Author's note: I'm surprisingly relieved to be done with this chapter. It was especially difficult to write. I see now what people mean when they say that they get attached to their characters. As much as I hate the thought of putting Fareeha and Angela through this, though, I'm certain that it's important that they get through it somehow. The next chapter or two don't promise to be any easier to write, but hopefully it will result in a better story in the long run. The songs played in this chapter have been noted as usual. On a related note, the book Fareeha mentions that she shows to Angela near the end of this chapter is Lost at Sea by Bryan Lee O'Malley.
1. "60 Feet Tall" by The Dead Weather
2. "22-Carat Tear Jerker" by Xploding Plastix
3. "Lady Brown" by Nujabes (featuring Cise Starr)
4. "It's Nice to Know You Work Alone" by Silversun Pickups
5. "The Frug" by Rilo Kiley
Angela listened quietly as the song Fareeha had chosen played in the background. It was relaxed and sounded quite romantic, but the sense of foreboding hanging in the air made it impossible to appreciate it. Fareeha had fallen silent and looked deeply troubled, as though the music was causing her pain. In such a tense atmosphere, the music felt more like a warning of impending doom than an expression of romantic feelings toward someone. As the song came to an end, Fareeha went from looking troubled to outright distraught as she finally spoke.
"I'm sorry, Angela. Just...give me a moment. This is harder than I thought it would be."
Angela nodded silently, then emptied her glass and leaned forward to place it on the coffee table before returning to Fareeha and wrapping an arm around her. She leaned her head against Fareeha's shoulder and gently stroked her knee with a free hand, hoping to give some measure of encouragement. Her heart screamed at her to put an end to Fareeha's suffering, but her mind knew all too well that she would never stop after coming this far. Though it gave her a feeling uncomfortably similar to sending soldiers back into battle before their wounds were fully healed, she made a firm decision to help Fareeha continue rather than try to convince her to turn back.
"What is it about that song that upsets you so?"
As she responded, Fareeha looked less troubled and more as though she was about to be sick. "It was from...that night. It was the first time I ever chose a song for someone else." Despite the feelings she had at the time, the thought now made her stomach turn and her heart feel empty and cold. She always thought of it as a wasted opportunity, but now that she was carefully examining the thought rather than simply pushing it aside, it felt more to her as though a thief had stolen a part of her that she had yet to replace. Angela wasn't taking this new revelation any better; she again thought of desecrated temples and wanted to be angry and lash out at Samia despite the knowledge that it would do nothing to harm her. No...it will accomplish nothing. Besides, Fareeha needs me. Just as she was about to speak, an idea occurred to her that might let her accomplish both goals at once. She looked up at Fareeha with her best unbelievable impression of a stern glare.
"So that Miststück is why it took so long for me to find out I had a song?"
Fareeha's focus was shattered as she once again found her mood turned around in an instant by the mysterious power Angela seemed to have over her. Though she tried to hold it in, she found herself laughing uncontrollably as she wondered what a Miststück might be. "That...that what? Do I want to know what that means?"
Angela blushed, suddenly embarrassed when she realized too late that more of her anger came through than she intended. "Well...suffice it to say that it is an appropriate description." Though she was still feeling somewhat guilty for speaking her thoughts quite so clearly, she couldn't help also feeling relieved that her plan had succeeded. With the stifling atmosphere lifting, she decided that it was best to keep the conversation going. "Well, no matter. My song is better, anyway."
"Actually, I was just thinking that you deserve a better one."
Thinking of the song she used as Angela's ringtone reminded her that she had only chosen it when she thought there was no hope of a future that held a moment like the one in which she currently found herself. Considering that her dreams were coming true right in front of her, it hardly seemed appropriate to do anything other than find a better one. As she quickly ran through songs in her head to see if any occurred to her, the memory of the story she had yet to finish telling once again pushed its way to the front of her thoughts. Fareeha nearly started laughing again when the thought that had all but paralyzed her moments earlier seemed to be making a desperate final attempt to keep itself relevant now that Angela was occupying her mind. With the reminder that she was moving forward and not back, her strength returned to her and she found herself eager to keep moving forward if only to finally be done with it.
