Jacob stepped out of the house, closing the door behind him with his backpack hanging from one shoulder.
Beside him walked Houssam, carrying himself with effortless confidence, as though the streets belonged to him. The cool evening breeze brushed against their faces, while fallen leaves danced along the pavement like a welcome to whatever adventure awaited them.
Jacob smirked.
"Did you really need to wear a Gucci suit just to go to the park?"
Houssam did not even blink.
"Obviously. Life is short dress as though you're here to seduce fate itself."Obviously. Life is short dress as though you're here to seduce fate itself."
Jacob laughed and shook his head.
Together, they made their way to the wide public park, where teenagers loitered in clusters or exercised beneath the dim streetlights. They sat on a wooden bench near the fountain.
Jacob twisted open a bottle of water.
"You know… I forgot I'm fatherless."
He took a sip.
"Worse girlfriend-less."
Houssam stared at the sky.
"That's because you've lived in your father's shadow."
Then his tone deepened.
"My life… is complicated. Never tasted love. Some secrets? I'll carry them to the grave."
He glanced around the park.
"But here? Everything feels real."
A pigeon landed nearby.
"Even the pigeons fly with dignity."
Jacob blinked.
"That was weirdly deep…"
He nodded slowly.
"And true."
Just then, a girl in school uniform passed by, ponytail swaying behind her. She stole a glance at Houssam.
He noticed.
He did not react.
Instead, he muttered:
"See how girls respect you once you respect yourself? Never the other way around."
Jacob grinned.
"Or maybe it's because your suit costs more than her dad's car."
Houssam shrugged.
"Wouldn't rule it out."
A minute of silence passed.
Then Jacob stiffened.
"Houssam… I think we're being watched."
Houssam's expression did not change.
"I know. Don't look back."
He lowered his voice.
"Two guys from school. Adam's crew."
Jacob gave a nervous smirk.
"Adam? The guy who supposedly owns the school?"
"Yeah," Houssam replied coolly.
"But apparently he's afraid of competition."
They rose slowly.
Houssam spoke under his breath.
"Walk. Argue loudly. If they close in Plan B."
Jacob frowned.
"And what exactly is Plan B?"
Houssam answered without shame.
"I sprint away screaming and leave you behind."
Jacob burst out laughing.
"Solid plan."
They moved along the tree line, footsteps quickening behind them.
Then a voice rang out across the park.
"JACOB! WAIT!"
They turned.
Rania stood there, gripping her scooter, breathing hard. Her leather jacket hung open, and her snapback cap sat crooked on her head.
She caught her breath.
"There's a group of girls coming…"
Her eyes flicked toward Jacob.
"Might be your big chance."
Houssam cracked his knuckles dramatically.
"Then it's showtime."
Jacob pointed at him.
"Don't say showtime until cameras are rolling."
Rania folded her arms and fixed Houssam with a sharp glare.
"I said Jacob."
Her tone sharpened.
"Not Houssam."
Houssam placed a hand over his chest in mock pain.
"What about me?"
He widened his eyes theatrically.
"Am I doomed to remain single forever? Forced to kiss my reflection every morning?"
Jacob nearly doubled over laughing.
"Jesus Christ…"
He wiped a tear from his eye.
"That is deeply disturbing."
Rania stared at Houssam with open disgust.
"You're insane. You know that?"
Houssam straightened proudly.
"I do."
Then he smirked.
"But I'm also handsome. You can't deny that."
Rania sighed, then spoke as though confessing under torture.
"That is… unfortunately true."
She narrowed her eyes.
"And I hate admitting it."
Houssam's face lit with triumph.
Then, without warning, he sprinted across the park like a lunatic.
"I'M GETTING A GIRLFRIEND!"
he screamed.
"I'M GETTING MARRIED!"
He kept running.
"I'LL WRITE A ROMANCE NOVEL ABOUT MYSELF!"
He dashed back moments later, skidding to a halt before her.
Dead serious now, he asked:
"Which direction are they coming from? Quick."
Rania grabbed his ear and twisted hard.
He yelped.
"OW! LET GO!"
He flailed wildly.
"Rania! Love is calling me!"
"Love can wait," she said coldly.
"Sit down."
She shoved him onto the bench.
Jacob watched the scene unfold like live theater.
Then Houssam casually draped an arm over her shoulder.
What surprised Jacob most was this:
Rania did not move away.
Instead, she leaned closer until her face was inches from his.
Jacob stood dramatically, clutching his chest.
"I'm going to hang myself."
He pointed at them.
"I'll be back later. Just please no kissing in front of me."
The two sprang apart as though struck by lightning.
Neither met the other's eyes.
Houssam stammered.
