____________________________________
"Those who never fail are the ones who never tried anything new."
— Genius2.0oh!
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During Recess
The hallway clock blinked its 12:30pm
Tahir closed his notebook with the finality of a verdict—sharp, decisive, irreversible.
"It's time," he said.
Aysha Amad stared at him like he'd just announced his own execution.
"Tahir, please." She grabbed her bag tighter. "There's still time to back out. No shame. I won't tell anyone. We can pretend this never happened."
He didn't slow. Didn't even look at her.
"You coming," he asked calmly, "or not?"
Aysha let out a long, pained groan.
"This is so cringe. So stupid. Fine. Let's go. But when you die, I'm not testifying."
Tahir smirked—barely.
"Those who never fail are the ones who never try anything new.
And I'm curious by nature.
I try everything crazy."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"This time, I won't fail.
She's too precious."
Behind him, Aysha pinched the bridge of her nose.
He was absolutely hopeless.
⸻
THE HUNT FOR SADEEQAH
They turned into the hallway.
Noise hit them instantly—lockers slamming, laughter bouncing off walls, voices overlapping in restless currents. Students flowed between classes like a living river, chaotic and unaware of the disaster about to cut through it.
Aysha stopped short.
"Oh no," she whispered. "No, no, no. Jamal's up ahead. And he's walking straight toward Sadeeqah."
Her voice dropped into panic.
"We should turn back. Right now. This is a terrible idea."
Tahir didn't even glance at Jamal.
His focus had narrowed.
Locked.
There she was.
Sadeeqah.
Standing with three friends, half-laughing, half-plotting—sunlight slicing through the hallway windows and landing on her face like a deliberate spotlight. Her smile was sharp and playful, innocent at first glance, dangerous if studied longer.
For a single heartbeat, Tahir's mind went completely blank.
Then—
He stepped forward.
Straight toward her.
Aysha dragged a hand down her face in defeat.
"He's going to die."
⸻
THE FIRST CONFRONTATION
Tahir stopped directly in front of Sadeeqah.
No hesitation.
No second-guessing.
Her laughter faded as she looked up, eyes narrowing slightly, assessing him the way sharp people do.
He held her gaze, a small, precise smirk playing at his lips—measured, intentional.
"Hey," he said lightly. "I seem to have forgotten your name."
Sadeeqah blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Who is this boy?
"Excuse me?" she said coolly. "Do I know you?"
Behind him, Aysha silently prayed.
In front of him, Tahir smiled—
And the hallway seemed to hold its breath.
Tahir smiled—slow, deliberate—like he knew exactly how reckless this was and chose it anyway.
"I was trying to break the ice," he said smoothly.
Guess I won't have to say it twice.
I saw you from afar—you looked really nice…
So I came over here and decided to roll the dice…
I rushed in without thinking thrice…
Didn't care if I'd have to pay a price…
Something in me felt cut open—excised…
The moment I looked at you, surprised…
I've never felt this way about anyone, to be precise…
My intentions aren't a vice…
My words are clear—like blue skies…
So I'm suggesting a date with you, A romantic one, One that might entice…
Even if,"
he paused, eyes never leaving hers,
"it might not be wise."
Silence crashed down around them.
Her friends stared.
Someone nearby stopped walking.
Even the hallway noise seemed to dull.
Sadeeqah studied him—slowly now. Not shocked. Not flattered.
Curious.
And that?
That was far more dangerous.
From the sidelines, Aisha's stomach dropped.
He didn't just flirt, she thought.
He declared war.
"Wow," she said dryly. "And how long did it take you to rehearse all that?"
Tahir shrugged, unbothered.
"Probably since the moment I first saw you. Right there."
He pointed back toward the entrance like it was obvious.
She bit her lip—not flattered. Amused. Measuring.
"That's… sweet," she said at last. "But what if I told you I'm not available?"
"What do you mean?" His face didn't change.
"I have a boyfriend."
Tahir blinked once.
"Okay," he said calmly. "And why would you tell me that?"
She frowned. "Because you just asked me out on a date."
"Ohhh." He nodded slowly, like the pieces were finally clicking.
"No, no—that wasn't a date. That was an audition."
She stared. "An audition."
"Yeah," he continued casually.
"For the drama Under the Crescent Moon. I saw the flyer. Aren't you the Drama Club president?"
He tilted his head.
"Queen Bee, right?"
"No."
Her voice snapped sharp.
"Don't ever call me that."
A beat passed.
Then she exhaled and straightened.
"And yes. I am the president. And… you're Hmm…" she looked at him, up and down first then added "a bit talented, I guess."
Tahir raised a brow.
"We actually lost our male lead yesterday," she added. "He had an emergency Surgery. So If you want the role—it's yours."
His eyes gleamed.
"Oh really?"
He leaned in slightly.
"And the female lead would be…?"
She brushed her braid back, chin lifting.
"Me."
Tahir took a deliberate step back.
"Yeah, no," he said instantly. "I reject the role. I'll pass. Thanks for nothing."
Her jaw dropped.
"What?!"
She stepped closer. "Why? Because I'm the female lead?"
