Are they a couple?

Their music is published. Myla couldn't wait to excite her fans after putting it on her pages this morning. At noon, her school ends so she returns home.

She packs in her open garage and her friends come all at once to hug her. She almost stumble to the group, her lung feeling suffocated.

"What's all these? Y'all want to kill me?" she struggles to breathe.

"We're sorry. We just can't help ourselves. Have you seen the followers you have?" Tiffy says excitedly.

She chuckles. She knows she has over a million fans. So what can be more than that?

"Listen, I really need to change. This dress is already so hot on me" she gestures to force her way inside.

"You had an addition 300K followers over night girl!" Brehilda blows out.

"I swear. I really need to change. Y'all know what? We'd talk about this whole comedy stuff next time"

"Stop. We're not fucking with your brain. Look" Brehilda shows her phone up.

Myla can't believe her eyes so she brings a close look, taking the phone from her friend's hand.

Her eyes move to the comments below:

OMG! Who's that guy? You nailed it together.

Amazing! I can't stop repeating this song. It makes me extremely emotional.

No way gal. Y'all made me cry after listening to this.

This was a good one. I'm excited to see more records with this guy. His voice drives me crazy.

Hold up. Hold up! How come I've never discovered this artist?

Myla laughs at her last read, checking the responds under it.

She's amazing. Follow her up on Youtube.

Lmao. Bro you've sleepin. She's number one.

Which artist? The strange man? –Someone with sense—

Both. The author of the comment replies.

Are they couples?

Myla blinks her eyes at this one. She should be expecting more of these. People never lack what to assume on celebrities. Wait-wait-wait . . . she's already a celebrity.

She hands back the phone to friend.

"I really don't know what to say"

"You don't have to say anything. All you need to do is relax. We'd be celebrating this tonight. We've everything planned" Brehilda announces.

"Yuppy! Thanks girls. Thanks a lot"

"Nope. Don't thank us. Thank Jamal. Invite him to our small party" Tiffy mentions, winking

Myla shakes her head "No. He's a Muslim he's not going to come"

Brehilda smacks her arm and she holds it feigning "Stop assuming and message him. You never know"

"He's also engaged, remember?"

"Oh, please. We know all that. You're just looking for an excuse not to see him. But secretly you do. You know girls . . . always being innocent. The last time we saw you two hugging, there's no way you can act up of not falling for him."

Myla opens her mouth and closes it. She pushes past them up to her room while they laugh at her from downstairs.

...

Jamal is in his office going through some files and decides to take a break. He closes his eyes and sinks into his chair, his mind travelling directly to Myla.

He lets himself drown in his thoughts of her when his phone starts ringing. He curses, frowning at the interruption.

Opening his eyes slowly he picks up his phone bring it to his head and seeing his mom on the screen.

He deems what this conversation could be about before responding

"Mom?"

"Boy we need to talk. Meet me at the Italian restaurant for lunch" their usual meet up.

"What's the headline?"

"Can't tell until you are here"

"I'm tired" he says, his voice muffling.

"Boy don't tease me. I need you here now!"

"Mom . . . please spare me. I meant what I said"

"You don't talk to your mom in such manner. You will come here right away! Or I'm going to have to come over"

"Fine. I'd be there in ten"

She hangs up.

He sluggishly stands up and takes his suit over the shoulders of her chair and wears.

...

Italian restaurant

"Mom, is that what she told you?"

"I know that's what you told her, because you are capable of saying that. You're a very heartless child"

"Mom . . ."

"Don't momma me. You are my son, my only son. I'm not getting any younger. I need you to get married"

"Please, mom, stop acting as if you'd die soon. You keep saying that over and over again. You don't need to chose a wife for me. I will chose when the time comes."

"When? When is that time going to be?"

"Patience. Don't hasting me up because I may end up with the wrong lady just as you made me do with Latif. I want to be able to love my wife. And I can't do that if I don't have an aorta of feelings for her"

"I gave you all the time in the world. Yet, you didn't see anyone. And just when you need to get married to Latif, that—lady comes up"

Jamal grounds his jaws, his gaze dreaded. This arouses fear from his mom "I'm sorry if I sounded disrespectful but if her presence is taking away my joy then I have the right delete her"

"Except you have plans on taking her in properly"

Jamal's eyes turn into a crevice "What do you mean properly? Do you think we're doing something in the dark?"

His mom is silent as she takes up her glass of fruit juice and sips it.

"Listen son. I really need you to get married. And if you want me alive to see that day, you'd reconsider your words. Return to Latif and apologize to her"

"That's something you know I'd never do. I don't even have my engagement ring on."

"Then just go find it"

"I don't know where it is either"

Mrs. Mehdi sighs heavily. She doesn't know what else to say to convince her son. She just looks at him defeated. He scrolls on his phone, his eyes growing wider.

She is curious as to what is making her son bewildered. "What's that you're looking at?"

It's his Instagram. Myla tagged him in their record and his followers have increased drastically.

His mom is frowning. She stresses her neck and Jamal looks at her. He plays the music they created. His listens to it at first slightly confused but as they song rides she smiles.

"You know the artist? The man sang just like you would. And the lady was warbling high notes. Such a nice fit. Are they a couple? It's so emotional"

Jamal is speechless. She knits her eyebrows towards her son. "What?"

"Nothing" he answers shortly.

She takes the phone from him and brings back her gaze to her son "Why are you tagged to the artist?"

"Because we sang together."

She still doesn't get it "We?"

"Myla and I"

Mrs. Mehdi stiffens "She sings?"

"Yep. Professionally"

Silence settles between them and Jamal takes back his phone.

To be continued...