Malika Bashir had a darkened view of the world. Ibrahim Ahmad refused to see anything but the light.
Soon, a friend from the past appears at Ibrahim's doorstep and a mysterious set of letters are left in his bedroom. Old conflicts are raised and ne...
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"This was a mistake. I'm running away."
Those are the words that greeted Ibrahim as he stepped into Shahriar Kabir's house on the day of his wedding. He found his high school friends gathered in the groom's bedroom. Shahriar had one leg out of the window and Zakariya was holding him back by the collar of his shirt. Aryan was quietly watching the scene unfold.
Ibrahim stilled as his eyes landed on the latter boy. He could see the surprise in Aryan's eyes as well. The two hadn't seen each other since their fall out at Zakariya's house, fresh out of high school. They held their gazes for a moment, then Aryan slightly dipped his head in recognition and looked away. Ibrahim did the same.
"Don't be ridiculous, Shorty," Zakariya chided, bringing Ibrahim's attention back to the crisis in hand.
"You're my friend! You're supposed to help me elope from my wedding," Shariar cried frantically.
"That poor girl willingly wasted years of her life with you. You're not leaving her at the altar."
Shariar's eyes landed on Ibrahim. They went wide. "You!" he cried, hands clutching the window sills tightly as his leg still dangled in the air. "How did you let this happen? You were supposed to be my voice of reason!"
"It's just wedding day nerves," Ibrahim said. "You need to calm down."
"Also, we stopped trying to reason with you years ago, Shorty," Zakariya said pointedly.
"I have traitors for friends." He shifted his disbelieving eyes from one guy to the other. "I'll just run away by myself." He decided. "Let go!" Shahriar barked at Zakariya as he tugged at the collar that was still in the bespectacled boy's fist.
Aryan calmly walked into the scene and picked up the glass of water on the bedside table. Then he walked closer to the window and emptied the contents of the glass on Shahriar's face.
The sudden act caught him by surprise. Shahriar widened his eyes at Aryan, water dripping from his face. Oi!" he cried."Why'd you do that?"
Aryan casually shrugged a shoulder. "You'll thank me later, buddy."
Ibrahim expected Shahriar to keep fighting but the fire faded from his eyes. The guy slumped his shoulders as he looked at his friends defeatedly. Fine," he spit out. "I'll get married if that's all you want."
He pulled his leg back inside as he fixed his collar. Then Shahriar went to the bathroom to wipe his face clean.
"Wow, I can't believe that worked," Zakariya murmured under his breath once Shahriar left the room, his amused eyes landing on Aryan.
A smile quirked up Aryan's lips. "Same, man," he said. "I did it because I just always wanted to throw a glass of water on someone's face."
"You know, Malik, I think that degree in Psychology will come in very handy."
