بسْمِ ٱللَّٰهِ ٱلرَّحْمَٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ
In The Name Of Allah, The Most Beneficent, The Most Merciful

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

The body needs food to eat and drinks to intake. If either of them lacks, the body will demand the necessities, whereas the soul is neither aware of food nor gender or music. Rather, it is such a creation that is only conscious of its Creator.

It wants to sustain and strengthen the relationship between itself and its Lord. And when it fails to do so, it becomes anxious. And the anxiousness transforms into desertness which overcomes the body. To ward off loneliness, a human then addicts itself to a higher form of worldly pleasure, oblivious that it will only bring more sickness to the soul.

Standing behind her, Eva, the choreographer giggles as she looks at whom the vocalist is deadly glaring at.

"Looks like Grayson Hart has set his eyes on you." Eva teases her.

Wafa snaps her head to the choreographer, "I'll take his eyeballs off of his skull before I leave." She grits, enunciating each syllable clearly and crisply. "Who does he think he is?"

The vocalist again looks back at Hart with rage and regrets her actions as his smirk only gets wider and wider, observing the havoc he is wrecking inside of her, adding fuel to her fury.

"Argh! The wit of this man!" Wafa huffs, turning to Evangeline while her back faces him.

"Seriously, who is he? I've never met him before."

Eva, with her mouth agape, just looks at her in utter shock. One, because Wafa talked about ripping his eyes off. Two, she isn't jumping to the seventh heaven because Grayson Hart has shown interest in her. And three, because she doesn't even know who Grayson Hart is!

"You really don't know?" She asks the brown-haired girl with an innocent countenance. For a woman said to be twenty years old, she seems to be in her early teens with her baby features.

"I just met him today." Wafa deadpans.

"Grayson Hart is the owner of The DiamonBlack. He also holds the title of the youngest self-made billionaire in America." Evangeline informs.

Her eyes widen a fraction before they become deadly again.

This is news to Wafa.

The vocalist scowls. "Why out of all the ladies--" She gestures at them with her eyes, "dressed more temptingly with bodies and clothes more seductive than mine, displaying all their assets, has he taken a liking in me then?!"

Ah, the bitter truth of society. The insecurity of some women. They believe the prettier they look, the more revealing clothes they wear, and the more the boys ask them out will elevate their worth in society.

For a span of a few seconds, the choreographer blankly stares at the vocalist, then smiles warmly.

"Usually flowers are admired because of their beauty and sweet fragrance, attracting the equally beautiful nightingales, the hummingbirds, and their other species to taste the nectar." Eva tilts her head to the side, observing Wafa with her honey eyes. "Say, what type of a flower are you? You are beautiful and intelligent. And you have a good social status, so why you don't let birds come to you and like you? Unless you are--"

Eva's soft voice hits Wafa's ears, and her eyes widen. To this inquiry, she has no answer.

"I am not gay."

"I apologize for my bluntness." She awkwardly chuckles while pulling loose strands of hair behind her ears. "It's just-- I've known you guys for a while now, especially Kyle, and I've heard quite about you from him--"

A feeling of insecurity looms over Wafa's head. What could he possibly tell about me? That I'm way too conservative? Too irrational? Nothing fun is about me? That I waste my life? That I don't even drink and go to clubs like the other women?

Eva giggles, "Literally, every time we met, he would always say such good things about you. He told me stories about how you guys would sneak out during the interviews, how you both have the same taste in books and possess the same mentality in regards to certain things."

Upon hearing it, Wafa's face lits while Eva's expression drops into somberness. And when Wafa is about to ask about her solemn fizzog, a ruckus behind them steals their attention.

Both the ladies turn their heads to the source.

"Wafa and Gray-- Wafa and Gray-- Wafa and Gray--"

Alarmed by the sudden hooting, the vocalist gazes at the group of men and women screaming her name, causing horror to pour down on her form. Her heartbeat wildly beats in her ribcage as unexpectedly, nude women grab her arms from both sides and drag her to the table where the people are cheering. Water from their bodies soaks Wafa's jacket and maxi, and the vocalist eyes it in disgust. They then push her to the center, and luckily the brown-haired girl gains balance just in time, saving her from falling onto an unfamiliar man's lap.

"WAFA AND GRAY, MAKING OUT UNDER THE TREE, K-I-S-S-I-" People loudly hoot and clap, leaving a startled-looking Wafa to stand in the middle.

"What the heck?!" The vocalist exclaims. "What's going on?"

Out of the blue, again, some females come behind her and shove her to where Grayson is standing. Unluckily, this time she doesn't gain balance and collides straight with Grayson's chest.

"Woah, careful there." Holding her upper arms, he coos at her with mischief lingering in his cat-like eyes.

The air around them is rusty and impure, with people smoking weeds and cigars, drunk and passing out as if no tomorrow is promised to them as if this life is all that they are striving for as if they will never taste death. But ironically, they live in a deceiving lie.

"Don't touch me," She struggles against his grip. "Grayson. Let. Go." Wafa grits with steely eyes.

But he does the opposite. He pulls her more into him with a smirk playing on his lips.

"HEY!" The vocalist pushes his chest to release herself from his tight grip but fails miserably.

