A New Year but nothing is special (49)

1-1-2988: 2:31 AM

Tamim was inside a large, nearly empty clothing shop. The store was dimly lit, with just a few employees and two other customers scattered about on opposite sides. 

Dressed in a jacket and black pants, Tamim stood in the men's section, staring at a row of jeans. His brows furrowed slightly in frustration as he picked up a pair of black jeans, only to realize they were distressed. With a faint sigh, he set them back on the rack.

As he turned to leave, a soft ball rolled up against his shoe.

He paused, looking down at the ball before glancing up to see a little girl, around six years old, hurrying towards him.

Tamim bent down and picked up the ball, handing it back to the girl.

"Thank you," she said, her eyes wide as she looked at him. A moment later, her face brightened with recognition. "Wait... I know you. Um... I always forget your name, sorry."

"Hi, Fiza," Tamim replied, his voice steady and low. "How are you?"

"I'm veeeery good! How are you?" Fiza asked, her small face beaming with innocence.

Tamim looked at her for a long moment before replying in his usual flat tone, "I don't know."

The girl tilted her head, puzzled. "Why don't you know?"

"Well..." Tamim paused, his expression as unreadable as ever. "I don't know why I don't know."

Before Fiza could respond, a woman with light brown hair walked up to them. She was wearing a white top , glasses, and a pencil skirt, holding a small tray of food in one hand. Her eyes widened with surprise as she recognized Tamim.

"Tamim! Wow, when did you get here?" she asked, a warm smile spreading across her face.

"Not so long ago, I guess," Tamim replied, his tone still devoid of any enthusiasm.

"Why didn't you come to visit me, then?" the woman chided gently.

Tamim shook his head slightly. "I just entered the store. I would've."

She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "It's been a long time. I haven't seen you since... what, some months ago? You disappeared right after your admission exams."

"Sorry about that. I was busy, Aunt," Tamim said. 

The woman softened, a hint of concern in her eyes. "Do you have any plans now?"

"Not really," Tamim replied with a slight shrug.

"Yay! Let's play, Tamim!" Fiza exclaimed, bouncing on her toes.

"Say it politely," her mother corrected. "He's older than you, so call him 'big brother.'"

"Why, Mom? You said I don't have any brothers, right?" Fiza questioned, looking up at her mother with innocent curiosity.

"Yes, but he's like a brother to you, so call him that," the woman insisted, her tone gentle but firm.

"It's fine. I'm okay with just 'Tamim,'" he interjected, his tone neutral. 

---

Later, in a Rural Town-

A car pulled up in front of a house surrounded by sprawling crop fields.

The winter sun cast long shadows across the snow-speckled ground as the boy with black hair and brown eyes stepped out. His expression was as cold as the icy wind that blew across the fields.

A middle-aged bald man got out of the car as well and walked over to the boy. "This is your new home from now on," the man said, his voice rough but kind.

The boy nodded slightly, not bothering to respond verbally. His gaze wandered over the fields, the stark contrast of snow and earth catching his eye. Despite the cold, the sun hung low in the sky, its light pale and distant.

A middle-aged woman stood at the front door of the house, watching them. Her expression was sour, her eyes hard. But the moment the boy looked her way, she forced a smile, her face shifting to one of feigned warmth and concern.

"Greediness, Aunt," the boy said quietly, his words cutting through the air like a cold blade.

The woman flinched slightly, then quickly approached him, wrapping him in a hug. "Look at you," she cooed, her voice thick with false affection. "I'm so sorry about what happened. Let's go inside. You must be hungry."

She led him towards the house, her hand resting lightly on his back. As they walked, her thoughts churned with resentment. "Why do these calamities always fall on my head?"

---

Back at the Shop

Tamim sat at a small table, sipping a milkshake with deliberate slowness. Across from him, the woman in the white dress and glasses watched him carefully, her eyes flickering with concern.

"Fiza's father hasn't come to visit her in the last four months?" Tamim asked, her voice tinged with sadness.

"No, he hasn't," the woman replied with a sigh. "I don't think he ever will. Fiza keeps asking to see him, but I can't make him come."

"Why don't you marry again?" Tamim asked, his tone neutral, almost clinical.

The woman let out a small, bitter laugh. "And who would marry me now? I've put on weight, and more importantly, I've lost my trust in men."

"You're only in your forties," Tamim said, his gaze steady and unblinking. "If you think about it in terms of the average human life expectancy, you still have about eighty years left. Are you going to stay single all that time?"

The woman shook her head, her expression weary. "I don't know. But right now, I don't trust men. After everything Fiza's father put me through, I can't believe in love anymore."

"There's a common phrase people use," Tamim said, his voice calm and measured. "They say all boys or girls are the same—usually in a negative way. They say it after a breakup or some other issue in their lives. I think they're being irrational."

The woman raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity creeping into her expression. "Oh? You seem to have a lot of insight into this. Are you in a relationship now?"

"No," Tamim replied, his tone flat. "It's just common understanding."

She leaned back in her chair, studying him closely. "Really? I find that hard to believe. I think you might have a girlfriend since you started university. You've been so busy lately; I wouldn't be surprised."

Tamim met her gaze,"I have no reply to that. Whether you believe me or not is up to you. I'm not interested in love or relationships."

