ENTANGLED AND HEARTS (Her Price For Dreams) [COMPLETED]

CHAPTER 5: For the sake of LOVE💗(RAYAN)

Rayan's POV

Me: "What does your father do for a living, Maryam?"

Maryam: "He's an Arabic calligrapher, just like my grandfather. We have a long family history of preserving this art form."

Me: "That's beautiful."

Maryam: "Although, my father doesn't earn much. For him, it's more about devotion to Islam than a source of income."

Me: "He's truly inspirational. You must be very proud of him."

Maryam: "Yes, Alia, I am. And my younger sister is taking this art to new heights by blending traditional techniques with modern art. She's incredibly talented."

I chat with Maryam every night before bed. She's so peaceful and soothing to talk to.She is an amazing person.Struggling to be a civil servent so she can escape getting married by giving dowry.She told me about her dream of empowering women from her small village.It so impressive that she volunteers in a NGO working for women empowerment.After knowing about her personality through these text my feelings for her grew from a crush to something more.

I met her the other day when I planned our brunch meetup. It was my plan to see her.Alia agreed since she wanted that solo trip desperately.

Suddenly ,My heart sinks thinking it wrong to betrey her like this.I cant do this longer.Fake chatting her being Alia is wrong ,I know it but I cant help it.I want to know her,I want to be with her,I want to talk to her the whole night.

I want to reveal my true identity,i want to make amend,but fear of rejection and hurtling this connection keeps me silent.

As I tie my shoes, I overhear a conversation nearby.

"What's up with Samar? He never attended any games before, but suddenly he's at every match," one person says.

"I don't know, man. He's taking away our attention.," another boy replies with a smile.

The first person continues, "I've noticed he's always searching for someone. His eyes are constantly scanning the crowd."

The second boy chimes in, "Yeah, it's like he's looking for someone specific."

I glance up, curious, and realize they're right. Samar's eyes sweep the stadium, his gaze lingering on each section.

Aditya chimed in, "Don't tell me, he is looking for a girl friend."

Rohan nodded, "Well, it looks like he is looking for a girlfriend."

Vikas added, with a hint of amusement, "Samar Ibrahim, don't do that. You know him.He stays away from girls."

Another boy joked, "Then what could it be? Is he bodyguarding the stadium?"

The group shared a laugh.

Aditya asked, "But seriously, whom is he looking for?"

Rohan shrugged, "No idea, but Samar's been scanning the crowd like a hawk."

The crowd cheers as I step onto the court, my 2017 batch jersey proudly in place. We're facing off against the 2019 batch in the semifinals.

The referee tosses the ball up, and I leap into action, tapping it to my teammate, Aditya.

"Let's go." our supporters chant.

I sprint down the court, weaving past defenders. My teammates move in sync.

I sink a three-pointer, and the crowd erupts.

Halftime score: 2017 leads 35-20.

In the second half, 2019 pushes back, but our defense holds strong.

Final whistle blows: 2017 wins 65-50!

We high-five and hug each other, ecstatic.

"How did we make it to the finals?" Aditya asks, grinning.

Our team cheers, reliving the thrill of those victories.

Now, we face our toughest challenge: the 2016 batch in the finals.

"Bring it on!" our captain, Vikas, shouts.

The crowd roars, anticipating an epic showdown.

As we enter the changing room, excitement and nerves mix in the air.

"Finals, baby!" Aditya shouts, pumping his fist.

Vikas grins. "Time to bring home that trophy."

But Rohan's expression turns serious.
"Guys, we can't underestimate 2016. Samar Ibrahim's on their team."

Vikas rubs his chin thoughtfully. "We need a solid strategy to contain him."

As we analyze 2016's gameplay, admiration for Samar Ibrahim fills the room.

"Hands down, Samar's the best team leader in Delhi Elite School's history," Vikas says.

Rohan nods vigorously. "Unmatched court vision, incredible work ethic...A true basketball beast."

Aditya adds, "And his ability to stay calm under pressure? Unbeatable."

Rohan shakes his head in awe. "Samar's the complete package: skill, strategy, and charisma."

I nod. "But He can't carry the team alone.we have a whole week to plan our strategy"

I rush into the apartment, worry etched on my face. "Mom, what's wrong? You texted that you are sick."

Mom sits comfortably at the dinner table. "If I asked you to come for dinner, would you listen?"she says and Alia looks at me embarassed.

My expression shifts from concern to frustration. "Mom, why did you do that"

"You always make excuses to avoid family meals," she says, her face with a tinch of anger. "I wanted to ensure you'd come."she adds

I clench my fist, anger rising. "That clearly means I don't want to join these pointless dinners."

Mom's voice remains calm. "Sit down, Rayan."

I hate these things ,having dinners, pretend like a family.I hate it,i hate it from the core of my heart.just to ignore these i chose to stay at hostel but mom always force me to do these things.

" Is Samar arrived." Waqas calls out from the kitchen.

Mom's expression turns frustrated. "No, Waqas. Not yet."

Waqas comes to the dining area removing his apron.

"Look at you, Waqas, cooking for him, being the owner of one of the biggest IT company. Yet, he doesn't even bother with your care," Mom says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Waqas's expression remains calm, but a hint of hurt flickers in his eyes. "Tara, you know Samar; he doesn't like to show off his emotions."

I think to myself, "Show emotions? He doesn't have any emotions for you, Waqas. How pathetic.but I enjoy it,i enjoy samar ignores him,he deserves this.I hate him so much,he ruined my happy family.I cant forget what he did to my father he was a bussiness partner but he trapped my father in bankrupty and I hate Mom for marrying this man for money.She failed as a wife and as a mother as well.

Waqas's voice breaks the silence. "I'll try calling him again."

The phone rings, but Samar doesn't pick up.

Just then, the doorbell rings. The worker opens it, and Samar walks in.

He strides into the dining room, and takes a seat beside Waqas. His expression remains cold, unyielding.

No greeting, no acknowledgement. Just silence.

Waqas's eyes light up with warmth. "Samar, I made your favorite barbeque."

Samar's gaze doesn't waver, his voice flat. "Thanks.But I dont like it anynore."

He says and starts serving himself.Waqas remain silent and dissapointment echoes on his face. "Okay ,then try these tacos." Waqas says pushing a plate forward.

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