Multifaceted

It’s 3pm on a Friday afternoon, Ahmed is on his blue couch binge watching the Netflix series Stranger things like he’d been doing for the past 5 hours when his phone rang.

"Assalamalaykum Mama, juma’ah Mubarak(Happy Friday)," he said in a cheerful tone.

"Walaykumsalam. How was juma’ah(Friday prayer)?"

"Oh Alhamdulillah( Praise be to God). The sermon was great. I even waited extra minutes to pray for you"

"Wow. Fantastic. I do hope you’re telling the truth…oh Hamidah! I have to go, your baby sister is at it again," his mum cried out. "Don’t forget the blue hijab when coming on Monday, love you, bye,’ she continued.

"Okay, love you-" replied Ahmed as she hung up the phone.

"I should really start praying again," he said to himself, feeling guilty. He dropped the phone on his blue couch next to a pack of Cadbury chocolate and pressed play on his laptop. 30 minutes later, he drifted off with his mouth slightly agape and a huge bowl of popcorn held tightly to his chest.

Ahmed Ali, a young man in his late 20s with dark curly hair, light brown skin and stubble beard style, is the first and only male child of his family. His sisters, Khadijah and Hamidah, are 21 and 7 respectively. He currently works in Cairo, where he acquired his college degree in Business Administration; although, he, together with his family, normally resides in New York City-home to their restaurant business. 

His father is Egyptian, his mother American, yet are both devoted Muslims. His entire life- right from cradle till the end of high school-had been in the USA. However, when it was time for college, Egypt was selected on the insistence of his mother, so he could get acquainted with his roots, she said. The plan was for Ahmed to take over the family business as soon as he graduated from University, which was five years ago, but he fell in love with the city and chose to stay, at least that’s what he told his parents. The truth is he did fall in love but not just with the city, as his heart was hooked to this one girl, Mariam Omar. Mo, as he called her, was his ostensible soulmate; the stimulus behind his stay in Egypt. Her love took him to Nirvana till she ended their four-year relationship via a text stating “I just don’t feel the spark anymore, I’m sorry but I can’t do this,” shooting him right in the heart.

After few days of wallowing in sadness, he called his father notifying him of his intentions to return home and take up the job rightfully assigned to him. “You’re tired of running errands” was his father’s response. He got dumped on a Monday, called his father on Wednesday and started his Netflix spree on Thursday. He was on the brink of proposing when she ended it, a pain too heavy for his shamefaced self to bare to anyone. So, to recuperate, he bought packs of chocolate and glued himself to his laptop, neglecting his daily prayers. This particular week became the first time he boycotted his Friday prayers for a feeble reason, and he didn’t need his mother’s reprehension to compound his guilt. 

Ahmed was set to return to the United States on Sunday; so he could start the business orientation the following day. Before he left on Saturday evening, he made sure to check few important agendas off his bucket list: bid his friends goodbye, eat his last Kushari, and egg Mo’s vehicle. All of which he successfully completed with the last part giving him the greatest satisfaction.

After 12 long hours of travel, the plane touched down at the JFK airport, New York. On arriving home, he was heartily received and treated with his favorite dish- Chicken Fajita and a glass of cold Apple juice. After a long nap, he woke up by 6pm to a social media post that brought dismal to his soul. His best friend from high school, Jeremy, had his birthday on Friday and he forgot about it. Feeling remorseful, he called his friend that evening and offered to make it up to him-by taking him to a strip club, to Jer’s utter astonishment. Ahmed viewed it as killing two birds with one stone since he took it as a welcome distraction from his sore heart, a distraction he naturally wouldn’t even sniff, let alone permit. 

Jeremy seemingly had the time of his life with Ahmed feigning to be equally invigorated. It was a distraction after all, but just didn’t solve his problem. The summit of Ahmed’s wild night was, however, his time with Chelsea-the stripper who gave him a lap dance. She had red hair, a British accent and a bird tattoo on her left wrist. They only spent about five minutes together, and yet he managed to disclose his tragic love story to her. He felt more comfortable talking to a stranger about his issues and Chelsea seemed to have the perfect ear for that. He knew she didn’t care; but she listened, was not from his past and would certainly not be in his future, he had nothing to lose, he thought. To keep his little outing under wraps, he went with the name ‘Adam’ and pleaded with Jer not to take pictures;whatever happens in the strip club, stays there.

They ultimately left the club by 11 as he was supposed to be at the restaurant by 8am, along with his dad, where he would ultimately take up the role of the General Manager. The next morning, he appeared prim with a black suit, blue tie, polished shoes and square eyeglasses, which are in fact recommended but he only dons for work related purposes.

Ahmed and his father arrived at the restaurant, Ali’s kitchen – a fine dining restaurant situated about 3 miles from their house. All the workers were already assembled in the dining area, ready to meet their new boss. Mr Ali, Ahmed's father, is a man of average height with a five o’clock shadow. He introduced every single employee to Ahmed, ranging from the doorman, to the waitresses all the way to the kitchen staffers. After, he turned to his son and said “ lest I forget, I understand how challenging the job can be, so I got you an assistant manager”

 Ahmed was quite pleased with this, as the weight of responsibility suddenly felt lighter; besides, he had never gotten an assistant before. They then strolled to the far corner of the restaurant where a young woman in her mid 20s was sitting on a bentwood chair. She stood when she spotted them approaching. She’s about 5’7 tall, has long raven hair, tannish skin and appeared smart with a blue blouse, black skirt and black stilettos.