"Well, I'll find one for you later. For now, let's get this over with, shall we? I have a perfect future to consider and this miserable past is complicating matters."
Angela nodded, quickly taking on a stern expression and bracing herself for the remainder of the story. She knew that it was crucial that Fareeha's fears be put on display if they were to move past them, but she was certain that as important as it was, she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear. She did her best to not worry Fareeha by growing tense as she resumed speaking.
Nearly half an hour after having left the infirmary in the factory, Fareeha found herself feeling inexplicably exhausted as she started rummaging through her kitchen. Work was tiring, but she was accustomed to not worrying about it as she normally had nothing to do other than lift weights or go for a run before ordering dinner and studying. The thought of having an engagement that night was upsetting. Dealing with anyone for long often took more energy than she was willing to part with and the dinner date that was quickly approaching was worse than most occasions. She didn't deal with people nearly enough to have any significant amount of experience with them outside of knowing how to quickly and somewhat politely end a conversation. As such, there was still much about the situation that didn't make sense to her; all she had to work with was a list of assumptions about Samia's intentions that suggested a long list of possibilities that she'd never dealt with before. Guessing at what Samia may want from her was frustrating without any evidence to support any of the thoughts that occurred to her, leading her to decide that the best thing she could do was carry on with the evening and find out for herself. She searched for a playlist that she felt would both calm her mind and allow her to get some work done as she considered the amount of cleaning that she was about to have to do. It was irritating to think about it, but it was better than the uncomfortable feeling of not being sure of Samia's intent. Finding one that she'd centered around a song that felt appropriate for the moment, she set it to play (1) and started pulling out cookware.
With no idea of what to expect that Samia might be thinking of cooking, she decided that, as usual, the simplest solution was likely the best and resolved to clean everything. It wasn't a difficult job as it was just a matter of getting rid of the dust that had accumulated on them, but it was time consuming and required her to spend energy that she didn't feel that she had to spare. As she almost never used any of it herself, it had been collecting dust in her cabinets and drawers for months. Although she often considered that she should cook more, she always came to the conclusion that her time would be better spent on physical training or studying. The stipend that her mother reserved for her to care for herself was more than sufficient for buying prepared meals or going to restaurants for every meal if necessary. Still, she never got rid of the cookware that the caretakers had collected over the years since it wasn't in her way and she always told herself that she would start cooking again when she found the time. Her relief over not having to worry about buying anything for the evening was enough to keep her from complaining about the fact that she had to clean it all.
It took the better part of an hour, but with the last load of cookware in the dishwasher and everything else dried and placed back in the cabinets, she could finally focus on getting herself cleaned up. Her relief following finishing the cleaning was replaced by new concerns as she had no idea how to dress for the occasion. This led to considering the occasion itself and remembering that she had no idea what that occasion was. The prospect of dressing for a specific event was always daunting as she never put much thought into what she was wearing outside of whether or not it was functional for whatever she was doing at the time. This usually meant clothes intended for exercise, but that hardly seemed appropriate for inviting someone to dinner. As she thought about it, though, she recalled that she hadn't invited anyone for dinner. Samia had invited herself and, worse, she had fled the infirmary before there was time to argue. Suddenly irritated, she reached into her closet for a pair of black jeans and a simple white button front dress shirt before storming to her bathroom to shower. If you're going to invite yourself over without warning, you're going to take what you get.
Fareeha stood in the bathroom with ten minutes to spare after giving herself a quick look in the mirror. While she had only intended to make sure that she looked presentable, she was surprised to see that she looked unusually formal. There was nothing particularly special about her appearance when she considered what she may be expected to wear on a special occasion, but it was noticeably more effort than she usually put into her appearance. The white dress shirt and black jeans were comfortable, but the way they were cut caused them to hold close to her body and show off far more of her slender and athletic figure than the sweatshirts and the thick and slightly baggy work uniforms that she normally wore. Her shoulder length hair was pulled back the same way she wore it at work and was slightly damp and out of place, taking away from the effect slightly. Annoyed by the fact that it was detracting from her appearance, she pulled off the band holding her hair in place and quickly decided to wear it down in spite of her frustration with Samia.
