"Hello, Ma'am! Kaisi hain aap? Same order ya kuch naya?" Moeez greeted with a playful smile, addressing the woman seated comfortably in a cozy sofa chair. From his casual tone, it was obvious that this wasn't their first conversation. She looked elegant in her outfit – a simple yet classy combination of black pants and a plain white sleeveless shirt. Her artificial glasses added a charming touch to her look, and though the watch on her wrist wasn't expensive, it perfectly complemented her sophisticated vibe.
Moeez stood waiting for her response as she continued typing away on her laptop, engrossed in her work.
Moeez worked part-time at Gloria's Coffee, a popular café in town. Despite being an excellent student, life hadn't been easy for him. After securing admission to Obsidian University, Lahore's top institution, on a full scholarship, he had to leave his hometown. His father had lost his job just a month ago, so Moeez's parents were doing their best to support him. Still, living in another city with limited funds wasn't easy. The café job helped, thanks to the decent pay and the flexibility to balance work and studies.
The woman in front of him finally looked up, a bright smile spreading across her face. Something in her mood suggested she had good news.
"Hmmm, apki piyari smile bata rahi hai ke kuch acha hua hai?" Moeez teased, trying to sneak a peek at her laptop screen.
"Oye, bad manners!" she quickly scolded, catching him in the act, though her smile remained playful.
"Oops," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, pretending not to have seen anything.
"Lagta hai mujhe hi jaa kar order dena parega," she joked, playfully.
"Touba! Kab se apke order ka wait kar raha hoon," he replied with a playful, exaggeratedly sad face.
"Ooo… apki jaankari ke liye bata doon pichle 2 mahine se, I'm giving the same order," she quipped back, amused.
"Oh, sorry, my bad! Abhi le aata hoon apka order… Ma'am!" he replied, pretending to be upset.
Their light-hearted banter showed that she was a regular at the café. She visited almost every night around 9 PM and would stay for hours, absorbed in her work. She often mentioned how much she loved the café's calm and relaxing atmosphere. Over time, their daily interactions had made them familiar with each other.
She glanced at him with amusement, speaking again. "Acha, acha, sorry. Idhar aao, batati hoon."
Moeez took a few steps toward her, smiling. "Baray ho jao, kab tak bachon wali harkatein karoge?" she teased with a giggle.
"Main bara hi hoon, or ab aap mujhe bata rahi hain yaa nahi?," he grinned back.
"Bara hone ka pata nahi lekin badtameez zaroor ho rahe ho… Toh Meri… Khushi ki waja hai k I just signed a big contract for the company," she explained, tilting her laptop screen toward him. The latest message displayed on the screen showed a deal worth millions.
Moeez wasn't surprised. He had been expecting something big.
"Haaa … Ye to expected hai apse or yaha main pareshan ho raha tha k koi boyfriend wagera mil gaya hai apko," he sighed dramatically, grinning.
"Areyyy, mera aakhir yeh boyfriend wagera se kya kaam? Main kahi se lagti hun jise boyfriend ki zaroorat hogi," she laughed.
"Leh Kya matlab? Aap khud ko meri nazar sy dekhain, Aap inteha khubsurat hain, apko boyfriend milne main muskil ho hi nahi sakti," he complimented sincerely.
"Acha, acha, theek hai! Ziyada makhan mat lagao, aur jaake coffee le kar ao," she said with a smile, turning her laptop back to herself.
"Haha jese apka hukam," he chuckled, turning away.
"Ager tum ye flirting kisi or k saath karo gy to tumhy koi mil jaye gi," she teased, stopping him in his tracks.
"Haha, Leh mere pass to pehly hai," he laughed, walking away toward the counter.
Sanaya, in her 40s, lived alone. Despite her beauty, her relationships never seemed to last, and after several heartbreaks, she had stopped looking for someone, accepting the idea of being alone. Her age didn't show on her face; she looked incredibly young. Her fit physique suggested a regular workout routine, and her features had a certain cuteness that made her seem much younger than her years.
---
Moeez walked over to the counter and spotted a girl wearing a dark brown apron.
"Eman, ek regular please," he said with a grin.
The moment he spoke, Eman smiled and handed him the bill, showing that she had already taken care of it.
"Waahhh, inni jaldiii?!" Moeez exclaimed in mock surprise, looking at the bill and then back at Eman with a playful smile.
"My pleasure!" she replied, her face lighting up with a big smile.
