are blaring. If that person decided to go through hurdles that lead to nowhere, then that person is an idiot. If that person proceeds further and gets hurt along the way knowing that nothing good would come out from it, that person is an idiot. If that person doesn't learn from past mistakes, that person is an idiot. If that person..."

"I get it, an idiot," I giggled. "Was I really like that?"

"Well, if the shoe fits, why not?"