As she picked up a brush and started untangling her hair, she found herself unable to avoid thinking about the girl that had so inexplicably taken an interest in her. She thought back to the moment she'd first approached and tried to think of anything she may have been doing that would've drawn her attention, but as she had only been working at the drill press, nothing occurred to her that seemed to stand out as special. Grinding her teeth in frustration, she ran the brush through her hair one last time and, satisfied that it was as straight as it was going to get, she left the bathroom to take the last of the cookware out of the dishwasher before her frustration could get the better of her again. No matter how many times she considered the matter, there was still no new information to work with. It wasn't until she checked her phone on her way out of the infirmary that she even knew the girl's name. On seeing the surname Moussa, she immediately went back to thinking that it had to be business related, but the thought didn't last long. Though the little she did know about the Moussa family was that they only ever spoke of business matters, something about the way Samia spoke made it clear that her interest had nothing to do with the production of smoothbore cannons. Making one last desperate attempt to make sense of it all, she quickly recalled their conversations and her body language. It all suggested that she was nervous about approaching and was suggesting something that Fareeha hadn't managed to catch. Just as she started to wonder what she was missing, a gentle chime signaling an announcement came from the speakers scattered around the house.
"Incoming call from: Samia Moussa. Video not available."
"A—accept." Fareeha was surprised that she had to force the word out. Her irritation with having her plans for the evening made for her and her frustration with trying to make sense of it all disappeared in an instant when she found herself accepting a phone call from someone. It was rare that anyone called her. On the rare occasions on which it happened, she always felt oddly nervous about it. That the call was coming from Samia made it worse than usual. "H—hello?"
"Fareeha! I just wanted to say that I may be a few minutes late. The groceries just arrived. I'll be leaving in just a few minutes, though. I hope you're hungry!"
The only thing more disorienting than finding herself on the phone with someone was dealing with anyone quite so cheerful for no apparent reason. "Yes...yes, I am. Don't worry about the time."
"Well...I don't want it to take any longer than it has to. I'm pretty excited, after all! I'll see you soon!"
"Right...I'll see you soon." Fareeha could only stand staring blankly into the distance as the call disconnected. Samia certainly sounded excited, but it only added to Fareeha's confusion. She couldn't imagine that there would be anything exciting about hearing about her job to someone that didn't know any more about it than to refer to a drill press worth twice her annual salary as "that thing". It was a relief to eliminate a possibility, but all that was left was an unknown option. The only thing that she was able to gather from the short conversation was that something about tonight was certainly special. She thought about her appearance again, suddenly feeling the need to make sure it was the best it could be. She couldn't think of anything that she owned that she could add to it. Just as she was about to give up on the thought, she remembered a small amount of lip gloss that she'd once bought on a whim. It wasn't much, but it seemed like enough of an atypical amount of effort that would show that she was equally as excited about the evening ahead. Well, not excited, really...but I guess that "nervous" is close enough. After reminding herself that she was on her way to put away the last of the cookware still in the dishwasher, she rushed to complete the job while trying to remember how to apply the lip gloss that she may or may not have used twice since buying it.
Several minutes later, as she carefully applied the gloss, she quickly thought of any other small touches that she may be able to add to the evening that would indicate an effort on her part. As she looked around, she noticed the music playing over the speakers in the house. She enjoyed it, but it didn't sound quite right for something that was supposed to be a special evening. She quickly imagined the evening playing out and, while she still didn't have any idea what the mood would be, the thought of the excitement in Samia's voice made her think of her own occasional daydreams of special evenings out in sophisticated night clubs. Suddenly inspired, she ran to a tablet in the living room, clearing the analysis of the battlefield tactics of Napoleon Bonaparte she had been reading the night before and opening a list of playlists. She quickly selected one with a jazz theme and set it to play just in time to hear the doorbell ring.