Eman was also a student at Moeez's university, though she was in the business department. As the café owner's daughter, she often helped out. Her father was busy with other projects and had left most of the responsibilities to her, knowing how competent and responsible she was. Everyone knew she'd inherit the café one day. Eman was excellent at handling customers, making them feel comfortable and welcomed. There were even times when customers would come in just to see her and enjoy her friendly vibe.
Eman looked effortlessly chic. Today, she wore a light floral kurti over dark jeans, with the café apron tied neatly around her waist. Simple earrings completed her look, perfectly matching her down-to-earth personality.
"By the way, subha lecture kab hai? Want me to pick you up?" Moeez asked, checking his phone as he remembered their schedule.
"Nahi, nahi, main aa jaungi. Aur mera lecture bhi kal 12 baje hai," she replied, waving her hand dismissively.
After a few minutes of waiting, the coffee was ready and brought to the counter by another worker. Moeez grabbed the cup and walked back to Sanaya, who was still busy on her laptop.
"Here you go, Ma'am — a well-brewed coffee," he said with a smile.
"Thank you," she replied without looking up, her focus still on her screen.
It was now 10 PM, and Moeez's shift was coming to an end, with only an hour left. After another half hour, Sanaya called for the bill. Moeez, who was standing next to the counter chatting with Kinza, heard her and went to the table, grabbing a POS machine in case of an online or card payment. He stood beside her chair again.
"Card payment hamesha ki tarha?" he asked with a polite smile.
"Card…" she replied, distracted as she rummaged through her purse. Finally, she took out her card and waved it slightly with a smile still on her face.
She handed the card to him and waited as he processed the payment. The screen displayed Payment Done, Thank You.
They exchanged goodbyes, and Sanaya grabbed her bag in one hand and her laptop in the other. As she walked toward the door with her usual elegance, Moeez found himself glancing at her, his eyes tracing the graceful curve of her back.
Moeez's shift ended at 11 PM, but he stayed at the café until the clock struck midnight. The café was empty except for Moeez and Eman, who was busy closing up. Normally, her father would come to help her close, but tonight he was busy. She seemed worried about finding a ride home at this late hour. Moeez offered to drop her off, insisting it was no trouble at all.
Seeing no other choice, Eman agreed. Moeez, who had his bike with him, dropped Eman home first, even though it was in the opposite direction from his own place, making it a longer ride.
It was 2 AM by the time Moeez entered his flat. He saw his roommate, Wajahat, sleeping peacefully. Exhausted, Moeez didn't even bother to change; he went straight to bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
---
### 2 Hours Earlier
In a small room bathed only in moonlight, Wajahat lay sprawled across his bed. His clothes—pants, T-shirt, and everything in between—were scattered haphazardly around the room. Cleaning wasn't really Wajahat's thing; in fact, tidying up only happened once a week when Moeez, his roommate, arranged for a cleaner to come by.
At 22 years old, Wajahat was Moeez's classmate and best friend. Coming from a wealthy background—his father owned a bank—he had never had to worry about money.
Ding…
Wajahat was lazily scrolling through his phone when it buzzed with a notification.
It was the money he'd requested from his dad, now safely deposited into his bank account.
He was chatting on WhatsApp with Mahnoor—Moeez's girlfriend and his own close friend. They'd met at university through their mutual friend group and quickly bonded. Over time, their friendship grew closer. Mahnoor, who was staying in the university hostel far from her hometown, was dating Moeez but preferred to keep their relationship private, which Moeez seemed to accept.
Another message from Mahnoor appeared on his screen:
"Han, so I was saying I can't make it at 8 AM. Let's push it to 9…"
Wajahat quickly typed back, "Tell Zunaira to wake you up," and then added, "I'll be right outside your hostel at 8 sharp. If you're not there, you're going to see a side of me you won't like. Now I'm going to sleep. Bye!"
Feeling a bit frustrated, he turned off his phone, put on some underwear, and collapsed into bed.
---
Trrrrnnn…
The mobile rang beside Moeez's pillow, jolting him awake. He checked his phone to see that it was Hafsah calling. Just as he was about to answer, the call cut off. It was 10 in the morning, and he realized he was late for his class and had some work to catch up on. He grabbed his phone and quickly called Wajahat, rifling through the cupboard for clothes.
### POV Change
"Waji, tum toh sirf kiss karni thi," Mahnoor teased, her tone playful.
Wajahat grinned, stepping forward and wrapping his arm around her waist, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. The sudden movement surprised her, causing her to sit back on the table.
