Omar sat at his desk, shuffling through scattered papers, determined to bring some order to the chaos of his room. The afternoon light filtered through the window as he sorted documents, his mind preoccupied with the weight of secrets he carried.
Suddenly, the front door burst open with a loud crash.
"Omar!" Hasan's voice roared through the house, sharp with anger.
Omar startled, dropping the papers in his hands. Before he could react, Hasan stormed into the room, his face flushed with fury. His chest heaved as he locked eyes with Omar, his expression a mix of disbelief and betrayal.
"Hasan? What's wrong?" Omar asked, standing up.
Hasan scoffed, shaking his head. "You have the nerve to ask me that?" He crossed his arms, his voice dripping with bitterness. "I just experienced the first betrayal of our friendship—and it's from you."
Omar frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"All these years," Hasan spat, "I never thought you'd prefer Maher over me. After everything I've done for you, you still chose him."
Omar's confusion deepened. "Hasan, slow down. What happened?"
Hasan let out a bitter laugh. "I was at Maher's house, trying to cheer him up—because, you know, the poor guy's always drowning in his own misery. And what do I hear?" His voice cracked with anger. "He was bragging about how you trust him more than anyone. How you told him your secret before me. How the two of you share some special bond that I'll never understand!"
Omar rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. "Hasan, calm down. It's not like that."
"Then what is it like?" Hasan demanded, stepping closer.
"Maher brought it up himself," Omar explained, running a hand through his hair. "He said he wanted to join, so I was happy—I acted without thinking. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I told him I'm a revolutionary, that it's dangerous, and he can't tell anyone." He fixed Hasan with a firm look. "That's why you need to pretend you never heard anything."
Hasan looked away. "You should've told me first."
"It wasn't about choosing him over you," Omar said, his voice steady. "It just… happened. You know I trust you more than anyone."
Hasan stared at him, the hurt in his eyes slowly giving way to reluctant understanding. But he still wanted to pretend that he was still angry. "You better be sure about that," he muttered before turning and storming out, leaving Omar standing alone in the wreckage of their confrontation.
The room fell silent again, the weight of secrets now heavier than ever.
The tension in the room still lingered from their earlier argument when the front door creaked open once more. Hasan stepped back inside, his expression hardened with resolve. Omar looked up from his papers, surprised to see him return so soon.
"I've been thinking," Hasan said, his voice low but firm. "If both you and Maher are revolutionists, then I can't be left out. I want to join too."
Omar sighed, rubbing his temples. "Hasan, this isn't a game. It's dangerous—more than you realize. You have a family to take care of."
Hasan scoffed, crossing his arms. "And you don't? Maher doesn't? If it's dangerous for me then it's dangerous for you too. Don't feed me excuses—just help me join."
Omar studied his friend's face, seeing the stubborn determination in his eyes. He knew Hasan well enough to understand that once his mind was set, there was no swaying him. Still, he had to try. "You don't know what you're asking for. This life—it changes people. It breaks people."
"I don't care," Hasan shot back. "If you and Maher are willing to risk everything, then so am I. I won't stand on the sidelines while my brothers fight."
A heavy silence stretched between them. Omar exhaled sharply, then nodded. "Fine. I'll speak to my superiors. But I can't promise anything."
Hasan's shoulders relaxed slightly, a flicker of satisfaction in his gaze. "That's all I'm asking."
With a final nod, Hasan turned and walked back toward the door. Before stepping out, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Just don't take too long."
Then he was gone, leaving Omar alone with the weight of another life now tangled in the cause. The room felt colder, the stakes higher. Omar clenched his fists, knowing that with every new recruit, the risks and the consequences grew.
But the revolution demanded sacrifice. And Hasan, it seemed, was ready to give his.