Fareeha ran to her front door and was surprised to see that she was quickly out of breath. It took her a second to realize that it wasn't a matter of distance as much as excitement. Embarrassed to find herself flustered over what was an annoyance only minutes earlier, she took a deep breath to calm herself before opening the door. On the other side stood a smiling Samia that caused an odd fluttering sensation in Fareeha's chest. She looked almost entirely different than she had only a couple of hours earlier. Her hair was pinned up in a bun near the top of her head, showing large golden hoop earrings dangling from her ears. Her dress seemed simple, but it took Fareeha several seconds to pull her eyes away from it. The sleeveless dark blue lace dress subtly drew the eye to the smooth mocha skin underneath. It hugged her petite frame closely, clearly displaying the curves beneath. Despite the fact that the bodice was topped with a bateau neckline that rose to just beneath her collarbone kept the majority of her torso covered, it fit closely enough to show the alluring curves that the frilled white blouse that she was wearing earlier had largely concealed. When Fareeha noted the hemline of the flared skirt that only extended halfway down her thighs, she was shocked to find herself wondering if the point was to entice. Pushing the thought aside, she realized that she was staring and rushed to finally welcome Samia in.
"I—I'm sorry. Welcome...please, come in."
Samia smiled in a way that made Fareeha wonder if she was somehow amused by the attention she was getting. She looked back to someone standing just behind her that Fareeha had completely failed to notice; judging by his appearance, he was Samia's driver. He was holding two large bags filled with groceries that he started to hand to Samia. Guessing at what would be appropriate, Fareeha stepped outside to take the bags and then stood aside to allow Samia inside before her. After dismissing her driver and saying that she would call when she was ready, she stepped inside and removed her heeled sandals, then gasped as she looked around her.
"Amazing! This is your home? It's lovely!"
"Thank you. It's my mother's, honestly, but I try to keep it up." Fareeha thanked her automatically with a response that she assumed was a polite and appropriate one. Though she didn't want to sound dismissive of the compliment, she couldn't entirely appreciate it. To her, it was just home; relatively large, but functional above all else. Everything in it had been bought by her mother and it never occurred to her before that moment to wonder what she may have been thinking when she decorated the place. While it displayed a relatively modern design, everything was simple nearly to the point of being entirely utilitarian. The only things that didn't serve a specific function were the plants of varying sizes scattered throughout the house, though it was only Fareeha that seemed to find them useless. Her mother always said that they were important because they showed her how well Fareeha was doing when she was gone. Fareeha never understood exactly what she meant by it, but it was enough to take special care to ensure that they remained healthy lest her mother return home and change her mind about letting her live alone.
Fareeha was startled when Samia suddenly turned to face her without warning. "What song is this? I like it."
It took a moment for Fareeha's mind to switch gears and take in the song that was playing. (2) It was a slow and almost somber song that seemed to indicate the air of sophistication she was hoping to achieve. She again felt a slight fluttering sensation in her chest when she realized that it seemed to be having the desired effect. "It's just a song from my mother's collection. Somehow, it ended up in mine over the years."
"Captain Amari? This is her music?" Samia seemed to be focusing on the song with a renewed interest. Fareeha felt her insides sinking as the conversation shifted away from her. As earlier in the day, she found herself wanting to be the focus of Samia's attention in spite of how much it annoyed and confused her. Just as she was starting to think that she had determined the reason for the interest in spending time with her, Samia suddenly added, "you have good taste in music. And clothes, it would seem. Very simple and straightforward, but still attractive. It's how I pictured you when I was on my way here. I wish I'd thought of it before I got dressed, though...I may have overdone it a bit."
Noticing the obvious cue to comment, Fareeha rushed to form what she hoped was a sufficient compliment. "I like it...it looks good on you. I was actually thinking that I was a bit underdressed. Between the two of us, you definitely look better." Feeling embarrassed after having spoken more of her thoughts than she intended, Fareeha made for the kitchen to find a place to put the bags and, hopefully, hide her sudden uneasiness. Samia followed, but only after Fareeha managed to notice the color deepening in her cheeks.
As Fareeha placed the bags on a countertop and started to wonder what was in them, Samia reached into one and pulled out a long, black apron, then carefully lowered it over her hair and around her neck before turning her back to Fareeha. "Could you...tie the back for me?"
