Episode 1: The Beginning of Unseen Bonds
Prologue
Death is inevitable, but some deaths leave a mark—a sacrifice, a selfless act, or an irreversible mistake. In my final moments, memories flashed before my eyes—not my successes, not my family’s pride in me, but her… Mehrunisa.
Her name carried a weight I wasn’t prepared for. Our meeting wasn’t destiny; it was chaos. A chaos that bound me to her like a prisoner to his chains.
Chapter 1: A Stormy Encounter
“Imad, where are you going?”
Hassan Bhai’s voice echoed from behind me as I tied my shoelaces in a hurry. Without turning around, I replied nonchalantly, “Just meeting a few friends. I won’t be long.”
He followed me to the door, concern etched on his face. “The weather outside isn’t great. Are you sure you have to go?”
“Bhai, this isn’t Lahore,” I said with a grin. “It’s Abbottabad. The weather here is unpredictable but always beautiful. Besides, it’s just rain; nothing to worry about.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, but be back before Ammi and Abu wake up. You know they won’t let you hear the end of it if they find out.”
I chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bhai. You know I’ve mastered the art of sneaking in undetected. See you later!”
Outside, Hamza and Hassan were waiting for me in a car.
“You’re late as always,” Hamza grumbled, his arms crossed.
Hassan laughed, chiming in, “Some things never change, do they?”
I raised my hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Bhai stopped me. Now can we go?”
The tension eased, and we drove off to our usual hangout spot: Dream Palace, a small but cozy restaurant tucked away in the city’s quieter streets.
The weather added to the charm of the evening. The rain fell in a rhythmic pattern, creating a soft melody against the car windows. Little did I know, this serene backdrop was about to become the setting for a storm I wasn’t prepared for.
Chapter 2: The First Glance
As we entered Dream Palace, I excused myself to freshen up. The restaurant was bustling with people seeking shelter from the rain, their laughter and chatter filling the air.
Inside the washroom, I barely had a moment to breathe before someone banged on the door impatiently.
“Who the hell—” I muttered under my breath and opened the door.
A young woman stood before me, her light-brown hair damp from the rain and her fiery eyes locked onto mine.
“Excuse me, do you have any manners?” she snapped.
I blinked, taken aback by her tone. “Uh… excuse you? What’s your problem?”
“My problem? You’re the one hogging the washroom while there’s a line outside!”
Her sharp words hit like a whip, but I wasn’t one to back down. “Lady, this isn’t your private property. If you have an issue, take it up with management.”
Her eyes narrowed as she muttered something under her breath and stormed off. For a moment, I stood there, stunned by the encounter.
When I returned to the table, Hamza and Hassan were already seated. But just as I sat down, I saw her again—standing a few tables away with her friends.
Our eyes met briefly before she turned away, her expression unreadable.
“Let’s leave,” I muttered to my friends.
“Why? We just got here,” Hamza protested.
“I don’t like the vibe of this place,” I replied curtly, my eyes still drawn to her.
As we debated, one of her friends called out, “Mehru, let’s go! This place isn’t worth it.”
Mehru. Her name echoed in my mind like a distant melody.
She turned one last time, her gaze piercing through the crowd. “Go to hell!” she said coldly before walking out, leaving behind a trail of curiosity and confusion.
That night, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her anger, her boldness, her name—they were all etched into my memory like an unfinished puzzle waiting to be solved.
