I'd Tell You My Dreams but Then You'd Better Say Yes

Chapter 4 - Who does she think she is?

"Only the whole world? Sure the moon isn't included?" Her father asked zanily.

"Har-har Dad, very funnily." Arifa flatlined. "Honestly, I don't know why your comedy career didn't boom. I'm sure Steve from your marketing crew taught you everything you know."

Steve was a silent, nerdy guy with bottle-top glasses working for her dad, who many speculated was mute because he only ever communicated by text, email, or rapid nods or shakes of his head.

Being a man liking as little words commenting on his business as possible, her dad approved.

"Hey, cheeky!" Her father furrowed his brows playfully, then stroked his stubble-beard. "Reminds me, I need to throw them a nice dinner thing for all their hard work, like we do every year."

Hanifa rolled her hazel eyes, eyes that caught the light easily and reflected it back. "Nothing extravagant." She sniffed, looking at him disapprovingly already, her narrowed eyes scrutinising him as if they could pick out his thoughts like hummingbirds pick out worms to devour.

"Oh please Nifs. Don't advise me about money. I make it, I spend it. Simples."

Arifa knew now was the time to stop this conversation before her mum and dad got their lightsabers out and started a sith-jedi battle before her eyes.

Which would just be silly. Because she had the answer to their problems right here.

"Let's have it at Stonehenge!"

And with that, a whole new cycle of events started.

At first her mum had been cynical, and her father found her 'cute' efforts laudable. Her baby brothers joyfully drooled over her keyboard as they looked at the pretty colours on her screen, while she single-mindedly designed and choreographed the event retinue, the schedule, booked an outdoor tent that looked like a forest, hired the chefs, sent letters out to Druid websites to try and persuade them not have their pilgrimage on this particular day etc. Heck, making and staring at a colour-scheme of grey and green for four weeks on end would drive anyone insane.

But not Arifa. As much as she'd slightly dreaded getting started, now, she wouldn't stop.

A trailer was even filmed of the event's venue and posted on her youtube channel. With the right tags and title, it soon got 500 views! Even while hiding her famous dad! Arifa wolf-whistled to herself as she saw the likes

There were also some awesome comments, but there was this one nasty person called ''shaquille_oatmeal" who always pointed out some tiny error and made a big deal of it. And trolled.

With stuff like 'The title sequence was too long.' or 'That image is off google. Do you have the rights to use it?', or 'That image is so pixelised I feel like I'm playing Space Raiders watching it'.

But after the initial teeth-grinding, Arifa learned to be grateful. With each correction, her video-making skills slowly got better. 

Her father would acknowledge her, and maybe even her mother who sometimes looked, frowning, over her daughters shoulder as she worked, would perhaps feel an sesame see of pride in her heart. Arifa chewed her lip as she thought about it.

It was no secret to Arifa that she often felt overshadowed by her mother. Like a small flowering weed next a bright, beaming sunflower, so high above her that she lived in its shadow. The ugly duckling in a nest of gleaming, talented swans.

Little did she know that in Arifa, Hanifa saw, and feared, and was in reluctant awe of the woman she herself could never be. The woman her daughter was becoming.

The woman who was in grasping reach of the stars. But would she ever catch those dreams?

'Or will she end up like me?' her mother silently fretted.