Fareeha obliged while she considered Samia's tone, oddly cautious and suggesting an ulterior motive. Though she couldn't imagine what kind of danger there was in tying an apron on someone, she couldn't help noting that it was the kind of tone she would expect to hear from someone that was trying to lead her into a trap. The thought was pushed out of her mind when she suddenly took in a sweet and floral fragrance coming from Samia's neck. She was at a loss for an explanation as to why, but it made her head swim and caused her to have to consciously recall how to tie a knot. As she tugged at the apron strings, she became acutely aware of how close she was to Samia, who seemed to be waiting patiently. Fareeha rushed to tie the knot and step away before it could be asked why she was lingering, but Samia made no reference to it as she turned, smiling and looking strangely satisfied.
The next hour seemed to pass in a blur for Fareeha as Samia went from one cabinet or drawer to the next, pulling out cookware and utensils with practiced hands that made it clear that she was no stranger to cooking. Fareeha momentarily wished she had paid more attention to the caretakers that had cooked for her over the years so that she could do something to help. Though she felt guilty for not doing anything to assist, she was relieved when her every offer to help was met with a polite refusal from Samia, who insisted that she simply relax. Though she didn't need to know how to help, she still wished that she could follow along with what Samia was doing just to make conversation about it. Now that Samia was here, Fareeha realized that she had no practice whatsoever entertaining guests. She was grateful that it didn't seem to matter. Samia didn't seem to have any problem with carrying the conversation, mostly asking about Fareeha's life and ambitions. Everything she said about herself was met with a surprising level of interest from Samia. Though Fareeha attempted to keep her responses short, her every answer was followed by more questions as Samia worked tirelessly. She had never spoken so much about herself and every facet of her life, from growing up largely alone to her experiences in school and her desire to join the army and, eventually, Overwatch. It all seemed quite boring to Fareeha, but Samia took in every detail and continued asking for more. It wasn't until she announced that dinner was nearly ready that Fareeha realized that she had yet to ask anything about Samia.
"Well, what about you? Tell me something about yourself."
Samia seemed surprised by the request. "Me? Oh, there's nothing to tell, really. It's nothing as interesting as joining the army...I can't even imagine how difficult that must be, not to mention having to train every day just to get yourself ready for it."
Fareeha, sensing that the conversation was starting to turn back to her, quickly deflected the statement. Though she was enjoying talking about herself for the first time that she could recall, she was still curious about Samia and why she had taken such an interest in her. "It's nothing that special, really. It's just work." Remembering the conversation that had taken place in the factory earlier, she quickly added, "come on, tell me about yourself. I'm curious about you."
Blushing fiercely, Samia's determination seemed to falter as she reluctantly began telling Fareeha about herself. Though she started by only telling minor details about herself as she began setting the dining room table, Fareeha responded in the same way that Samia had earlier by following up her simple responses with more questions. She seemed overwhelmed by the attention and soon began speaking at length, talking about her friends, her family and her daily routine of shopping and keeping further ahead of everyone she knew when it came to being fashionable. It all seemed simple enough, but she spoke about it in excruciating detail. It was exactly this kind of conversation about seemingly nothing in particular that usually annoyed Fareeha to the point of avoiding them altogether, but she couldn't help enjoying it this time. Samia continued speaking about the places she liked spending her time and which friends were likely to show up at each of them as they began eating the baba ghanoush and maḥshi ḥamām that had been prepared. It wasn't until Fareeha had taken her first bite that she lost track of the conversation, causing Samia to quickly look worried when she noticed the sudden distraction.
"I—is anything wrong?"
"Wrong? It's amazing!" It wasn't until that moment that she realized that she hadn't eaten a home cooked meal in the better part of a year. Even then, it was only something Fareeha had quickly made after a moment of frustration with the thought of making another sandwich for the third night that week. While she normally valued her independence, she couldn't deny that not having the time or energy to spend over an hour cooking most days made for a few experiences that she missed having from time to time.
