You, Me & the Alter(cations) - Farmeed AU

2.

Umeed was sitting on the single sofa with her legs crossed, the laptop in her hand while she had photoshop open, editing the pictures before posting them on Instagram.

She enjoyed her work, and loved retaining her work to then present it on social media and boost her growth as well as strengthen her portfolio. Being a wedding planner, presentation and aesthetics were important.

Whilst she was reworking through the images, her phone chimed. She reached out for it hummed to the tune of bole chudiyan, and the humming stayed continuous as she unlocked her phone. It was from him..

Hi.

Umeed furrowed her eyebrows. She looked up to her message she had sent in the afternoon.

Hi Farjaad, hope this finds you well.

This is Umeed, Mrs Rubina Hashim shared your contact with me. I trust her consensus and judgements in regards to her recommendations, however I was hoping we could meet for a discussion at your earliest convenience? I think it's better we meet so we can have a clear understanding of each other's visions.

She was quite clear and to the point with her message. It should have made sense if he was typing more, however it just showed him as online.

Umeed waited for a few moments, going back to her final rendered image and airdropping it to her phone to upload.

Once uploaded she scanned her profile. Her instagram was looking arranged with the aesthetics and she scrolled down to make sure everything was in order. Her divisor was three courtesy of the layout of Instagram, and she made sure her picture collections were done in multiples of three.

Her phone buzzed, she looked down at the message.

Tomorrow, English Tea House, 12:00pm

What the hell?

She tried reacting, but only had her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the screen. What kind of demanding communication was this?

Umeed was not one who was frank or overtly joyous, however she had the basic etiquettes to communicate in a gracious manner. This was not mannerly or welcoming. And more than anything, this was giving a very negative image of him, which was not a good thing in Umeed's records.

She exhaled loudly, switching the phone off and placing it on the armrest. This was a worry for tomorrow, not now. For now, she had to finish laying out her pictures and make her profile pretty and appealing.

-

Farjaad walked to the glass sliding door of his balcony, staring out at nothing because of the smog. The weather was not supposed to be like this, but this was the truth of living in Lahore.

Spotify was displayed on the TV screen with the seventies playlist on shuffle.

He knew at the bottom of his heart that he should have been a bit nicer and open, but there was a risk that came with that.

She would have taken him lightly, and there was nothing more he hated than being taken for granted or being treated as a sidekick. He was a man who worked hard and worked well, he had a standard. And he needed to present himself like so otherwise she would have taken him lightly.

And what if she was the one with an attitude? Would Farjaad let someone boss him around and show dismissive behaviour? Never. He was already doing something out of bounds, he was already willing to collaborate with another planner. This was insulting in itself. He thought he did the right thing by being ambiguous.

He huffed, turning around and gasping when he felt the fur against his toes.

"Coco yaar!" He sighed, squatting down and holding his cat in his arms. "Marne waale thay tum." Farjaad mumbled, reaching down to the remote and turning the music and TV off, placing it back onto the table.