Initially, Moeez and Mahnoor had a secret relationship, known only to them. Wajahat, the playboy of their circle, liked to flirt with everyone. Moeez, on the other hand, was known for being caring, loving, and someone Mahnoor had fallen for deeply.
After a moment, Wajahat pulled back, searching her eyes for a reaction. Mahnoor, understanding the unspoken question, shook her head.
"Waji, bohot risky hai, please nahi... ahhh," she breathed out, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his fingers sliding inside her jeans.
Mahnoor was open-minded and fashionable, sharing the same age as Moeez. They were in a professor's cabin, a room she had unlocked with a spare key.
"Well, tumhari body kuch aur keh rahi hai," he whispered, his voice low and teasing.
Without hesitation, she pushed him back, quickly removing her pants and bracing herself against the table. A smirk crossed Wajahat's face at her boldness. He wasted no time, positioning himself at her entrance.
"Say it… you know what I want to hear," he whispered, one hand teasing her while the other rubbed against her.
"Ahhh, f me, Waji!"*** she gasped, her words spurring him into action.
He thrust into her, grabbing her hips and increasing his pace. She tried to stifle her moans but they escaped.
"Ahhh... ahhh... yesss..."
The sounds grew louder until his phone rang on the table. The caller ID showed "Moeez." Mahnoor's eyes widened in worry as she glanced back at Wajahat.
Wajahat answered the call but didn't pause his movements.
"Waji, bhen k lund, tu uni chala gaya aur bataya bhi nahi," Moeez complained casually, his tone half-serious.
Mahnoor covered her mouth with both hands, trying to suppress her sounds, while Wajahat continued.
"Haan yaar, light nahi thi... aur tujhe pata hai kyun aata hoon jaldi," he replied, pinching her left nipple, making her bite her lip harder.
"Han han, baad mein teri gaand leta hoon, abhi bata tu kahan hai?" Moeez asked hurriedly.
"Ground mein hoon, kyun?" Wajahat replied, his voice steady.
"Acha meri attendance lagwa dio... main waise bhi late hoon aur HOD paas bhi jaana hai, toh aur late ho jayega," Moeez requested.
"Oookkk, boss," Wajahat responded, thrusting a bit harder, making Mahnoor let out a muffled moan.
He ended the call and set the phone back on the table. As soon as the call ended, Mahnoor pushed him away.
"Waji, bas, hat peechhe," she demanded, her voice tinged with frustration.
"Haha, nope..." he teased back.
"Maine kaha, bahar nikaal isse," she snapped.
"Mahnoor, kya hua?" he asked, confused.
She pushed him away again.
"Waji, maine tumhe baar baar bataya hai, jo hamare beech hai woh Moeez tak nahi jana chahiye. Lekin phir bhi!" she said, her voice filled with frustration.
"Acha, yaar, kya ho gaya, chota sa mazak hi toh tha," he tried to lighten the mood.
"Mazaak? Main serious hoon uske baare mein. I love him, lekin tum...," she trailed off, clearly upset.
With that, she stormed out of the cabin.
Wajahat stood there, contemplating the situation, anger bubbling up inside him at her reaction.
---
Knock, knock.
"Sir, may I come in?" Moeez asked, gently nudging the door open and peeking inside.
"Yes, yes, come in," replied the older man, dressed in a sharp dark grey three-piece suit with a plain white shirt.
As Moeez entered, he immediately noticed Shiza sitting in the guest chair. Her hair was slightly messy, and her lipstick was a bit smudged—evidence of a recent, perhaps hurried, encounter.
Shiza, a well-known seventh-semester student, was famous not only for her athletic prowess but also for her striking appearance and often revealing outfits, which drew attention from both students and some faculty members.
"Ummm, Shiza, aap jao. Main aapko baad mein bulaata hoon," the HOD said, leaning forward with a smirk.
Shiza quickly stood up, brushed past Moeez with a fleeting glance, and exited the office.
"G, Moeez beta, kya keh rahe the aap?" the HOD asked, turning his attention to Moeez.
"Sir, woh fees ke baare mein—" Moeez began, but the HOD interrupted, gesturing to the armchair in front of the desk.
Moeez took the cue, walked over, and sat down.
"Beta, dekho, tum already 90% scholarship pe padh rahe ho. Tumhari fees kitni hai? Bas 40k. Aur ab isse zyada kam kya karein? Aap jitni marzi appeal kar lo, university sunne wali nahin," the HOD explained, leaning back in his chair.
"Lekin, sir, aapko meri situation ka pata to hai," Moeez pleaded softly.
