The silence in Zaid’s room was broken only by the frantic, futile clicking of his mouse. He was trying to edit a simple vlog about his day, but the footage was a mess, the audio was out of sync, and the final product looked amateurish. The 20,000-follower goal loomed like a distant mountain, and he was stuck at the base with no climbing gear. The 400-dinar reward for Sami’s tuition felt further away with each passing, unproductive day.
He slammed his laptop shut. There was only one person who could do this. The one person he dreaded asking.
He found Khamis not in his room, but in a secluded corner of the library, surrounded not by textbooks, but by thick volumes on business management and marketing. He looked up as Zaid approached, his expression neutral, guarded.
“Khamis,” Zaid began,
