He wasn't talking to anyone, not really thinking about his next step for higher studies, not really eating much, not really wanting to do anything at all. Bilal had only tried to call once, and didn't bother to come to his house. His mother was worried, father angry for not thinking seriously about his future, Owais was distant, like he had been for the past ten years. Hadi never understood what it was he wanted to do with the already established company of their father that he invested so much of himself for the business. They'd drifted apart after he joined their father in his office not really finding anytime for the two of them. Hadi didn't notice his absence much for he was in high school back then, and high school brought with it it's own thrills, and then he was in college, an entirely new experience, with much harder studies. And above all, he had his friends to be with, he had Bilal.
Life was harder, something it had never been for him, life was harsh, and unfair. A brutal blend of all three, mixed roughly at the same time, giving Hadi a combined taste of all.
It had been some days, he spent brooding regretting every day of the last year, regretting involving himself too much. Bilal didn't call after that one time, and Hadi too didn't bother himself. The rest four would have been busy planning their life ahead, taking necessary actions to put it into effect, the little concern that they felt, it was easy to put it at bay. Sasha was at her own home, mad at Hadi and finding it better to bear with her family than with him.
He was out drinking at one of the secret pubs of the city associated with only and only the rich, hoping to work off a little guilt and some of the intense, still prevailing feelings for the girl who shouldn't have come into his life in the first place.
Because Hadi Maher was a cool, aloof dispassionate person with a devil-may-care kind of air around him. He wasn't chatty, friendly, kind, or particularly empathetic. He was sarcastic, brutally honest and definitely a genius. He wasn't especially funny or cheerful, and he definitely wasn't stupid.
Yet his recent actions from the past year practically screamed otherwise. He had gone against everything he was defined by. He seemed to have turned over a new leaf without his own consent or knowledge. He was going mad. He already had.
Why else did he enjoy Mirha Qadeer's company? Why else was he missing her?
A shrill sound pierced the silence in his mind despite the continuous buzz of the customers, the low whispering, glasses clinking. He was perched on the bar stool, head drooping. Why was alcohol the only aid, the only thing that shuts your mind, gives you escape and numbs your feelings? Why do you want to run away from your emotions, feelings that run deeper than your heart.
Hadi closed his eyes as if trying to absorb the noise that was disturbing the peace gradually settling in. But when it didn't stop, he reached into his pocket and took out the phone.
The name glazing on the screen brought back all the feelings as his eyebrows shot up, and he felt amazed. Though he was more inclined to disconnect the incoming call, he wanted to know what made her call him after all those months.
"Hadi?" She spoke over the static.
"I'm listening, Rohina." He said, his voice was rough, throat burned from all the alcohol he'd taken in.
"Would you bother checking in with Bilal?"
Hadi laughed softly as he took his hand to his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand was splayed atop the bar counter. "He is not the one who needs checking in, Jawwad."
"You are a fucking asshole, Hadi Maher. You are so fucking blind you can't even see through the person you've been with fourteen years, the person you call your-"
"Blah blah blah, Rohina, what do you want?" He spat.
There was a pause for a moment, as if she was looking for the right words. "You know I was in love with him. And maybe I am still, and this is why he reached out to me at the lowest point of his life, even though we hadn't been talking for three years, because he knew I still cared for him. Now, Hadi you are going to listen to me very carefully. It is precisely because I care for him that I'm telling you this."
"You are testing my patience. Come to the fucking point!"
"He was crying, you pathetic asshole! Bilal was crying!" Hadi straightened up in his seat. "And do you want to know why? Do you honestly give a shit? Listen to me Hadi, he fucking loves you! It was never me, always you, always! Fourteen years, and you were so full of yourself, that you never noticed. You.never.fucking.SAW!"
"This is bullshit." He whispered, ears ringing, heart racing.
"He said he felt disgusted with himself. For what he is, for what he feels." Her breath hitched.
It asked for every ounce of energy to hold the phone pressed against his ear, and equally more to bark into the phone, "This is bullshit, do you hear me THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!"
"He said he felt he was betraying his friendship with you by keeping all those feelings suppressed in his heart. Always said he was disgusting." Rohina was crying. Hadi couldn't breathe. "Never wanted to be himself. That's why he dated me. That's why he went after Mirha Qadeer, because he thought she was pretty. Because he thought going after girls would somehow affect his inclination, that somehow he would stop feeling that way for you. Hadi Maher, Bilal didn't want to tell you because he feared losing you, he thought this strong bond of friendship he has him tied to you, he'd lose it. Was it strong, Hadi? Or was it so damn feeble you practically threw your deceleration of love right at his face. You smacked him, without an ounce of consideration. You're this much full of yourself, Hadi. And you say he doesn't need checking in. Say that to me again, and I will fucking kill you."
Silence stretched between them. A heavy, dense silence. He wasn't properly breathing, he wasn't properly looking at anything. Everyone and everything was a blur. If anything was clear, it was Rohina's voice, if any face was visible, it was Bilal's.
"And I'm doing fine. I'm happy with my husband. Thinking about starting a family. Thanks for asking." She said, "I hope I would never have to talk to you again. Goodluck with your stupid life."
The call disconnected, though Hadi didn't take the phone away from his ear, he couldn't.
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