Kamal stood off to the side, a cup in his hand, his face filled with worry and fatigue. Despite the music and the lively celebration around him, his mind couldn't settle. Flashing lights danced across his face, but his heart felt as if it was lost in darkness. He checked his phone again and called Zuhra's number — for the third time — but still, there was no answer. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes, heart burning with an indescribable frustration.
Munir walked up to him, dressed in his white birthday shirt and black trousers, a smile on his face. But as soon as he saw Kamal's expression, his smile faded slightly.
"Kamal… what's wrong?" Munir asked.
Kamal stayed silent for a moment, then raised his phone to show him. "I've called her three times, but wallahi, she didn't even look at the call. She didn't pick up."
Munir adjusted his stance and gave him a sharp glance. "I told you already… Zuhra isn't the type to attend small gatherings like this. She's used to big stages. Don't forget it was one of her fans who gave you her number, right? She never gives her number out personally."
Kamal bit his lip, struggling to hide the ache in his chest. "So you mean she hates people like us?"
Munir sighed. "It's not about hate, Kamal. She just doesn't live the kind of life we do. You know Abdul, from our class? That journalist guy who's a big fan of hers. He's the one who managed to get her number."
Kamal shut his eyes, annoyed. "As if I'm begging for a favor."
Munir laughed. "But you were the one who insisted on calling her."
Kamal said nothing. He turned away, watching the light fixtures dance above the party. "Wallahi Munir… it's not just because she's beautiful. I feel like there's something different about her. Something I need in my life…"
Munir looked at him intently. "But Kamal… with the kind of life you're living — so unstable — can you even handle someone like Zuhra?"
Kamal didn't answer. He simply lifted the cup to his lips and downed the remaining alcohol almost to the last drop. Meanwhile, the birthday party continued — dancing, laughter, and cake. But Kamal's heart was raging with the silence of a call unanswered… and a single question: Why doesn't Zuhra want to know me?
---
Chaos and Cake-Cutting at the Birthday Party
Guest 1 (pointing in surprise):
"Look! That's Mr. Rauf! The business mogul!"
Journalist (holding a mic, eager for a quote):
"Sir! Sir! What's your view on the launch of Gera Coursine?"
Mr. Rauf (stepping out of his car with grace and authority):
"Munir will lead the project. I trust him. It's time the new generation took charge."
(The crowd took pictures, smiling. Tariq, Munir's father, greeted Mr. Rauf warmly — like old friends reunited.)
Tariq:
"Rauf, you're always the king of the stage."
Mr. Rauf:
"And you've raised a prince."
(Inside the hall, people stood up in respect and admiration for his arrival. Everyone except Kamal. His face was tight with anger.)
Munir (quietly pulling Kamal aside):
"Kamal, please… behave. Don't ruin tonight."
Kamal (eyeing his father bitterly):
"Why should I? Just because Mr. Rauf is here? Your so-called hero?"
(Mr. Rauf approached, sat down, and stared at Kamal with eyes heavy with history.)
Mr. Rauf:
"So this is where you stand — like you're not even my son?"
(The room quieted a bit, though the music kept playing faintly. Kamal raised his cup, locking eyes with his father.)
Kamal:
"Didn't you take that away from me? Every time I look at you, all I see is betrayal — not a father."
Mr. Rauf (closing his eyes, hurt):
"Kamal… you still don't understand life. A father doesn't raise a son with recklessness."
Kamal:
"A father? Whose father? Ever since you chose Munir, you stopped being mine."
(Then Kamal threw his drink to the ground. The party came to a complete halt. All eyes were on them. Tariq tried to intervene, but Mr. Rauf raised his hand — he wanted to handle it himself.)
Mr. Rauf:
"If you keep going down this path, then don't ever speak my name again."
(Kamal turned away, his heart burning, and walked out of the hall, leaving the celebration in the darkness of his emotional storm.)
---
Birthday Celebration Resumes – Cake Cutting
After Kamal left, the guests slowly returned to the mood. Munir did his best to calm everyone down. The music picked back up, and the celebration resumed in full swing.
Munir stepped outside and gently brought Kamal back inside. With Munir's encouragement, Kamal quietly returned to the edge of the room.
Then came the cake-cutting. Guests gathered around the table, a short prayer was said, and the cake was cut with happiness and energy.
During the cake moment, Munir looked over at Kamal, who sat lost in his thoughts. Munir picked a small slice and lifted it toward Kamal playfully, smiling. Kamal looked at him slowly, but his heart was still somewhere else. Munir tried to cheer him up, to pull him into the joy of the moment — to remind him that today mattered.
Photos were taken, cheers filled the room. Songs and laughter echoed once again, as the birthday regained its sparkle.
---
Munir felt deep happiness, surrounded by friends and family in such a meaningful moment. His parents watched with pride, delighted to see their son celebrated.
Their friends were dancing and enjoying the music. But Kamal watched them from the side, feeling like he didn't belong. Munir's birthday wasn't a joyous moment for him. He felt trapped in a storm of emotions he couldn't explain.
Munir kept trying to pull Kamal back into the fun — dancing, encouraging him to laugh. But Kamal was buried under a heavy sadness. He felt the night would pass without the one light his heart craved — the light in Zuhra's eyes.
He raised his phone again, staring at the name that had never responded. Zuhra…
His heart sank — as if someone had poured hot ash into his soul. And somewhere in the corner — unnoticed by anyone — a single tear fell from his left eye. But before it could reach the ground, Kamal swallowed it with a heavy breath.
The birthday continued… but inside Kamal, there was a silent celebration — a celebration of heartbreak.