'34+35' - Ariana Grande
Unedited
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Groaning in frustration, Syra crumpled up her failed sketch and tossed it in the bin. Her mind was a jumble, she couldn't seem to get the colours right. That infuriating boy, Zayn, and his stupid eyes had occupied her mind over the weekend. The whole week he'd made himself scarce, and she didn't know why she was so worked up about it. She barely knew the guy.
Whenever she felt stressed, suffocated or anything of the sort, she resorted to art, her passion. Perhaps it was the zen of drawing - you become one with your work - lost in the rhythm of the tasks at hand. She often drew the source of her frustration, or something that would bring about sukoon in her, a sense of azaadi. (Peace), (Freedom).
This time she drew his side profile, well that's what she saw as she sneaked looks at him while he blatantly ignored her. His sharp jaw coated in dark stubble, the arch of his eyebrow, the light glinting off his brow bones, temples and cheekbones, the shadowing in the crease of his eyes; the hollows of his cheeks. It has taken her forever to get the slope of his nose correct, slanting at approximately forty-five degree angle, with a sharp yet rounded tip; the tip of his nose parallel to the base and the philtrum. Each individual placement of the hairs on his face were well-thought and precise. Big man keeps his shape-ups consistent, she thought to herself.
But what was the most difficult was his eyes. Whenever she sketched people, she always drew their eyes in the colour that they owned. One might think drawing grey eyes were easy, for what colour did they possess? If she stuck to her sketching pencil to draw his eyes, they'd be dull, lifeless; not doing justice to what she saw in her minds eye. No, she'd have to use white and grey colouring pencils, to bring about that blazing silver gaze that had ensnared her. She focused the life into those eyes, so that the viewers gaze automatically found source of the sketch, the one thing holding it together, the purpose.
She was held up from starting her new piece as her phone rung. She checked the screen. Layla. She answered the FaceTime.
"Salaaaaammmm babes," shouted Layla the moment the call connected. It was beyond Syra how such a shy and timid person turned into a loud and chatty one.
"Walaikumasalam, Layla. What you saying?"
"Oh no we are so not doing this. I need the deets right now, I've been deprived wayyyy too long. Jannah and Isla are here with me too. So start talking. Chop chop, haven't got all day,"replied Layla, hearing a faint 'yeah' and 'yas bitch' from Isla and Jannah in the background.
"You guys were legit right there. I collided into him like an absolute twat and fell on top of him. I still feel so humiliated,"
"If I'm not mistaken, big man was tryna hide a boner,"interjected Jannah.
Syra felt her face heat up. Jannah had no filter whatsoever; she could be pretty vulgar at times, okay most of the time.
"How tf would you know that? Don't tell me you were staring down there - and ugh! Jannah! Whyyy?!" she wailed, cursing her out for putting such an idea in her mind.
"If you want to know if it was big, which I know you do, man was packing. Like that was one groinzilla I accidentally witnessed,"
"Accidentally my arse. Jannah why were you even looking there-"
"You're just jelly that you didn't get a glance. Dw I ain't stealing yo man, I'm sure you'll get to see-" after hearing the gasps of the others she added, "-after marriage of course. But that's besides the point. The point is that you were responsible for the said boner, for that dreamy look on his face. Man just met you but was whipped, styll," she rambled.
"She's right ya know, Sia. That was some undeniable chemistry I saw. You guys even did the short staring competitions, the blushing and looking away. Bitch please tell when a guy has ever made you blush or feel shy. We felt like we saw a whole new side to you gurl." Layla ejected.
She didn't know herself. He had such an effect on her in such a short time. She put it down to him being insanely attractive, or so she told her friends. This earned her several objections.
"Girl are you blind?" that was Isla.
"Bitch don't tell me you gon do the whole I don't have time for no mf because them little telepathic convos you were having with yo man was sum else," burst out Jannah
"Syra we are gonna be here every step of the way to remind you that you just can't ignore him - you won't be able to! Idk why you even wanna, bro he's so fit," concluded Layla.