Blushing intensely, Samia looked down at her own plate, absentmindedly pushing food around but not managing to eat any of it. Seeing that she had unexpectedly gone quiet, Fareeha thought for a moment about the proper way to proceed. Her first thought was that something was wrong, but at the same time, she seemed to like the attention. Hoping that her assessment was accurate, she continued asking her about herself. "How did you get so good at cooking?"
"It...it was my parents' idea. They want me to become a good wife and find someone nice to marry. Learning how to cook just went along with that plan."
"If you can pull together something like this so effortlessly, I get the feeling that you won't have anything to worry about."
Samia giggled in spite of herself, overcome with emotion after hearing the compliment. She ate in silence until Fareeha continued with her questions.
After eating, Samia suddenly asked Fareeha for a tour of the house, a request that was met with confusion. While it was slightly larger than the average home, it hardly seemed large enough to warrant a tour. Despite this, she quickly agreed as indulging her seemed to be the polite thing to do. Samia followed behind her, politely commenting on each room in the house and only stopping when they reached Fareeha's bedroom.
"Hey...what's in here?"
"That? That's just my bedroom."
"Can I see?"
Fareeha couldn't say why, but she found herself again suspicious of Samia's intent. Nothing seemed harmful about it, but something in her tone made it seem as though there was an ulterior motive behind the request. "Sure...if you really want. There's nothing special in there, though."
Though something about the interest in her bedroom seemed out of place considering that Samia had only commented on her mother's room filled with souvenirs from her travels just enough to be polite, Fareeha couldn't think of a reason to be concerned about it. She was surprised by Samia's excitement when they walked through the door and she began looking around the bedroom that Fareeha only ever thought of as just another room in the house. A simple set of bedroom furniture was the only thing that looked as though it belonged there. Every available corner was filled with various pieces of exercise equipment, most notably a set of dumbbells in one corner and a heavy bag suspended from the ceiling in another. Every available surface was covered with books about military history and physical fitness that had long ago been imported into her tablet. The only thing not quite fitting the theme was a large framed poster hanging on one wall over her king size bed depicting Reinhardt. Samia looked at it and smiled as she turned back to Fareeha, who was already feeling embarrassed by the thought of having to explain why it was there.
"I've had it since primary school. It's...my favorite one."
"That's adorable!"
Samia seemed to genuinely appreciate the one personal touch prominently displayed in the room that didn't seem to serve some specific purpose. Fareeha was surprised by the reaction; from the way Samia spoke of keeping up with current trends, she was certain she was about to be laughed at. Just as she was about to admit to what she was thinking, Samia sat on one side of Fareeha's bed and pick up a heavy book with a worn cover on the nightstand next to it. She wasn't sure why, but the sight caused Fareeha's heart to stutter.
"Why such a large bed? It's one of the only things in here that looks like it's for comfort."
I'm surprised she noticed that. Fareeha turned away as she felt heat spreading across her face. "To...keep me from falling out. I toss and turn in my sleep. I finally asked my mother to buy me a bigger bed when I got sick of waking up on the floor."
Samia laughed as she looked down at the book again. "As I said, adorable. What is this, exactly?" Despite staring at the cover, Samia seemed to be somehow confused by the book in her hands.
"That's just an old book about wilderness survival. I bought a digital copy a couple of years ago, but I've had it so long that I couldn't bring myself to throw it out."
Samia flipped through the pages, stopping on one detailing the process of tying various types of knots. "Why would you need to be able to tie so many different knots? A knot is a knot, isn't it?"
"Not really. They each have different uses. It's an old book and many of them are rarely used anymore, but it's good to know just in case it ever comes up. You'd be surprised what might save your life when you're in the middle of nowhere."
Samia looked over the different knots again, but didn't seem to be able to pull any more information from the page. "I still don't see the difference. Show me." She smiled shyly as she patted the bed next to her, causing Fareeha's heart to stutter again as she obliged.
After several minutes of explaining the differences in the uses of the different knots, Samia smiled at again, though something about her expression had changed that Fareeha couldn't place aside from the fact that it made her a little nervous. "You know, I think you've probably forgotten more about survival than I've ever known. The best I can do is not leave the city and hope it never comes up."
