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Amaal pov :

I leaned close to Baji's ear and whispered ever so softly, "Jayan Mirza," then instantly covered my face with my hands.

Baji shot me a weird look and said, "It's just a name. What's there to be so shy about?"

I slowly uncovered my face, pouting and blushing. "Ugh, Baji! Whenever someone even mentions him around me, I just… I can't help but feel shy!"

Baji snatched the romance novel from my hands and smirked. "Oh really? And where does all this 'haya' disappear when you're reading these kinds of books? I swear, I should tell Ammi—her darling daughter is slipping right through her fingers!"

I huffed, puffing up my cheeks. "Baji, give me my book back!"

"Not happening," she said with a mischievous grin. "Now go to sleep. And in case you’ve conveniently forgotten, madam, you have college tomorrow."

I groaned, smacking my forehead. "Ugh, I did forget!" Sticking my tongue out at her, I pulled the blanket over my head and went to sleep.

I was peacefully wrapped in my cozy blanket, lost in my sweet dreams, when suddenly—whoosh! Someone yanked my blanket away.

I shot up in bed, screaming, "What the hell?! Let me sleep, Baji!"

But when I rubbed my eyes open, it wasn’t Baji. It was Ammi.

My heart sank. Oh, crap.

I clutched my ears, giving my best apologetic face. "Sorry, Ammi! I thought it was Baji."

Ammi crossed her arms. "Amaal, aren’t you supposed to be at college today?"

Still half-asleep, I lazily wrapped my arms around her from behind. "Of course, Ammi. There’s still plenty of time. What’s the rush?"

"It’s 11 AM, Amaal."

"WHAT?!" My tongue twisted mid-sentence. "ELEVEN?!"

Panic kicked in. I grabbed my phone—ten missed calls from Fatima.

Cursing under my breath, I bolted to the bathroom, grabbed whatever clothes I could find, got ready in record time, and dashed out.

Just as I was about to leave, Ammi called out from behind, "At least have breakfast!"

"No time, Ammi! I’ll grab something from the canteen!" I shouted, already halfway out the door.

I sped to college on my scooty, only to be met with an unusually massive crowd. Something was up.

Rushing to the classroom I found  fatime —standing right next to Kabir.

Fatima spotted me and immediately placed her hands on her hips. "Did you sell your horses, donkeys, bulls, and elephants in your sleep or what?! Look at my call log! I called you a million times!"

I pouted, putting my hands over my ears. "Sorry, yaar! But tell me, why is college so packed today?"

Kabir smirked. "Wait… don’t tell me you actually have no idea?"

I blinked. "No idea about what?"

Fatima placed a hand on my shoulder dramatically. "There’s a huge function today, and a very special chief guest is coming. But since you’ve been MIA for the last three days, you obviously didn’t know."

I frowned. "Okay… but who’s the chief guest?"

Fatima grinned. "That’s a surprise for you. But here’s the real shocker—Principal Sir has decided that YOU will be the one to interview him. No media, just you."

I felt my soul leave my body. "WHAT?! But I’ve never interviewed anyone before! I haven’t prepared anything! How can you drop this bomb on me now?!"

"We literally just found out this morning—that’s why I was blowing up your phone," Fatima explained.

I stared at them, completely losing it. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?!"

Kabir grabbed my hand, his voice steady. "I believe in you, Amaal. You’ve won so many debate competitions. You’ve got this."

"Kabir, this isn’t a debate!" I hissed.

But before I could argue any further, the announcement echoed across the hall—

"Miss Amaal, please come on stage to welcome our esteemed chief guest with a bouquet and conduct the interview."

My heart pounded. Taking a deep breath, I whispered a silent prayer, gathered all my courage, and stepped onto the stage, gripping the mic.

"First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for being here on this special occasion. And now, I’d like to invite our chief guest to the stage…"

"Please give a huge round of applause for our esteemed chief guest!"

The moment my principal announced his name, the entire auditorium erupted in cheers. And then—he walked onto the stage.

The man everyone had been eagerly waiting for.

The moment my eyes landed on him, it felt like the ground beneath my feet had disappeared. My breath hitched, my body went rigid, and I stood frozen in place.