Syra's mind was a mess. She couldn't make sense of anything and she was no where near to admitting or coming to terms with anything.
"Bruvvv, idk I'm confused like - just frustrated,"
"So why don't you - HOLD UP! DID YOU DRAW HIM THEN. WAIT BITCH IDEK HIS NAME!" Layla shouted
Syra groaned, massaging her temples.
"Zayn. Zayn Malik Ahmed. 15th of Nov 04. Prolly about 6"3 or 6"4, he's like really tall, and he's got these silver-grey eyes. Like idk how to describe em I'm struggling to sketch them. He's got a nice beard tho, and he keeps his hair messily combed. It like reaches to the nape of his neck. He's also like really muscular," she confessed.
"Dangggggg he sounds leng af." Jannah commented.
"You have a thing for facial hair," laughed Layla. Syra thought they looked liked annoying pre teens without facial hair, well most of the time. She thought facial hair gave them a more mature and masculine look, a more haggard look.
"How'd you know he's muscular?" questioned Isla.
"You know when I ran into him. I fell on top. He ain't no cuddly person. And then he tried getting up and lost his balance so he fell back into a sitting position and I, well I kinda m, uhmm-" she laughed nervously.
"You straddled him! OH MY GOD! We couldn't see as you all were on the other side of the table but-" put in Jannah before Layla told her to shut up.
"I had no idea how I ended up there and - wait did I tell you that he smelt really good? Yh he did. And well then I think he got a little annoyed so I was gonna move but he like-" she broke off, suddenly feeling shy to carry on, but her friends encouraged her, "He like yanked me close and stood up - I had to cling to his shoulders so I didn't drop to the ground as I was in mid air - until he set me down. And that's not all of it. He stared while I fixed myself - god he was prolly laughing. And then he turned and untucked his shirt - idk why, wasn't he supposed to do the opposite-"
"She's rather dense," interjected Isla.
"Gurl I'm telling ya it was to hide his thang-" begun Jannah before Syra cut her off, hurriedly resuming her recount.
"Enough about - about that. You're prolly imagining it, anyways. Yeah and then he sat at the table so I offered to get him a bite from the canteen-"
"Did he give you money?" inquired Isla.
"Yes ofc. Jheez, I've been interrupted a billion times already. Anyways I came back and like told him I was assigned to work with him blah blah blah, he's like kl so we like begin to introduce ourselves before he like idk, just suddenly got brisk as if he didn't care. Like idk he switched up rq. Then his cousins came so I spent the rest of the time giving one relationship advice, while Zayn and the other tried to talk to each other without me hearing. Bruh they thought I was dumb."
She took a deep breath; his coldness hurt her more than she was ready to admit too.
"That's that."she concluded.
She suddenly remembered something.
"Oh yeah! Towards the end his cousin - Sheheryar I think - said something , ummm, yes, about him doing stuff like after college. Like not hanging with friends or going home to chill but sum else. And I think he thought, idk, maybe that I got wary of him after that. In fact I tried to show that I didn't care but looks like he didn't see it as that."
Her friends were silent for a moment, digesting her story.
"Well I'm sure there are two sides to a story," begun Isla, ever the reasonable.
"Why don't you follow him, hmm? After school, just stalk him?" offered Jannah.
The girls didn't say anything for a moment.
"But if he did that to me we'd deem him a creep." reasoned Syra.
"I mean, he's already found us on Tiktok. He followed our joint account and liked the video where you ran into him - shit he prolly heard us drooling over him. Shit. Oh wait! He also followed your main account - he prolly clicked on you @ for your private and then went to your main. I gotta admit that it was smart of him to not request for your private. Yo man ain't dumb, Syra. He's a keeper." reported Jannah.
Syra wanted to slap Jannah for putting the idea in her head. She tried to ignore it but she knew she was going to do it. Even if she screwed up and got caught. Even with the guilt already stirring inside her. She just thought of how she'd come up with an excuse when her parents asked her why she wasn't coming straight home after college. They didn't let her out after sunset, they were the typical strict Asian parents.