"N-No. We're just friends!"
Then, making it worse:
"Besides… she's not even my type."
Rania froze.
A second later, she lunged forward, grabbed him by the collar, and shook him violently.
"Not your type?!"
Her voice thundered across the park.
"Who do you think you are? A Turkish drama star? A prince from Monaco?!"
Houssam flailed helplessly.
"I didn't mean it like that!"
"You're just not my style!"
She shook him harder.
"Not your style?!"
Her eyes blazed.
"What's wrong with me? My face? My height? Or is it because I'm smarter than you?"
Houssam tried to regain dignity.
"N-No!"
Then he broke.
"It's just…"
He swallowed.
"You're too strong."
His voice weakened.
"You scare me sometimes."
Rania stopped.
Then laughed darkly.
"Good."
She stepped closer.
"Finally, an honest answer."
She jabbed a finger against his chest.
"Strong women raise boys like you."
Her voice sharpened.
"Not those empty-faced dolls you drool over."
Houssam fell silent, as though struck somewhere deeper than flesh.
Then he looked at her with sudden regret.
"Maybe…"
He lowered his eyes.
"Maybe you're better than my type."
A bitter smile touched his lips.
"And far out of my league."
Rania released his collar and stepped back.
When she spoke again, she did not look at him.
"Focus on the fight, Houssam…"
Her voice trembled faintly.
"Before you lose everything."
He remained rooted in place, staring at the ground.
From a distance, Jacob muttered to himself:
"These idiots are going to get us all killed."
Rania stormed away, footsteps sharp with anger.
Her eyes burned, but her whisper carried only pain.
"Not your type?…"
She clenched her fists.
"After everything I did for him? After I stood beside him when everyone laughed?"
Her voice broke.
"Houssam… why?"
Behind her, Jacob looked toward Houssam, who had not moved.
His eyelids trembled.
His lips quivered.
His face had gone pale.
Jacob approached carefully.
"Hey…"
His voice softened.
"Are you okay?"
Houssam did not answer at first.
He took a few steps backward, shoved a hand into his pocket, and pulled out something small only to hide it again at once.
"I'm fine."
His voice was hoarse.
"I just need to do something."
He turned away.
"I'll be back."
He stumbled toward a distant tree, hunched over as though clutching his chest.
Jacob turned to Rania.
"You should forgive him."
He sighed.
"He's terrible with words."
"They're not words," she snapped.
"It's ego."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm not some toy to inflate his pride."
Jacob stepped closer.
"He's hurting."
His voice was firm now.
"And he loves you, even if he doesn't know how to say it."
He shook his head.
"I saw his eyes earlier. That wasn't hate."
Rania looked away.
"Maybe."
Then quietly:
"But pain isn't an excuse."
She exhaled shakily.
"I'm tired, Jacob…"
A scream tore through the park.
"CALL AN AMBULANCE! NOW!"
Both of them ran toward the crowd.
There, on the ground, lay Houssam.
His body convulsed violently.
His face was ghost-white.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Each breath came like a battle lost.
Jacob dropped to his knees.
"Houssam!"
He grabbed his shoulders.
"Breathe! Just breathe!"
Rania collapsed beside him, sobbing.
"No… no, no…"
Houssam's lips moved.
"Rania…"
A painful gasp.
"Forgive… me…"
His eyes began to glaze.
Jacob screamed.
"HOUSSAM!"
Then the crowd parted.
A massive man pushed through them.
Tall. Muscular. Eyes like stone.
George.
Twenty-eight years old, dressed entirely in black, moving with military precision.
Without hesitation, he searched Houssam's body.
Jacob lunged forward.
"STOP! He needs help!"
Rania screamed:
"Get away from him!"
George struck Jacob across the face, sending him sprawling.
Then slapped Rania aside as though she weighed nothing.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
From Houssam's pocket, George pulled the hidden object.
He smirked.
"Knew it."
He looked down coldly.
"You're in serious trouble, Arab boy."
Then he hoisted Houssam over one shoulder like a ragdoll.
Jacob struggled to rise.
"Don't take him!"
His voice cracked.
"He'll die!"
Rania stumbled after them.
"Who are you?!"
George did not turn.
"I end stories."
He opened the black car door.
"I don't write them."
The door slammed shut.
Tires screamed across the pavement.
And they were gone.
Jacob collapsed to his knees, gripping his hair.
"They took him…"
His voice broke.
"They took Houssam…"
Rania stood trembling, tears streaming down her face.
"And my last words…"
She covered her mouth.
"Were meant to hurt him."
Jacob lifted his head and met her gaze.
His voice hardened like steel.
"We'll find him."
A dark silence passed between them.
"Before his disappearance becomes our end."