"Oh, come on! Don't be shy." Grinning, Collymore speaks with his drink raised at her. "We're playing darts! It's the last round, and Gray is winning. But he lacks a queen. So be his queen for tonight."

Wafa takes a deep breath, restraining herself from lashing out at him. "I said, let. Go. Of me!" She spits, completely ignoring Collymore's speech.

He leans down to her. "Why so hasty, sweetie? Enjoy the night with me." Hart whispers with a devilish aura around him.

Why is she playing hard to get?

What an ungrateful @#>? she is!

It's a pity Grayson chose her. I mean, look at her. Such an ugly @#>?!

She acts so high and mighty. I bet she has slept with all her band members countless times.

I wonder if he'll spend the night with her. Oh God! Why did he look in that @#>?

Her breathing becomes heavy, her heart beating loudly as the snide remarks hit her eardrums. The tip of her nose stings as tears gather in her eyes, people mocking her and slandering her character.

Wafa then takes her arms under his hold, and with all her strength, she bangs her fists against his cubital fossa. Yelping in pain as the unexpected attack takes him off his guard, Grayson's grip loosens.

Grasping the opportunity, the vocalist rolls her hands out of his grip and then throws a punch at his jaw.

Gasps fill the air. The air stills. Everyone quietens. Even the DJ stopped playing the ear-bursting music.

"I said don't touch me!" Her voice booms as she angrily yells at an equally angry man rubbing his jaw. His hair falls over his eyes, concealing them from everybody's view. And perhaps it is for the best. Because if anyone could see it, they'd dig their own graves out of fear because of the wrath birthing in them and traveling along his veins.

Grayson Hart has been smacked!

That insolent woman! She hurt Grayson, but he was only helping her!

She is so disgusting. I heard all Muzlems are destruction lovers, and she is too!

I can't even breathe the same air as her.

Did you film it? Bro, it'll get viral over the internet!

Grayson shouldn't have shown interest in her. I know what women like her do. They try hard to get just to seek attention.

Poor Gray! He should really stay from Muzlems.

Murmurs erupt. She looks around and finds scornful glares directed at her. Treacherous tears slide down her face upon hearing them utter nuisance about herself. Her chest heaves and falls in pain.

"WHAT THE @#>!? IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Alan yells at her loudly, pulling her back from the hood of her denim jacket.

"Alan!" Kyle jumps in and releases the hood from his grip.

He turns to Wafa, his eyes softening. "Leave, Wafa. Go home."

And she does exactly the same. Wafa steps back as different cameras of mobile phones are pushed to her face. The flashes blind her eyes, so she quickly pulls her hood over her head and runs to her car.

Woeful cries escape her trembling lips, and hot tears kiss her cheeks. Witnessing the maiden accelerating her car away from Alan's villa with a broken heart, the sky, too, begins to cry out of sorrow. The clouds then thunder out of fury.

This was something she did not anticipate. She went there looking for something to fill the emptiness of her heart, to blow away the newfound darkness homing in her chest. But it all went downhill.

The darkness is still there, the emptiness still exists, and the cloud of loneliness is still haunting her.

When Wafa reaches home, she dashes straight into her room and throws away her jacket. She then quickly strips out of her maxi into jersey sleepwear as the pungent smell of weed still lingers on the outfit, mocking her with memories Wafa wished never existed.

And tonight perhaps sleep will not embrace her body like the previous nights. The vocalist lays on her bed with a fuzzy cushion clutched tightly in her grip against her chest, attempting to ease the internal pain anguishing in her bosom.

I should've just left when I found out what kind of party it was. I shouldn't have gone there in the first place. I should've clung to my word of not going. This is-- my fault. I had transgressed against myself. And now I pay the consequences. Ya, Rabb! What have I done? What have I done against myself? Forgive me, my Lord! Forgive me.

(O Lord)

Her heart aches even more as the vocalist loudly sobs. Her body feels so heavy, so stiff. Tonight she desires somebody to hold her tightly, to feel the warmth of another body with a beating heart.

Indeed ironic it is, Wafa was the girl who thought of herself as independent, a girl who did not need that kind of love. She was the girl who thought of staying single her entire life because-- after witnessing how her bandmates had breakups and heartbreaks every other month, she had become hopeless about finding the right guy who would grow old with her and still admire her until his last breath.

"Hasbunallahu-Ni'mal Wakeel. Wa-Ni'mal Maula wa Ni'mal Naseer." Yet, these words repeatedly escape the vocalist's lips between her sobs.

(Allah is Sufficient for us, and He is the Best Disposer of affairs)

And miraculously, it brings peace to her soul. The supplication of the man whose father turned his back on him, to whom the people of his own city were against him, Prophet Ibrahim (peace be upon him).

And with the continuous tick-tock of the clock, soon Wafa finds herself in the realms of her dreamland, only to be awoken after a couple of hours by the blaring sound of the phone call from a fretful-looking Sofia.

⊱ ⋆ ⊰

| HADITH |

The Prophet (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him), as narrated by Abu Hurayrah: "When any one of you fights, let him avoid (striking) the face."

-Narrated by al-Bukhaari, al-Fath, 5/215).

| AUTHOR'S NOTE |

This is chapter is very special for me. Many, many memories have been connected with it.
I hope you've enjoyed as well. Share your thoughts.

- W A L I Y A H