Isla gave her input, "What if you end up finding something that's you know, really personal to him or something that you were better kept in the dark about. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss-" her voice cut off, the call abruptly ending.
Syra sighed, she didn't know whether in annoyance or relief. Layla's phone most likely ran out of battery. Putting her phone on charge, she selected a fresh piece of card and begun her sketch, this time satisfied with the results.
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"Syra beta! Neechay au! Kanaa lagya!" Syra's mother called her from downstairs. (Syra dear! Came down! Foods ready!)
Syra hopped out of bed, all traces of fatigue wiped away, excited to eat. She skipped down the hallway, onky to abruptly stop when she her Ilyas, her eighteen year old brother, standing at the top of the staircase. She sighed, knowing what was gonna happen.
Her and her siblings had this thing where they'd try push each other down the stairs to see who could hold onto the railings the longest. Now the game was unfair - she could easily push her little siblings while her older siblings had an advantage over her. He grinned at her, noticing her hesitation.
"Hello you fat cow. I didn't even see you all day."
"That's because you weren't at college for some reason. I wonder why."
"I don't see the point of going when there's no studying going on."
"Oh puh-lease - as if you were present most of the time when there are studies going on.
"That's not your concern,"
"But it will be if you ever snitch off me - I'll tell Abba about this straight away,"
Ilyas pursed his lips, not liking she had so much dirt in him. It was his fault- he was so crap at being secretive. It was so easy to find out what her siblings were hiding.
"Go downstairs, Ilyas,"
"Ladies first,"
"I don't have time for this,"
"So go innit,"
"You're gonna push me,"
"Mums I won't,"
Syra raised her eyebrows.
"Kasmeh, alright?"
Syra eyed him distrustfully, pausing, then running as fast as she possibly could down the stairs, Ilyas snickering behind her.
"Took you long enough. Come sit," said Saleh, who was twenty.
Everyone took their respective seats but one was empty - her older sister Malikah's. She moved out when she got married - Syra never valued their relationship until after her marriage, realising the responsibilities of the eldest daughter weren't easy, now that they were passed onto her. It especially irked her that her two older brothers didn't have the same responsibilities as her. They got more freedom and less responsibilities - it was the opposite for her. Her parents were fair when it came to housework, however; her and her siblings had a rota for the dishes, vacuuming, sweeping, mopping, laundry and dusting etc.
But she had to be patient. For the sake of her sisters: eleven year old Husna and six year old Anayah. The way Malikah had for the three of them. If she troubled or pissed her parents off too much, they'd put more restrictions on her, and then treat her sisters the same.
No, she gradually brought them around and convinced; and most importantly, earns their trust. She didn't blame her parents completely - they had been raised in an even more cultural and strict environment so unlearning things did not come easily. They already were so protective of their children as they were in a Western society, but they were improving.
Doesn't mean Syra didn't get impatient. She wanted to slap her older brothers out of spite sometimes but she tried her best to hold back; they also helped their sister persuade their parents. She often ended up fighting with the twins: Umar and Umair. They were at the annoying age of thirteen, like two little devils going around and causing mischief.
"What's the matter, Syra? You've just been playing with your biryani." asked Abba, snapping her out her daze.
"Kuch nahi. Bas sar me dard hora tha pehle," (It's nothing. Just had a headache earlier).
"Ek paracetamol kah lena."replied Amma. (Take one paracetamol).
"My friend Asfandyar is coming over this Friday, along with his family. Make sure you are free that day. Aur Jummai ke kapray pehnaa sab." announced their father, addressing his kids. (And wear your Friday clothes everyone).
Turns out she'll only be stalking Zayn till Thursday. She swallowed a large morsels of rice, trying to ignore the rising guilt in her chest.
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So I think I'm gonna do Syra's POV every five chapters. I still don't know how long this book will be however. The best I can say rn is more than thirty chapters.
2450 words.