The woman sighed, her expression softening. "Okay, okay, I believe you. But you should think about getting a girlfriend."

Tamim remained silent, his face a mask of indifference as she continued to watch him. "Still," she added after a moment, her tone thoughtful, "I don't entirely believe you're single. You look like an international model with those cheekbones and that perfect facial structure."

"So?" Tamim asked, his voice carrying a note of finality.

"Anyone would go crazy after seeing you. I'm sure if I were younger, I'd fall for you instantly. Even at more than double your age, I find myself attracted to you," the woman said with a playful smile.

Tamim's eyes widened. "What the hell… please stop. You can't say things like that, even as a joke," he replied. 

"Yeah, I was just joking," she chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "But honestly, if I weren't like your aunt, I might think seriously rather than joking . Even though I'm not your aunt by blood or anything—just your mom's manager and friend."

Tamim stood up abruptly. "Alright, I'm leaving."

"Hey, wait! I was joking," the woman called out, her tone softening. "Please, sit down."

Reluctantly, Tamim sat back down, his expression serious. "I'm sitting, but don't say shits like that again."

"Okay, okay… let's change the subject," she said, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Fiza, who had been quietly eating on the sofa with a frown, finally spoke up. "You two are talking too much. Tamim brother, come on, let's play games on my tablet."

"He'll play, but first, finish your food," the woman said, turning back to Tamim. "By the way, Tamim, how's your studying going?"

"It's going with the flow. Nothing significant," Tamim replied nonchalantly.

"I saw the tournament—congratulations. But aren't you supposed to be the captain? I noticed how you pushed Fahim to get the trophy. It went viral on the internet until the incident the day before yesterday.

I still can't believe that in a matter of hours, hundreds of thousands of people died. I'm just thankful none of my relatives live there," the woman remarked.

Tamim stayed silent.

"Sadly,  the cashier at this store also died in the tragedy. And it's New Year… oh, sorry, I forgot to say, Happy New Year," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"I don't celebrate those things," Tamim said as he finished the milkshake he was drinking.

"Want another glass?" she offered.

"No, I'm fine," Tamim declined.

"So, what kind of clothes were you looking for? I saw you struggling out there," she asked.

"I was just looking for some casual, single-colored t-shirts and shirts, and some black pants. But everything out there is weird. Torn pants, shirts with strange color combinations, odd shapes. I was also looking for a hoodie, but they're all just too much. I just want regular, one-colored stuff," Tamim explained.

"Yeah, those are the trendy clothes teens wear nowadays. If you check the girls' section, it's all short dresses—that's what almost 99% of girls wear. Even in winter when it's snowing, most girls wear dresses that show their legs, upper chest, and thighs. It's so stupid. And on top of that, they wear jackets, even though their bodies are exposed," the woman said with a slight laugh.

"Speaking of which, you're wearing a pencil skirt. Don't you feel cold?" Tamim asked.

"Well, we have the AC inside, and I wear long socks outside, so no problem," she said with a grin.

"Okay…" Tamim replied.

"Hold on a second… Let me grab the kind of clothes you want. I know your measurements, so it'll be quick," the woman said as she stood up.

"Wait… it's not the same as before," Tamim said suddenly.

"What do you mean? Didn't you buy winter clothes a few months ago? Has your size changed?" she asked.

"Yeah, I was 5'8" a few months ago. I'm sure I've grown taller since then. That's why I'm here to buy new clothes—my old ones are too short. I've been wearing oversized clothes for the last few months," Tamim explained.

"Oh, I see. But you don't look that different," she said, eyeing him carefully. "Can you stand up?"

"Okay," Tamim said, standing up as she asked.

"Yeah, you've definitely gotten taller. I think you're 6 feet now," she said in surprise.

"No, maybe. Fahim is exactly 6 feet, and I'm a bit shorter," Tamim corrected her.

"I'm sure you're taller than 6 feet. Wait… let me check," the woman said, moving closer to him. "Wow, you're actually taller. Okay… take off your shoes and stand on the height and weight machine."

Tamim took off his shoes and stood on the machine, watching as it displayed his height as 5'11" and his weight as 62 kg.

He put his shoes back on, and as he did, the woman said, "You're not quite 6 feet, but that's still good for an Asian. With your looks and height, you could easily be an actor or model."

Tamim stood up, chuckling. "Funny… I'd never even think of doing that."

"Your mom was a world-class millionaire actress with worldwide popularity, and your dad was a biologist with international awards and fame. But you chose a different path.

You started studying business, avoiding science, and you hate the acting and modeling profession. You're really built differently," the woman said, admiringly.

"Aunt, I don't want to follow in anyone's footsteps. I want to be myself, so it's really not that unusual. If my parents were alive, maybe I would've followed one of their paths. But they never told me I had to do this or that. I don't remember much about my childhood, but as far as I do remember—in those four years, they never told me to be someone like them. They wanted me to become my own person, so I'm going to do what I truly want," Tamim said, his voice firm.

"And what is it that you want to do? I mean, it's a silly question since you're already famous in the esports industry, but you did say you don't want to be a full-time e-sports player. So… what's the goal?" the woman asked curiously.

While they were talking a man came there. 

To be continued…