Bad Guy. Duh.

Come to Dubai

Once we were seated and I had started the engine of my convertible, I turned towards my sister.

"So, where exactly does this friend of yours live?" I ask. She pushes her phone, which was displaying a GPS map, into a built in socket on the front board of the car. I pull out of the driveway. 

Fifteen minutes or so later, my car was parked in front of a mansion covered in floor-to-ceiling windows, with an intricately carved fountain on the front yard. With a sinking heart, I realized this was Maryam's house, a girl I met through a very unpleasant encounter at a party. Trust me, she was the type of person who flirted as much as she breathed. Wanting to get out of here before she noticed me, I pushed my sister out, turned the car and drove off towards Nikki beach where Baha had told us to meet. I was kinda late for the party, but it was better than going home and explaining to Fahaz why I'd taken the car out even though I wasn't supposed to. I knew he wouldn't tell, he never did, but why bother when you can enjoy food and pretty ladies? 

It was a thirty minute drive to the place, and afternoon when I got there. But, being Dubai, the sun was still scorching above. Parking the car, I got out and strolled towards the bar, where my friends were probably at.

"Yo, Ahmed!" I turned around. Baha. "Wassup man?" he asks. We do our handshake that we'd made up in third grade, before leaning back in one of the couches. 

"So, what took you so long?" he says with an evil smirk. I shoot him a dirty look.

"Nothing that you'd be interested in hearing," I say, "Where are the others?"

"Out swimming and shit," he replies, annoyed. Now it was my turn to smirk.

"Still scared of water?" I tease. He points his middle finger at my face, before sipping on his drink. Not alcohol, though. None of us drink. At least, not that I know of. I gesture a nice-looking waitress towards me, and order a Gold Carnival. She returns a minute later with a glass filled to the brim. I take it from her and tip it towards my mouth. For a moment, we just sit there, drinking juice, and remembering the past.  Suddenly, a voice drifts my direction, one I recognize all too well. Baha looks at me.

"Did you, by any chance, invite your parents?" he questions, brows furrowed.

"Nope," I answer, staring at the sand on the ground, heart pounding against my rib cage.

"Oh...shit," Baha says, looking past me, towards what I assumed were my mother and father. Oh, please, please, don't let them see my Mercedes. Prayers ran through my mind. I dared a look behind...and made direct eye contact with my father, who with the slightest raise of an eyebrow managed to communicate a death threat into my mind. 

"Oh, and there's my son," he said in a completely controlled voice to a man next to him. I gaped at my dad before correcting my gaze and walking up to my father's companion. My mom lingered at the back of the small group, shooting me a look filled with so much poison, it probably would've made me drop dead if I wasn't so used to it. I tried for a smile, a very painful action at that moment.

"Assalamu Walaikum," I greeted my dad's friend. He gave me a warm smile, totally oblivious to the let's-see-who-can-murder-Ahmed-the-fastest-with-our-eyes contest my parents were having.

"Walaikum Assalam," he greeted back, offering me his hand. I shook it. He was a muscular dude, wearing a tight-fitting, white, full-sleeve T-shirt that showed off his muscles and glasses, with a leather jacket draped over his back. I couldn't help but admire him instantly. Unlike my father dear, this guy had a modern sense of style.

"This is doctor Mohammad," my father introduces, "We met at the W.H.O. conference in Malaysia." I nod, not sure what else I was supposed to do. "He and his wife," my dad gestures at a elegant lady standing next to my mom, "are here to attend a meeting. They'll be staying at our place for the week." I continue bobbing my head up and down. 

"Oh, and," my dad keeps going, not wanting to give me the comfort of being done, "this is their daughter, Annonnya." He moves aside to reveal a girl about my age. Alarms go off in my mind, as she casually waves at me. I squint at my dad, wondering if he'd planned this. Perhaps they're arranging my marriage? Wait, no, I'm only sixteen. Damn it. 

"We should probably head to the office now," my mom speaks for the first time, "It's getting late." The adults all nod, and, just as I turn around to scutter back to the parking lot, my mom calls out. I turn back again, for the fifteen thousandth time today, jittery and impatient.

"Why don't you take Annonnya home with you, since you're heading that way? She's had a long day." My mom says it like a question but means it as a command, so I wait for the girl, uh, Annonnya to come forward. As the adults leave, together, we head down the parking lot. Halfway there, a familiar call makes me groan.

"Don't suppose I'll see you tonight, Ahmed!" Baha. Joined by the gang, snickering. I mouth a "fuck you" to them before proceeding towards my car. The girl, I mean Annonnya, gives them a side glance and pops earpods on, tuning out. Too bad I didn't have my pair on me.

We were halfway home when I remembered my sister was at a party with no means of transportation to get her home.

"Shit!" I mutter, banging the steering wheel. Annonnya, somehow not bothered, continues browsing through TikTok on her phone. Suddenly, she looks up and faces me.

"You listen to Why Don't We?" she asks. First time she's spoken to me. I only then realized that Come To Brazil was blasting in the car. Seeing her interest, I smile.

"Sometimes, yeah," I reply, leaning back, the rigidness of my back gone as fast as my awkwardness. Rule numero uno of hitting on a girl: play by her interests. 

"My friend loves that band," she says, "Me? Not so much." My confidence deflates like a balloon. It was as if she knew what I was thinking. 

"Did you miss a turn?" Her again. 

"No." I answer, curious, "Why?"

"Well, people don't normally swear in front of a guest," she answers with a sassy smile. Well, then. This chick was a hot player. Just the way I liked it.

"I forgot to pick up my sister."

"Oh. We should go back then. I really don't mind."

"Nah. Imma leave that for her boyfriend to do." Her laughter fills up my balloon of confidence once more.