Hamza wasn’t himself. Everyone could see it. The usual spark in his eyes was gone, replaced by a hollow, distant look that made even Shahaan feel uneasy. Hamza had always been the upbeat one, the guy who shrugged off bad days like they were nothing. But now? Now he was just... lost.
Shahaan sat on the bleachers, watching Hamza aimlessly kick a football around on the field. His movements were sluggish, uncoordinated, like he was going through the motions without really being there. The sight broke something in Shahaan’s chest. This wasn’t the Hamza he knew.
Saysha sat beside him, her hand gently resting on his thigh. “We can’t just leave him like this,” she murmured, her eyes full of concern. “He’s drowning in his own thoughts. You know what that feels like.”
Shahaan nodded. He did know. Too well.
“Come on,” Saysha continued, nudging him softly. “Let’s talk to him. Maybe we can help him feel less... alone.”
Shahaan sighed, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray thread handing lose from the scarf over Saysha’s face. He could see the pain in Hamza’s eyes from here, the way his shoulders slumped, the way he avoided everyone. It reminded him of a time not so long ago when things weren’t so smooth between him and Saysha.
"Yeah," Shahaan finally said, standing up. “You’re right.”
They made their way to the field, the grass crunching beneath their shoes. Hamza was still lost in his own world, his back turned to them as he continued to kick the ball without aim.
“Hamza,” Shahaan called out softly.
Hamza stopped, his foot hovering over the ball before letting it drop. He turned around, his face unreadable. But Shahaan didn’t miss the redness in his eyes, the way his lips trembled slightly, like he was holding back something he didn’t want to admit.
“What are you guys doing here?” Hamza asked, his voice hoarse.
Saysha smiled gently, stepping forward. “We’re here for you, Hamza. That’s what friends do.”
Hamza looked away, his jaw tightening as he blinked rapidly, trying to keep his composure. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “It’s nothing. I just need to figure things out.”
Shahaan exchanged a glance with Saysha, who nodded in encouragement. He sighed and sat down on the grass, gesturing for Hamza to join them. “Come on, man. We’ve all been there. You don’t have to pretend with us.”
Hamza shook his head, his throat tightening. “It’s just… Divangshi. Everything was fine, and now she’s avoiding me. Like I don’t even exist. And Anuj? I don’t know what’s going on between them, but it’s killing me.” His voice cracked, and he quickly wiped his eyes, trying to hide the tears that had begun to well up. “I can’t stand seeing them together.”
Shahaan exchanged a glance with Saysha, the weight of Hamza’s pain settling over both of them. It was a look they knew all too well, the same turmoil that had once defined their own relationship. They had been through their share of storms, and the remnants of that pain still lingered, even if they didn’t talk about it anymore.
Hamza looked up at them, his eyes glassy. “How did you guys do it? How did you get through everything? The fights, the misunderstandings, all of it?” His voice was raw, laced with desperation. “How did you not just… give up?”
The question hit both Shahaan and Saysha harder than they expected. There was a look in Shahaan’s eyes, one of long-buried pain, of memories that had taken root and never truly left. Saysha’s expression softened, her fingers curling around Shahaan’s hand, squeezing gently.
