The Man Who Lived Upstairs

4

"Rayan, Please, don't send messages again"

"I feel uncomfortable"

I wanted to smash my phone at the wall but my messages said otherwise.

How dare he?

After two years of spending time together, climbing stones together and living a life we anticipated, he wanted to go after another woman because she offered better choices.

Greedy ass.

And now he was sending me messages because she had gone for her Thailand trip and he was feeling lonely.

How dare he?

But the minute I send those words, his number came vibrating inHIto my space.

Mom who had arrived back from Rahman sir's house was narrating the contents to dad, about what happened at the house post dad taking Rahman to his brother's house, so he wouldn't yell and break more glasses.

Pretty much knowing I wouldn't be able to text with the commotion in my house, I packed my bags and left home for my so called work.

Yes I did work.

Sitting simply during my holidays wasn't a choice.

One, it would remind me of how idle I was.

Two, my mother nagging.

And three, stupid shadows that run in the air and opening ketchup bottles and shaking curtains of closed windows.

"Gah, I need a break"

I rushed to the nearest karoake and ordered a cabin for myself.

Usually people went to the bar or park, to have a nice walk with nature.

But nature's instincts were messing with my head.

So I made wierder and better plans.

I played "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons, at its highest volume and hummed along, hoping nobody came in at this moment.

The karoake centre with its neon lights, vibrating boom box and never-ending song list didn't have shadows and bitter thoughts of a haunting presence in my house.

My phone vibrated.

It was a message from Rayan.

The f*****g asshole.

"Where are you now? Please take my call"

As if?

The jerk had the nerve to leave me hanging by a thread and finally conclude on someone else, only to come crawling back now. The s**t I went through for a while.

Who would be there for me while he was skinny dipping with his model like girlfriend?

"We are friends right?"

"Shouldn't we atleast be there for each other when at need?"

"Come on...say so!"

I stood up, the music booming into my cerebrum. Whatever emotions he had managed to provoked, stayed still, burning with agony.

"Come to the karoake room 408"

Fucking hell.

Today was going to the death of him.

I sat down, my fists closed and chest heaving when the door opened softly.

How fast was he?

My eyes rested on a figure I had admired to sleep, once.

Six feet, with darkened brown eyes and his slick hair in a ponytail, he wore a leather jacket and blue jeans. Like the UK version of Henry Cavil, he strolled inside, eyes seeking my presence.The minute they lay on me, he flew to my side on the couch, the steel door closing on its magnet .

"How are you?"

Hands on mine, my skin froze upon his touch.

How alienated I felt upon a single graze.

"I am very fine"

I took off my hands, making the contact and shifted slightly away from his comforting demeanour.

No matter what he said or did now, it would never mend the broken pieces he created once.

"I missed you"

No, he didn't.

Stalking his popular Thai chick wasn't a hardass job. After we split, my every single day leisure time was spend on her social media where they were swimming in a shark pool one day, consuming Thai lobsters the other day and indulging in kisses and hugs, posts. I would crush my anger in packets of Lays and Bingos, dipped with salty tears and swallow my depression away.

It went on for two months until my studies and job got me busy.

Or else I would have finished all my money on junk food before it was too late to realise he wasn't coming back.

Until now.

"Riya, I miss you and I know you miss me too"

"That's a lie"

"No it is not", he squished closer, reducing the distance by a furthur millimetre.

How dare he?

"You should stop"

I pushed him a tad bit away and held my breath.

"I should? I don't think so"

His fingers grazed my cheek, like they once did. Slowily twisted my head to his, my lips to his, my freckles to his viewpoint.

"How dare you?"

My eyes were starting to sting. I looked like a belittle goat who was attracted to the string past moments in my head.

I was wishing he would invite me over for dinner, give me a wink of craziness, take my lazy ass over to his workplace and bluff about how perfect his girlfriend is and crash at his place, with great s*x and even great movies.

I held my breath and shook my head.

"No"

I stood up and turned around, my limbs fierce and taut.

My recollection came running back in, creating the depressed face of the year award.

Before I could say a word more, he got up and crushed my body in a forced hug.

A hug I couldn't fight back to return.

"I know you miss me too. I know your secretly checking if I am okay. I am okay....but somewhere deep inside, your scent, your touch, your memories are haunting my good life, Riya. Everything I have pushed away is what I want. I promise to be yours in this lifetimes and always. I want to be yours."

My voice started to shake.

Was anything of this true?

His arms interlocked my body in a tight cage, that I felt suffocated to move.

Fingers sliding over my spine and neck, ears and nose, he kept himming words of love and comfort.

What if he was sad for real?

What if he was guilty?

What if?

"Rayan. I-

Just then, the door fluttered open.

I didn't need to push Rayan away. He pulled out like a disgusted man and turned to the contents at the door, shock spread across his face.

Before my brain could meddle with what was happening, Rayan went flying across the room to the couch, his back struck against the leather.

Apparantly, Mrs Thai chick was here, by herself in a tiny blue bikni and rage emanating off her glowing skin.

She looked fresh out of an advertisement ....just with the expressions of a Thanos full hand.

"You seem cut out for ...seducing women"

I stopped short.

A huge man with an enormous body of shoe size eight walked behind her, in full tuxedo and black loafers, a strict chiseled face and a sharp jawline that could cut through anything. His nose and eyes were lined perfectly in glowing skin and the dark shaded cheeks were taut with evident cheekbones.

I wanted a smile to see how pleasant such a man of irritation could look, but he offered none.

Why, he didn't even acknowledge my presence.

"You b***h"

She said it, not him. Rayan got up, with shaking limbs, embarrassment leaking off his face and an upset composure.

His eyes didn't even meet mine.

Mrs Thai chick, her name as her i********: id, waved her skirt around and arms like she was exhausted. Sighs escaped her lips as she gazed at me.

"He kissed you?"

I wanted to nod.

If he would get a slap that way, or they broke up, or maybe even drift apart so much he would end up stalking me and feeling ad for himself, then a mere lie wouldn't hurt.

But I couldn't.

Umma had her ways of bringing us up and her first principle of life was it. Honesty.

"No, a hug...forcefully"

My fingers went upfront, colliding, imitating the interlock.

She spat on the floor and smirked.

"We are over, b***h"

"Ayna! No! Ayna", struggling cries ran from Rayan's mouth as he barged to stop her.

Like the Wall of China, the arrogant hot headed man stood between them, his stubborn face locked in to scare him.

Rayan, like the coward he was and is, stepped back.

"Ayna, this is a rash decision"

She said no more.

Out of the door with long steps, she disappeared behind the opaue walls.

Mr Stubborn didn't move.

He kept the staring match with Rayan until he collapsed on the couch, hands on his head.

Groans and sniffles echoed the karoake room.

Mr Stubborn looked at me and grunted,

"Leave"

He was asking me to leave?

"You didn't look comfortable earlier"

WHAT?

"He is a slut"

I couldn't process the amount of words he said before the smirk and left.

Before I could leave, Rayan's desperate hands grabbed mine.

"Do-n't go-o-.."

But I wanted to.

His cries echoed in the air making me freeze.

And his body slowly pulled me close and hugged me.

I stood there, lost and confused.