Something about the tone of the compliment made Fareeha uneasy, although the sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant. "It's...just that I'm sure I'll need to know it at some point. In the army, I mean."
"You really are serious about it, aren't you? It's impressive. I don't know anyone that committed to anything."
"It's just what I've always wanted to do. It's nothing special..." Fareeha's voice trailed off as she felt Samia's hand on hers. She tried to speak in an attempt to remain calm and casual, but the words in her mind refused to come out of her mouth.
"Don't say that. It's special...you're special." Samia leaned in closer, again overwhelming Fareeha's senses with the floral scent coming from her skin.
"N—no, not really. It's just—" Her words were cut off as Samia placed a light kiss on her lips. Unable to react, Fareeha could only stare in shock.
Samia laughed and blushed as she looked away. "I'm sorry. I've just been wanting to do that for a while."
"N—no! No, don't be sorry. It was—I mean, I...liked it." Fareeha was at a loss as to how the words managed to come out, but she couldn't bring herself to regret them.
Smiling, Samia took it as an invitation and leaned in again, this time pulling Fareeha close as she kissed her. Fareeha's eyes slowly closed as she put a hand on Samia's waist and the world around her faded out of focus, only able to manage to focus on the soft lips that eventually began to part. Her head spinning, it took her a moment to notice a tugging sensation from somewhere on her torso. Immediately thinking of her stitches, her eyes opened in surprise as she looked down to see Samia's finger hooked inside of her shirt. One of her buttons had been undone and she was working on a second. She looked up, her mind unable to process the confusion in addition to the flood of emotions clouding her thoughts. Samia only giggled and quickly kissed her again as the second button came undone.
"You're unbelievably strong, but you're cute when you're at a loss."
Fareeha started to speak, but again the words wouldn't come. A third button came free and revealed a simple black bra underneath and, seeing it, Samia smiled as she put a finger underneath it and tugged on it to pull Fareeha closer. "Come, now...no need to be shy."
"Schlampe."
Fareeha once again found herself brought back to the present with a jolt. She looked over at Angela, who was staring off into the distance and, for a moment, Fareeha got the feeling that it was for the best that she couldn't see her expression. She didn't recognize the word, but the tone made it clear that she should wait for the moment to pass. As she sat in silence and waited for Angela to speak, it occurred to Fareeha that the story was dragging along. In her determination to tell it in spite of her desire for the ordeal to be behind her, she had gone into a bit more detail than was necessary. I don't know any more about talking to people now than I did back then. Better too much information than not enough, I suppose, but I should get on with it...for both of our sakes. She was grateful when Angela spoke again and interrupted her feelings of guilt.
"So, this...Samia...she set out to seduce you from the beginning?" Angela spoke slowly and clearly, but the tension in her voice was unmistakable.
Fareeha released the breath that she didn't realize she was holding until Angela finally spoke. "Yes, it seems that way. It took me years to figure that out. At the time, I didn't know much about people outside of what I'd seen on television. I just...assumed it was normal."
Angela immediately regretted sounding quite so terse. It took a moment for her to remember that someone like Fareeha who spent so much of her life alone up to that point was all but helpless in such a situation. She attempted to soften her tone as she continued. "Do you...have any idea why? I mean, I know why I would do such a thing, but I am inclined to question that girl's motives."
Fareeha's brow furrowed as she considered the question. "I can't honestly say that I'm certain about that. I've wondered about it before, of course, but the only thing I've ever been able to imagine is that it's because I was different."
"Different? How?"
"I wasn't like anyone she knew. I willingly gave her attention. From the way she talked about her friends, it was the sort of thing that was only given begrudgingly, if at all. More than that, I worked hard and had plans for the future. It was exactly the sort of thing that she and all of her friends avoided. Normal behavior for that age, of course, but the fact that I was the opposite made me stand out. I was a piece that was missing from her collection."
"Collection?"
"That's how I've always thought of it. She always referred to people by the traits that set them apart from others. She gathered people around her that stood out in some way, whether it was their accomplishments or their ties to other noteworthy people. Everyone that shared her company had to have an extraordinary selling point, and mine was that I was different."