“ Ah yes! Ahmed, I’m very pleased to introduce you to your assistant manager, Miss Alessia Rossi,” said Mr Ali, smiling gracefully. “She is vibrant, hardworking, possesses excellent communication skills and also studied business administration. I bet you two will get along just fine” Mr Ali concluded, stealing glances at them both, itching for one to speak up. Meanwhile, the last word that got processed by Ahmed’s ears was ‘Alessia’. The rest Immediately faded as his brain got swamped with demystifying her face, because she looked exactly like Chelsea. 

'Okay, am I daydreaming? Or is this just a nightmare? It’s fine.I’ll just check her wrist for the…whaaattt? Can the ground swallow me now? How is this possible…oh my God! I thought she was British and where did the red hair go, how is she...?Woahh she’s staring right at me. Does she recognize me? Does she? Hope she doesn’t blow my cover, Dad mustn’t know I was in the club. Does he even know she’s a stripper? Keep it cool Ahmed, we never met, simple. She’s not the one and stop gawking!'

He howled in his head as different thoughts ran through, scattered, like in Brownian motion. As rise of panic flooded his system, he managed to maintain a veneer of serenity-emerging as a body of calm, smiling and nodding pleasantly to the words oozing from his father’s lips, his mind far away.

“Nice to meet you Miss Alessia,” Ahmed blurted out, the second he stopped hearing his father’s voice. It turned out he wasn’t the only one having a fleeting moment of frenzy in their heads as she recognized him from the previous night too. 

'So Mr Ali isn’t my boss? Can someone literally shoot me now? How on earth is this even happening? Am I being pranked? Please tell me I am! I can’t lose this job. I mean who else comes across their boss at a strip club, the day before actually starting the job? Or maybe he doesn’t recognize me, he seems to act like it. No! the tattoo,he pointed it out last night! He looks cuter with the glasses though . Focus! Keep it cool, Mr Ali doesn’t need to know. It’s Adam okay, not Ahmed…ok got it, act cool, just go with the flow and play along Alessia . you don’t know him, we never met. Breathe'…She thought as the introduction went on, also acting perfectly normal.

“Mr Ahmed, It’s so great to work with you, your father has spoken quite highly of you,” said Alessia in a confident manner. This time she spoke with her actual American accent, though of Italian descent.

“ Thank you, that’s very kind” replied Ahmed, his wince becoming detectable.

“Is there a problem son? You seem rather off,” Mr Ali asked softly.

“No dad, I’m very fine, you know how I get when I meet new people"

“Oh that’s right! he can be a really shy person” said Mr Ali as he turned to Alessia, who returned with a polite smile.

“I understand. I have a timid sister too. She’s the sweetest,” Alessia added, chuckling 

“Alright, I need to see one of the waitresses. I’ll just leave you guys to it” said Mr Ali, gently patting Ahmed on his right shoulder, breaking the awkward pause that had followed the pleasantries and left the two alone.

“Adam?” asked Alessia, as she slightly thrust her head forward.

“Chelsea?” returned Ahmed, wearing a puzzled look. "What the hell? How are you here? What? Who?what!Why’d you lie? I thought yow were a stripper” Ahmed lamented 

“And I thought your name was Adam," she retorted

“Come on, that was my cover. I couldn’t risk people finding out who I really was, that would break my parents’ heart. Plus I was in a dark place…a different person.” His voice grows fainter. “ So wait. You work two jobs?” he demanded, in his normal pitch.

“I’m not a stripper ok? My friend is. I just went through a rough breakup and she dragged me out of bed to her workplace. I got a tad drunk and started acting like one. She heaved a sigh as she moved the tuft of hair from her face to the back of her ear and continued. “That was a one time thing, a terrible mistake. Please don’t fire me!”

“ Ohh No wonder. I should have known you weren’t a pro with the horrible pole dancing” he replied, giggling

“Hey!” Alessia nudged him with the back of her hand "Why didn’t you tell Chelsea then, wimp!”

“I’m your boss now remember? You can’t do such,” he replied, adding a smirk. “You know my story, so what did he do that made you go rogue?” He added

“He cheated on me with his best friend,” she replied in a solemn tone

“Yikes, that’s cold. What a douche! So what did you do in return?”

“What was I supposed to do? I got really mad and just cut him off immediately!”

“Aww how sweet," he said sardonically. “We should egg his car, I’ll gladly help.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that. It’s 2019! Who still does that?” she asked, laughing.

“I do. And it’s cathartic." he said assuredly, nodding. "That reminds me, how on earth do you have an impeccable British accent?!" Ahmed asked, looking astounded.

“Let’s just say I’m very multifaceted.” She replied, gently tossing her hair to the left and throwing a blissful laugh. "you know what I realized?” She began 

“Hmm?” He gave a curious look

“We are the ones who got hurt, yet we are still losing by changing who we are and tainting our values all in the name of what? grief? heartbreak? I mean you’re probably in some trouble with God for skipping your prayers over some girl and I could have lost my job because of that idiot. They don’t get to win! From now on, we let it go and live the best of our lives. Take them out of the equation. That’s just it!" She said, gesticulating

“Ok you’re so not getting fired after that awesome speech,” he said jokingly.

They both burst into laughter afterwards. Later that week, they would buy two crates of egg and do the needful on Her[Alessia] ex’s vehicle.