Desi fictional story which contains lots of tarka, dhamaka and masti. A series to raise your standards more is here which has scenes that will make you scream and blush with some scenes that will make you cry your eyes out of sadness.
So, are you re...
"I declined" I said with a straight face. "WHAT?" both of them said at the same time as they stood in shock I said "yes I declined, the owner aka Mr. Shehryar Mirza was way too rude to me and I didn't particularly like it" "Are you crazy Irhaa? You are talking about Shehryar Mirza" mom said as if it was all my fault technically I was but still that's not how you treat your client or model.
I nodded and said "if you guys don't believe me meet the so called Shehryar Mirza" I said and went upstairs to release the anger I was holding all this time. I shut the door of my room hard before collapsing on my soft bed. I was aware the way I behaved with my parents wasn't too good but I can't help it was all because of that sour grumpy man. I got up and went to the bathroom to get rid of these fancy clothes and take a shower before I shift into my deep slumber.
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HOORAIN'S POV:
I went straight into my bedroom before opening my laptop to check if that boy really deleted the review or not but surprisingly he did. After what I did I thought he was going to give more bad reviews but to my surprise he actually deleted it strange. I shrugged it off before changing into comfy clothes and laying down on my bed.
All the memories of my traumatic past started playing on repeat in my mind. How my parents humiliated my worth and forced their horrible plans on me. I still remember how my parents used to burn my sketches, how they used to tell me that I am a worthless and pathetic fool who would never be able to do anything in her life, how they used to force me to meet their childhood friend's son saying we were meant to be and how he used to try to touch me inappropriately, thank god my parents now live in Germany.
It was never easy on me, never. But did anyone listen? ofcourse not! Why would someone spend their precious time on listening to the sound of someone's broken pieces of soul? Even the thought of it makes me want to puke. But I was only a human like every other person. They could have thought about cherishing my presence for once, they could have just acted to care and appreciate the things i did, but this 'could have' made me drown into the deepest wounds of my life which left their scars on me forever.
These memories would last forever in my mind andwith these I would never really be able to trust anyone except my best friends. I wasn't like this since forever but my past me the person I am in the present. It indeed hurts but after all this is the bitter reality of the cruel world. Thinking about all of the terrible memories I eventually slipped into my dreamland where I can escape the reality.
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