Bound By Love, Torn By Loyalty

CHAPTER ELEVEN

     A whole week has gone by with no communication between anyone. And now I'm stuck having  music with Mustafa again, even if we haven't spoken to each other at all. I can already imagine Mustafa coming up beside me, saying hi after a week of no texts or calls, just leaving Chloe, and  acting as if we weren't part of some sort of beef just a week ago. He acts so nonchalant, it's almost ridiculous. Sometimes I truly wonder if he even has any feelings under that black leather jacket of his, but after last week, I can confirm there's some light under all the darkness. 

     I'm currently stress eating my Mcdonalds breakfast that I spent a fortune on despite the 21p in my bank account. It's also not a rational decision since I've been gaining weight recently due to all the stress I've been put under. I don't care if I'm being dramatic over friends, it's heartwrenching and there's nothing I can do about my feelings and my poor broken heart. 

     I stuff the last of my hashbrown in my mouth and rush out of the door once I saw the time indicating I would be late if I didn't start leaving. Of course, my professor couldn't care less if I was late or not, but it feels wrong to never be early after spending so much time in school with Amy who was paranoid of being late. She grew out of that phase after the first term was over, a term too long. To be fair, she is still paranoid, but she's toned it down over the years. 

     Once I get to campus, I see a few dozen students getting the gardens set up for a picnic happening later this evening. I want to go but I have no one to go with. I heard it all of last week from posters and people down the hall, I overheard someone saying they got an email about it, but when I went to check my emails that night there was nothing but promo from things I've subscribed to. It must have been a coincidence or something, a glitch in the system lets say perhaps. But instead of thinking about it too much I chose to fall asleep and forget about it the next day. I am now reminded of it all too much again, but I have a class to get to, so I'll concentrate on that. 

     As it so happens, Mustafa is already there, cradling his guitar, just like the first time I saw him in this very auditorium. He's most likely working on his song. I'm pretty sure he's been at it all week. Now I know Newat isn't any Juilliard, but there has been success here, and I could totally see Mustafa on the front stage one day. Just that small slice of vocals with the strum of his guitar from the first time I saw him was enough to make me believe that. 

     I clear my throat so he can acknowledge me. His eyes shoot up. I'm getting a bunch of deja vu from his reaction because it is the exact same as before. His face flushes and he giggles a little, before indicating for me to sit down next to him. 

     "Still working on the song I see." I say, to start small talk, as per usual. He giggles again and I see the dimples gradually forming on his face as he smiles up and looks up at me. 

     "I'm actually finished, I'm hoping to perform at the picnic today." 

     "Oh really." I say, trying to hide the tone that infers that I won't get to see it live. 

     "Are you going?" He asks, "Because if not then you should come." He says, the composed demeanour creeping back into him. I don't think he understands how big of a deal it is for me to show up there uninvited. 

     "I'll come." I quietly say with a small smile. It barely goes up let alone reaches my eyes. 

     "Good." He says, and then our professor walks in and we start our lesson. 

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     It's around 5pm now, about an hour after my class finished, and I'm getting ready for the picnic. I agreed to go, so now I'm stressing over what to wear. As a hijabi who mostly wears black, finding something that screams 'spring'. I find a light pink abaya deep inside my closet that was gifted to me and I never wore. I guess I'll (reluctantly) use this as an opportunity to wear it. I don't think I can leave the house with any black so I wear a black hijab, knowing I'll regret it later once I step outside and feel the spring heat. I hate the sun. 

     I'm glad I live in a dorm on campus, because it's not long until I get downstairs to the picnic and then Mustafa, a crowd already forming around him. I guess he's a lot more popular than I thought. I run over to him and he immediately meets my eyes. I see his mouth slightly gape as he stands up. He's wearing a white shirt and jeans. I wonder where his leather jacket is. 

     "Wow you look..." and then he pauses for a second before he says, "Good." 

     "Thanks." I say, slightly blushing under his intense gaze. 

     "You came just on time, I'm about to perform." And then leads me to a picnic blanket thrown on the fresh grass. I'm greeted by a bunch of people I haven't met before, the look in all the eyes that are faced towards me feeling intimidated. We quickly say hi to each other before Mustafa brings out a microphone. I see Chloe and Nessa the oppostie of me,right next to Mustafa. 

     "This song is for a very special girl to my heart, who I love to the moon and back." He announces. I already see a tear forming in Chloe's eyes, and Nessa's... And then I hear strums of guitars, and a melodic voice, swarming the air around me. It's beautiful. He's beautiful. I don't think I could've picked anyone better to fall in love with. My heart flutters when I hear. He gets to the chorus for the 3rd time and he locks eyes with me. He says the lyrics with all his heart content as if speaking to me. After all the drama going on I want to think that he likes me back, but it's impossible to think that when Chloe, his literal girlfriend, is just 2 feet away. When I look at her I see a glimmer in her eyes, almost lustful. Right next to her is Nessa with the same exact expression. I'm suddenly self aware of everything I've been doing and realise I have looked at him with such awe, just as they were. The confusing thing is, Mustafa has made eye contact with all of us. I'm confused. 

     As he finishes the song we all applaud, as deserved. But then Chloe and Nessa go towards him, all the happiness dissipated and exchanged with rage. 

     "Who was it about babe?" Chloe asks arrogantly. 

     "What do you mean?" He retorts. 

     "You looked at all 3 of us like you were in love. With all of us! " She screams. Me and Nessa look at each other, a silent agreement to let Chloe take the lead this time. 

     "It was about you of course." He says, matter of fact. And leans forward to kiss her. 

     A mutual understanding is presented between me and Nessa, our hearts are broken and there's nothing we can do about it.