"Beta, mujhe pata hai," the HOD said, his tone firm but sympathetic. "Lekin khud hi dekho... baaki, aap apply kar ke dekh lo. Agar kuch faida hota hai toh theek, nahin toh mujhe nahi lagta ke iska kuch ho sakta."
Moeez sat quietly, absorbing the reality of the situation. It was clear that his options were limited. His only remaining recourse seemed to be taking out a loan to cover the remaining fees.
---
2 Hours Earlier
Walking down the corridor, Moeez was heading toward his class, lost in thought. He noticed his classmates wandering around, guessing that the professor hadn't arrived yet. Spotting a petite girl in a white kurti and pajama, he confirmed his suspicion.
"Khadija… Sir abhi nahi aaye?" he asked.
Khadija, an 18-year-old with a reserved nature, born in Pakistan but with Korean roots, shook her head. She was often quiet, rarely speaking to anyone except her friend Hafsah, the class GR.
Suddenly, a girl in a sleek black suit blocked his way.
"Moeezzzz… banda call bhi nahi uthata!" she complained.
"Hafsah, sorry yaar, main so raha tha. Jaldi mein tha, socha mil kar pooch loon. Kya kehna tha?" he replied, trying to explain.
"Tumhe nahi pata?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Hadia ne tumhara naam project se nikalwa diya hai."
Moeez looked shocked, thinking it was a joke. "Kya matlab? Yeh kaise ho sakta hai?"
"Main ne poocha tha. Jo project tum kar rahe thay, uspe Hadia aur uske boyfriend ka naam likha hai," Hafsah explained, worried.
"Tumhare paas list hai? Acha, yeh chhoro. Sir aa rahe hain ya nahi?" Moeez inquired, hiding his frustration.
"Pata nahi, Sir ne kaha hai class mein baitho," Hafsah answered, a little annoyed.
"Pata hona chahiye," Moeez muttered harshly, not in the best mood after his earlier chat with the HOD about his semester fees.
Realizing why Hadia hadn't been picking up his calls or showing up at the university, Moeez felt even more frustrated. Just then, a student ran towards the classroom, shouting, "Sir aa gaye!"
Ignoring the worried looks from Hafsah and Khadija, Moeez walked into the class and took a seat. The professor entered, glancing over the attendance sheet. "Toh, 9 log absent hain," he said lightly, looking at the sheet.
"Ummm, Moeez!" he called out.
"Ji, Sir," Moeez replied instantly.
"Oh, tum present ho. Yaha absent lagi hai… Chutti karo sab ki!" the professor announced, marking the attendance before leaving the class.
All through the class, Moeez scanned the room, searching for Hadia. She wasn't there, nor were Mahnoor and Wajahat. So many things swirled in his mind. When the professor left, Moeez immediately got up and began looking for Mahnoor, constantly calling Hadia, who still wasn't picking up. He had heard from Hafsah that Hadia was on campus today, but now, no one was answering their phones, which was only adding to his frustration.
Heading to the second floor, Moeez spotted Khadija coming down the stairs. He quickly cut the call and asked, "Khadija… Tumhe Mahnoor ya Wajahat ko dekha hai?"
Startled by his sudden question, she hesitated, but then answered, "Uh, haan, maine un dono ko 3002 mein jaate dekha hai."
"Oh! Thanks," he said, rushing up the stairs.
The quiet department felt strangely eerie, but Moeez was determined to find his friends. Walking quickly through the corridor, he peered into each classroom, but there was no sign of them anywhere.
---
### POV Change
In Classroom 3002, Wajahat stood close to Mahnoor, pinning her against the wall. Her expression was serious and intimidating, while Wajahat wore a sheepish look, trying to defuse the situation.
"Kiya hai? Karne se pehle sochna chahiye tha na!" she snapped, her gaze intense as she stared into his eyes.
"Acha na, sorry, galti ho gayi," he muttered, though his thoughts were far from contrite.
'Bas aik baar mauka milay, cheekhain na nikalwain to phir kahiyega...' The thought flashed through his mind, but he kept up the apologies, trying to salvage the situation.
"Theek hai, maaf kiya," she huffed, pushing him back with her hands on his chest.
"Acha, waise aik kiss—" he began, but was interrupted by the sudden creak of the door opening.
Moeez stepped into the classroom, glancing around. They were standing right next to the door, almost hidden from the rest of the class.
"Tum dono yahan!?" he exclaimed, surprise evident in his voice.
To be continued…