"Forget it," he said, already turning away. "See you around."
"Oh no you don't."
She blocked his path. "If you have a problem with me, say it."
"I don't have a problem with anyone," Tahir replied evenly.
"I just wanted a role where I could lie low you know, come to rehearsals during this upcoming lame competition. Maybe show up, just be in the background. No lines."
She stared at him—really stared.
Then realization hit.
"Oh my God."
Her eyes widened.
"I remember you. You're the one who rejected the Director's nomination on stage."
Disbelief curled into a crooked smile.
"Why do you hate participating in the elite tournament ?, Don't you want our school to win?"
"I couldn't care less who wins anything," he said calmly.
She threw her hands up.
"You remind me of someone," she muttered. "What's your name again?"
"Tahir."
"Well, Tahir," she said, shaking her head, amused despite herself.
"It's nice to meet you."
"I know," he replied smoothly.
"It's always nice to meet me."
She rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt.
And somehow—
against logic, against instinct—
she smiled.
Aysha stood ten steps away, frozen between two lockers, watching the entire thing unravel like a slow-motion car crash.
No—worse.
Like a public execution.
This is not happening.
This is actually not happening.
Her fingers dug into the strap of her bag as Tahir stepped back, rejected a lead role like it was expired food, and somehow—somehow—left Sadeeqah smiling.
Smiling.
Aysha's brain short-circuited.
He walked up to her.
Rapped/ recited a poem
Insulted her.
Rejected her club.
Rejected the Director's competition.
And she's smiling?
Excuse her—what?
Aysha's heart pounded.
Jamal is literally three paces away.
The most popular guy in both CAA and ARC schools.
The human headline.
If Jamal turned around right now, this would escalate from "bold" to "fatal."
She scanned the hallway again. No Jamal hasn't turned around, Not yet.
Her gaze snapped back to Tahir.
He stood there like chaos in human form—hands relaxed, posture loose, face calm. Like he hadn't just poked every hornet nest in the school at once.
Does he have a death wish?
Or is he stupid?
No.
Stupid people panicked.
Stupid people overexplained.
Stupid people begged.
Tahir did none of that.
Which made it worse.
Aysha swallowed.
He's not flirting, she realized with horror.
He's testing boundaries.
He's experimenting.
Her stomach dropped.
This isn't about Sadeeqah.
This is about control.
When he said he didn't care about winning…
When he rejected the Director…
When he talked about "laying low"…
It all clicked too late.
Aysha felt cold.
He's bored.
And this school is his toy.
Her eyes flicked to Sadeeqah again—still watching him, curious now. Interested. Dangerous.
No no no no no.
Do NOT be curious about him.
Aysha dragged a hand down her face.
I wanted him to fail, she thought miserably.
I wanted him humiliated.
Instead, he'd done the impossible.
He'd disrupted the ecosystem.
She exhaled slowly, forcing calm.
Okay. Think.
If he gets Sadeeqah's attention for a day or 2, I'd owe him notes.
Her lips twitched despite herself.
I'm going to regret this so badly.
Tahir turned slightly, as if sensing her stare.
Their eyes met.
He smirked.
Aysha mouthed, You are insane.
He mouthed back, I know.
Her stomach flipped.
Somewhere down the hallway, a bell rang.
And Aysha knew—deep in her bones—
This wasn't a crush.
This wasn't drama.
This was the beginning of a problem big enough to swallow all of them whole.
______________
THE DEAL
Tahir paused, giving Sadeeqah a moment to reconsider, as if weighing the offer. His fingers toyed with the pen in his hand, the motion slow and deliberate.
"Look," she said, her hands resting on her hips. "Help me audition all the guys who want the male lead today, and I'll give you a role that fits your… laziness."
Tahir raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Just sit there and watch?"
"Mostly," she coaxed, her lips curling into a smile. "But my assistant is absent, so you'll be filling in. Taking notes. Doing whatever I tell you."
He scrunched his face, half-mocking. "That's so… tedious."
"It's only today," she added, her tone turning sweet. "And in return, you can hang around the Drama Club as much as you want. Isn't that what you secretly wanted anyway?"
Tahir pretended to think it over, stroking his chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Hmmm… Fine. But I warn you, Queen Bee," he said with a teasing smirk, "you might fall in love with me. Spending an entire afternoon with me is risky business."
She laughed, loud and unapologetic. "Hah! Being confident is one thing. Being cocky is another. Don't mix them up."
"We'll see," he said, unfazed by her comment. "Should I get your number then?"
She hesitated for a moment, but then, with a slight roll of her eyes, she relented. "…Fine. Got a pen?"
Tahir pulled one from his pocket, a glint of triumph in his eyes. But before he could write it down, a new interruption arrived—a collision that would shatter the moment.
____________
THE JAMAL COLLISION
Suddenly, a hand shot out from behind, grabbing the pen with surprising speed. Tahir's grip tightened, and he felt the resistance—the challenge—before he even looked up.
Jamal.
The most dangerous kind of popular.
Tahir didn't flinch. He never did. Instead, he met Jamal's narrowed eyes with his usual calm.
