City Lights and Magic Nights with Ali and Jazz

The Encounter

The sweltering sun of Riyadh was high in the sky, casting a sharp brilliance across the city. Ali squinted against its intensity as he stepped out of the gates of the university, his backpack slung over one shoulder. His phone buzzed in his hand—a message from his mother, reminding him to pick up groceries on his way home. Smiling to himself, he slid the phone back into his pocket, determined to make it quick so he could return to his studies.

The university grounds, an expansive and modern campus, were a world far removed from the humble neighborhood he lived in. Ali often felt like an outsider here, but his hard-earned scholarship had been his ticket into a world where power, wealth, and prestige ruled. Even though his clothes weren't tailored and he didn't drive a luxury car like many of his classmates, Ali carried himself with quiet confidence, an inner pride in what he had achieved.

He made his way across the main courtyard, passing groups of students gathered around the shaded benches, their voices mixing with the sounds of the afternoon. As he neared the entrance to the library, he felt it—a flicker of tension in the air. His gaze swept across the courtyard and landed on a small crowd forming near the fountain.

There she was.

Jasmine, or Jazz as her friends affectionately called her, stood at the center of the attention as she always did. Dressed in sleek, casual designer jeans and a loose white blouse that fluttered slightly in the breeze, she radiated a magnetic presence. Her long dark hair, effortlessly tousled, caught the sunlight, creating an almost halo-like effect around her face. Her beauty was striking, yes, but there was something more—something about the way she held herself. Confident. Unapologetic. And yet, there was a sharpness in her eyes, a fierce intelligence that set her apart from the crowd that flocked around her.

Ali had seen her before, of course. Everyone knew who she was. The princess of a royal family that was both revered and envied, Jazz was not just royalty by blood, but royalty in every other sense too. Despite her privileged background, she had carved out her own identity—known for her sharp mind, her wit, and her reputation for speaking her mind in lectures, much to the dismay of certain professors.

Ali shook his head slightly. People like her belonged to a different world. The kind of world he had no business in, no matter how many scholarships or awards he earned. He had been careful not to draw attention to himself around students like her, knowing the gulf that separated them.

But today was different.

As Ali was about to turn and leave, he heard the shrill revving of an engine. A bright red sports car pulled up, obnoxiously loud, drawing more eyes. The driver—a man in his early twenties, dressed in designer everything—stepped out with a swagger that reeked of entitlement. He sauntered over to Jazz, his grin wide and confident. From the murmurs of the crowd, Ali caught his name—Salman, the son of a high-ranking official. And by the look of him, it was clear that he was used to getting exactly what he wanted.

"Jazz," Salman drawled, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "I've been waiting to catch you. Dinner tonight? I've got a reservation at the new rooftop place."

Ali saw Jazz's lips curve into a small, tight smile. Polite, but distant. "Thanks, Salman, but I'm busy tonight."

Salman's grin faltered slightly, but he wasn't deterred. "Come on, just one night. You're always busy. I can change that."

Before Jazz could respond, something snapped inside Ali. He wasn't sure why—maybe it was the audacity in Salman's tone, or maybe it was the arrogance that came with his wealth. Or maybe it was because, for the first time, Ali saw a flicker of annoyance in Jazz's eyes, as if she were trapped in a conversation she didn't want to be a part of.

Before he knew what he was doing, Ali found himself walking toward the fountain.

"Hey," he called out, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd. All eyes turned to him, including Jazz's. She raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

Ali stepped forward, ignoring the weight of the stares. "She said she's busy, man. Maybe take the hint."

For a moment, there was silence. Salman stared at him, disbelief flickering across his face, as if he couldn't believe someone had dared to challenge him. "And who the hell are you?" he sneered.

Ali shrugged casually, trying to keep his pulse steady. "Just someone who can hear."

The crowd tensed, sensing the growing tension. Salman took a step closer to Ali, his chest puffed out, his voice dripping with condescension. "You have no idea who you're talking to, do you?"

Ali met his gaze, unfazed. "Doesn't matter."

For a split second, Ali thought Salman might take a swing at him. But before anything could escalate, Jazz intervened. She stepped forward, her eyes flashing with something Ali couldn't quite place—was it amusement? Admiration?

"That's enough," she said, her voice calm but commanding. She turned to Salman, her smile now completely gone. "I said no, Salman. I think you should leave."

Salman's face reddened, his bravado crumbling under Jazz's firm gaze. He muttered something under his breath before turning on his heel and storming back to his car. The crowd slowly began to disperse, sensing that the show was over.

Jazz turned to Ali, her expression unreadable. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. He could feel the intensity of her gaze, the weight of her presence.

"Thank you," she said finally, her voice softer than he expected. "I didn't need the help, but I appreciate it."

Ali gave a small nod, unsure of what to say. Up close, she was even more striking than he had imagined. "No problem," he managed, his voice steady.

There was a pause, then Jazz tilted her head slightly, studying him. "You're... different, aren't you?" she mused. "You're not afraid."

Ali met her gaze, his heart pounding. "Maybe I just don't have as much to lose."

Her lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "We'll see about that."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Ali standing by the fountain, the world around him suddenly feeling a lot more complicated than it had been just moments before.