The Night That Never Happened

The city never slept. Golden lights shimmered across towering buildings, expensive cars glided through the streets, and laughter echoed from every corner of the luxurious Grand Meridian Hotel. For Ayla Rahman... It was all new. She stood outside the hotel's revolving glass doors, adjusting the loose sleeve of her oversized cream hoodie. A pair of faded blue jeans and white sneakers completed her simple look. Her long dark hair danced in the evening breeze. She looked effortlessly beautiful. Not because she wore expensive clothes. But because she wore innocence. "You've been staring at the building for five whole minutes." Noor laughed as she linked her arm through Ayla's. "If you don't move now, we'll miss dinner." Ayla smiled shyly. "I'm just... taking it all in." "This city is huge." "It'll get smaller." "How?" "You'll get used to it." The four friends entered together. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. A pianist played softly in one corner. Everything looked like something straight out of a movie. "You seriously grew up in a village?" Sana asked. Ayla nodded. "Yes." "And now you're studying here?" "Mhm." "You don't even look nervous." "I am." "You hide it well." "I've had lots of practice." Her answer made everyone laugh. Dinner passed with endless teasing. Stories. Laughter. Selfies. Noor almost dropped her drink twice. Sana argued about desserts. Abeer insisted everyone try the chocolate lava cake. For the first time since leaving home... Ayla forgot she was in a strange city. She simply enjoyed the evening. Near midnight, the girls decided to leave. "I'll just wash my hands," Ayla said. "We'll wait outside." She nodded and disappeared into the quiet corridor. The hallway was strangely silent. Too silent. A muffled sound reached her ears. Like someone struggling to breathe. She stopped. Another sound. A painful groan. Her eyes followed it. Room 709. The door wasn't completely closed. She frowned. "Hello?" No answer. She knocked gently. "Excuse me?" Still nothing. Curiosity mixed with concern. She pushed the door open just enough to look inside. The room was dimly lit. A tall man leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. His white shirt clung to him with sweat. One hand gripped the edge of a table so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His face was pale. His breathing uneven. He looked as though he was fighting an invisible battle. Ayla stepped inside without thinking. "Sir?" He didn't answer. Instead... He staggered. She rushed forward instinctively. "Please... sit down." He looked at her. His dark eyes were filled with pain. And something else. Something he seemed desperate to suppress. "I'll call an ambulance." "No." His voice came out rough. "You need help." "I said..." "No." She hesitated. "I know basic first aid." "Please let me help." His breathing became harsher. His fists trembled. "Leave." "You don't look okay." "I know." "Then let me—" "Leave." His voice was louder this time. But it wasn't anger. It was desperation. Ayla took another careful step. "You're burning with fever." She gently reached out and placed the back of her hand against his forehead. The heat startled her. "Oh my God..." He closed his eyes tightly. As if even that innocent touch hurt him. "I'll call a doctor." "No doctors." "Then what happened?" Silence. His jaw clenched. Finally... "They drugged me." Her heart skipped. "What?" His breathing became uneven again. "It wasn't supposed to be this dose." Ayla stared at him, shocked. He slowly looked away. "I need an antidote." "What antidote?" He gave a bitter laugh. "You don't want to know." The room fell silent. Ayla wasn't naïve. She understood. The colour drained from her face. For a brief moment, fear flickered in her eyes. The stranger noticed. He immediately stepped backwards. As far away from her as he could. "You should leave." "You'll be safe if you leave." She didn't move. Instead... She quietly took out her phone. "I'm calling a doctor." "No!" He tried to stop her. But his legs gave way. He collapsed onto one knee. Ayla gasped. Without thinking, she knelt beside him. "Please..." "Just hold on." "I'll help you." He looked at her with disbelief. "Why?" "Because you're hurt." "You don't even know me." She smiled gently. "I don't need to know your name to know you're in pain." For a second... The room became completely silent. No one had spoken to him like that in years. His breathing became heavier again. His hands trembled violently. His gaze accidentally fell on her. She was close. Too close. He shut his eyes immediately. "No..." "No..." He whispered to himself. "I won't." Ayla frowned. "What?" He forced himself to stand. Every muscle in his body screamed. His eyes landed on the fruit knife lying on the coffee table. Without hesitation... He picked it up. Before Ayla could react— The blade sliced across his own forearm. Blood splashed onto the white floor. Ayla screamed. "What are you doing?" He staggered backwards, breathing hard. Pain flashed across his face. But relief followed. "I'd rather bleed..." "...than become the man who hurts someone innocent." The knife slipped from his fingers. His vision blurred. Ayla stared at him, frozen. Not because of the blood. But because she had just witnessed a man choose to hurt himself instead of risking harm to her. His body swayed. Then... Everything went black. He collapsed to the floor. Ayla rushed to him. "Please..." "Stay with me." Her trembling fingers reached for her phone as she dialled the emergency number. Outside... The rain began to fall. Neither of them knew... That this single night... Would quietly rewrite both of their destinies. ........... .......................... End of Chapter 1 .......................... Who is the mysterious man, and why was he drugged?