"I heard you asking for my girlfriend's number," Jamal growled, stepping forward, his chest swelling with territorial anger. "Who do you think you are, bro?"
Sadeeqah was quick to react, her body moving between the two with a practiced ease. "He came to audition for the drama."
Jamal's gaze flicked over Tahir, sizing him up. His mouth twisted in disdain. "He looks kinda creepy, babe."
Tahir's expression didn't change. His eyes remained locked on Jamal's, unwavering, unbothered. "No offense," he said, his tone dangerously relaxed. "But I wasn't asking for a permission from you."
Jamal's nostrils flared, his anger almost palpable. "Who do you think you're talking to, eh kid?" he spat, his voice rising.
"Certainly not you," Tahir repeated, dismissing Jamal with a flick of his fingers. The words weren't hostile, just dismissive—like Jamal was an inconvenience, not a threat.
Sadeeqah, sensing the shift in power, pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. Without so much as a glance at Jamal, she scribbled her number down and handed it to Tahir.
"Call me at 2:15 p.m.," she said, her voice sweet but with an edge of command. "I'll tell you where the auditions will be. And don't be late."
Tahir nodded, his lips curling into that same lazy, confident smile. "Will do… Queen Bee."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, his steps steady and unhurried, as if the tension in the air wasn't a problem he needed to solve. The hallway seemed to hold its breath.
⸻
THE AFTERMATH
Behind him, Jamal exploded. "Babe, WHAT is going on?!" he demanded, his voice a mixture of anger and confusion. "Why are you giving him your number?!"
Sadeeqah simply waved him off, her tone light, almost teasing. "Relax, J-Man," she said, using the pet name she always gave him when she was trying to pacify him. "He's going to be my assistant today. And he's… kinda funny, don't you think?"
"No. I don't," Jamal snapped, his eyes burning holes into the back of Tahir's retreating figure. "And I'm going to talk to him right now. He's not getting away with disrespecting me."
Sadeeqah shrugged, unconcerned. "Go ahead. But you know, he's not the type of guy who's going to care what you say, as you can clearly see."
________
Aysha, standing further down the hall, watched the entire exchange unfold. Her hand pressed against the cool metal of the lockers as she processed what she'd just witnessed.
What the hell was that?
Jamal. Sadeeqah. Tahir.
She blinked, half expecting the scene to dissolve like some kind of dream. But it didn't. It was real.
The audacity of it all—it was almost like watching a fire start in slow motion. Why does he do this? she wondered. He just keeps pushing, keeps testing limits, keeps breaking every rule.
Aysha knew she should feel more concerned, maybe even scared. But instead, she felt an odd sense of admiration—reluctant, grudging respect.
Who the hell does he think he is?
And yet… Why do I feel like he's going to change everything here?
With one last glance at Sadeeqah and Jamal, who were still bickering, Aysha turned and started walking back to class. She had to figure out one thing.
Is this guy crazy… or is he just smarter than we think?
_________________
DESTINY INTERVENES
Before Jamal could take a single step after Tahir—
MiMie appeared.
She moved with purpose, cutting through the hallway like a blade sliding between ribs. Her eyes locked onto Tahir instantly.
"There you are," she said sharply. "I've been looking everywhere."
Tahir stopped walking.
Aysha felt it—the shift. The air tightened.
MiMie didn't notice me. Or at least didn't care.
"The A.R.C team representatives just arrived," she continued briskly. "Saleem wants you, me, and a guy named Jamal to meet them for the opening dialogue."
Tahir's breath stalled.
Just for half a second.
Then MiMie added—casual, careless, lethal:
"And guess who the reps are? Malik— the childhood friend. Whose first girlfriend you supposedly stole—and my ex-bestie, Safeeyah."
Something dark passed over Tahir's face.
Gone was the lazy smirk. Gone was the amused indifference.
Inside his mind, everything fractured.
Of all times… Malik shows up now?
I have been trying to put all that happened 3 years ago, behind me.
He still thinks I betrayed him.
He still worships that fake, vile brother of his—the one who actually stole his girlfriend, or should I say the one who sent the girl after us, to break our friendship.
Hmm…
I protected him.
I stayed silent.
I let him hate me.
And now—
He'll see me here.
A bitter realization settled in his chest.
This year, this school… C.A.A is going to be a battle ground for many rivalries.
Just when I thought that I got my mediocre dream…
Tahir exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Do I have to be there?" he asked, voice flat.
"Yes," MiMie snapped instantly. "Let's go."
Her lips curled—not into a smile, but something colder.
"I want to see Safeeyah."
Revenge burned openly in her eyes now. No disguise. No restraint.
She turned and walked off without waiting.
Tahir followed.
Reluctantly.
Silently.
Behind them, Aysha stood frozen, watching their backs disappear into the tide of students. The echoes of what she'd just heard rattled in her skull—ARC, Malik, Safeeyah, Jamal, Mimi, Tahir—names colliding like speeding trains.
He stole his childhood friend's first girlfriend. ?
Who the heck are you, Tahir ?
She swallowed.
"This school," she whispered to herself, voice thin with disbelief,
"is a disaster movie."