"Our chief guest is the most successful businessman, Mr. Zayan Mirza."

6’2, fair skin, jet-black hair, deep green eyes framed by long lashes, a razor-sharp jawline. Dressed in an all-white blazer, a sleek watch on one wrist, a ring on his finger.

The mic slipped from my hands.

The world around me blurred, fading into nothing. There was no stage, no audience—only him. Only Zayan.

I forgot to blink. To breathe. To exist.

A gentle nudge from my professor snapped me back. She handed me a bouquet, whispering, “Amaal, please welcome him.”

I barely registered her words. My lips moved on their own. "Is this a dream? Am I dreaming?"

I turned to my professor, panic flooding my chest. "Ma’am… please pinch me."

"What?" she blinked.

"Just do it!"

She hesitantly pinched my arm, and I flinched. Slowly, I turned back around, cracked open one eye—and there he was.

Zayan Mirza. In the flesh.

"Oh God… this is real," I muttered under my breath.

"Miss Amaal, please step forward," Principal Sir urged.

With legs that felt like they belonged to someone else, I somehow managed to move. My entire body trembled as I held out the bouquet. My hands shook so visibly that even the audience below must’ve noticed.

I glanced at Fatima in desperation. From the crowd, she mouthed "Best of luck!" with a thumbs-up.

I swallowed hard and forced the words out. “W-Wel…co…me, s-sir.”

Zayan took the bouquet with a polite nod. “Thank you.”

His voice.

It was deep, smooth, commanding—so powerful that my heart pounded so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"Sir, please take a seat," Principal Sir announced. "Miss Amaal, our college topper, will now conduct the interview."

Zayan took his seat. The principal followed.

I… remained standing.

I just stood there, staring at Zayan like an absolute idiot.

Principal Sir gave me a pointed look. “Miss Amaal?”

"S-Sir… right!" I jolted and quickly sat down across from Zayan, gripping the mic.

I cleared my throat. “H-Hello, sir… I am Amaal.”

Silence.

The audience waited for my next question.

But my throat was so dry that words refused to come out. My mind was blank. A single coherent thought? Nowhere to be found.

In a panic, I grabbed the water bottle beside me, took several large gulps, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and sucked in deep breaths.

"Are you alright, Miss Amaal?" Zayan asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded furiously. "Yes! Absolutely! P-Perfectly fine!"

With every ounce of willpower, I forced out my second question.

"So… how did you get here today, sir?"

Zayan blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

I winced. "I mean, did you face any difficulties while coming here?"

He smirked slightly. "Not at all. In fact, it’s a pleasure being here, surrounded by the breathtaking valleys of Kashmir."

"T-Thank you, sir."

Time was slipping away, and I had no idea what to ask next. My heart and mind were at war—there was too much to ask, yet I couldn’t find the words. My pulse was racing. My chest tightened. Every eye in the auditorium was on me.

And Zayan… he was waiting.

He was watching me, expecting my next question.

"Miss Amaal, do you have another question?" he prompted, voice calm but edged with impatience.

"Y-Yes, sir! My next question is…"

Nothing.

I repeated the same line. Twice.

Zayan exhaled sharply.

Then—he stood up.

Turned away from me.

Faced the principal.

"Mr. Sufi, did you invite me here just to waste my time?" His voice, now colder than ice, sent a shiver down my spine.

"And tell me—how did you decide that she would be the one to interview me? A person who can’t even string together a single question?"

My fingers curled into fists on my lap.

"At the very least, you should have prepared her beforehand." His tone turned sharper. "I don’t have the time to sit around waiting for her to gather her thoughts. And if this is your college topper, I’m sorry, but I seriously question the quality of education here."

The hall was dead silent.

"Perhaps you should reconsider your grading system. If students like Miss Amaal are your best, I dread to think about the rest."

A knife straight to my pride.

"My time has already been wasted. Don’t waste anyone else’s."

That was his final blow.

I sat there, head bowed, my nails digging into my palms, my breathing uneven.

His words cut through me like a blade I blinked hard , but the burning in my eyes refused t

o fade a single drop slipped down my cheek then another until I could not stop them  anymore

Right there, in front of hundreds of people—

Zayan Mirza humiliated me.

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