Royalty Gone Bad

***

Writer’s POV:

Asahd made it back to the apartment the next morning, completely exhausted and even more unsure of New York City and the girls/young women that lived it it. He was homesick. He was money sick. All he wished for at that moment, more than anything else, was to return to his country.

--

He unlocked the door and got in. It was six AM and the others were still asleep. He went to his room and collapsed on his bed.

′I hate this life. I hate this city. I hate its parties. I just hate everyone.′

He covered his face in his palms, wanting to cry all of a sudden from all the nostalgia.

′Don’t shed a damned tear, Asahd. Not now please.′

He was tired of smiling, tired of acting like everything was coming into place and that he was starting to have everything under control. Lies. He was tired of trying to fit into a life he believed was not meant and never was meant for him to live.

“I can’t,” he muttered, a lump in his throat. “I just can’t. I wanna disappear so bad. I want to hate my parents and Djafar for this but I can’t. I love them.”

He groaned in desperation and rolled unto his stomach, grabbing his pillow and burying his face into it.

“I can’t!” he screamed into his pillow. He was really fighting the urge to cry. “What can I do, to get out of this mess? What?”

He was silent for a while, breathing hard into his pillow. And all of a sudden, like lightening, it hit him. One of the best ideas he’d had yet.

Asahd sat up with wide eyes and gasped a little, hope written all over his face.

′I can save up a lot of my salary and extra money till it’s enough to by my ticket back to Morocco and another ticket from Casablanca to Zagreh! Yessss!′

it. Then he went on to search the price of a plane ticket to Morroco and how much more he would need to save up for it to be converted to Moroccan currency, in order to buy the second ticket at Casablanca. It wasn’t little money but Asahd was not giving up on

save right, in some weeks I can get to this amount and fly the hell back to Zagreh,”

parents would probably punish me for it by locking me up in the palace and my

planning on how to save enough money and return to his country. He had to be very careful so neither

I must leave this

phone away

***

daughter, later that same morning at ten when she was done making breakfast. “Maybe he returned without

Lemme check on

to see Asahd fast asleep and wrapped up in his sheets. She poked her head out and told

Ask him if he would like to have breakfast now,” Djafar

her. She approached his bed and gently patted his back through

a few times until he stirred and opened his eyes. He had sleep bags underneath his eyes and looked

“Mm?” he hummed, sleepily.

like some, now?”

he shook his head in sleep, his eyes refusing to open. And then he mumbled. “No, now

All you have to do is put the Bacon and eggs in the microwave to heat them up a little. You hear me? Dad and I are going out later and you might not see us when you wake up. Okay?”

nothing but his boxers. Saïda gasped a little

having breakfast then,”

***

Saïda spoke a little with her

I was thinking of getting a job, myself,”

“Why?” Djafar asked.

am. I hate staying around all day with nothing to do. The only thing I do here is cook.

you have an idea on where to

ingredients to make our food. I think they can take me to help. I’ll go ask the owners. It’s an old couple,

Let me know if they’ve accepted you