"And incredibly gorgeous."
How does she keep doing that? Fareeha hadn't taken any particular notice of the sour mood that was developing inside of her until Angela managed to break her out of it. "Well...I don't know about that, but she did seem to desire me."
"And you?"
She immediately regretted having asked when she saw the look on Fareeha's face, suggesting regret more than anything else. "I was in love...at least, I assumed I was. It isn't as though I had anything to compare it to at the time. I was empty inside when she came along and filled that space with something. It never occurred to me to question what it was or whether or not it was good for me. I just accepted it and was grateful."
Angela cringed at the thought of not being able to even share such an experience with anyone. "Was there no one you could talk to about it? Someone that could have...warned you?"
"There weren't many people for me to tell...only my mother, really."
"What did she think?"
"She seemed excited at first. I think that finding someone special was exactly the sort of thing she was hoping would come along and keep me from wanting to join the army. She didn't waste any time voicing her approval in the beginning, but...she changed her mind."
"Why?"
"The more I told her about Samia, the less she trusted her." Fareeha thought back to the long conversations she had with her mother about the budding romance. As excited as she seemed at first, the conversations gradually took a much more serious tone.
"Why did she not trust her?"
"It was the way that she treated me that my mother didn't like."
"The way she treated you?" Angela felt herself growing tense, experiencing a sensation that made her think of being in a falling aircraft and bracing for impact.
"It wasn't anything overly offensive, at least not to a girl that was desperate to not be alone anymore that didn't know any more than I did about dealing with people. It was the way that she always seemed to be keeping me a secret from everyone that bothered my mother. We only ever spent time together at my house and never seemed to run into each other anywhere other than at the factory. When her father brought her there, she wouldn't as much as make eye contact with me. My mother always said, 'this girl should be proud of being with you! She should be sharing her good fortune with everyone the same way that she shows off those trashy clothes she buys!' " Fareeha paused as she heard a soft laugh from Angela. "What?"
"I just found myself missing Ana. She never was one for holding much back."
Fareeha smiled at the thought. "True...especially when she knew she was right. She only stopped bringing up the matter when I refused to hear her warnings. It's my own fault that she stopped trying to warn me. I was hopelessly attached to Samia by then and I didn't take kindly to any criticism of her. I was always stubborn and she knew what was coming. I think she didn't want to add to the hurt by upsetting me beforehand. She was right, of course, but the more the thought of losing Samia came to mind, the harder I tried to fight off the inevitable. Naturally, Samia always had plenty of excuses for it at the time. She often talked about how traditional her family was and how much they wanted grandchildren. When it came to her friends, she often mentioned how many of them knew her parents personally and might get jealous and tell them about us. She was always certain that they would be proud to welcome me into their family just because of my mother and the fact that I was about to follow in her footsteps. It was just going to take time for them to adjust to the idea. I was so desperate for a rational explanation that it never once occurred to me to question her until it was far too late."
"But...why work so hard for someone that was not doing the same for you?"
Fareeha sighed with regret. "I wish there was a better explanation for it, but I just didn't know any better. All I wanted to do was make it work. I didn't put any thought into what I was doing or why. I didn't see it at the time, but...I was afraid. I didn't realize how lonely I was until I had someone. In a night, what I always saw as normal became painful. In my fear, I didn't see that I had gone from trying to prove that the relationship was working to trying to prove that it wasn't failing."
Angela thought of the Fareeha she had always known, obstinate in her refusal to turn away from a task because it was difficult. Seeing the woman she had grown to become, it was difficult to imagine that she wasn't always that way. It never once occurred to her that a specific event may have been the catalyst for the development of that personality trait. She looked up at Fareeha, sitting in silence and clearly lost in her memories as she took another sip from her glass. Angela was lost for the words that would bring any measure of comfort but refused to sit there and do nothing. She focused on the problem and decided to rely on what seemed to always work, again nudging the tablet in Fareeha's lap.
"So, that song you played earlier...I take it that song reminds you of her?"
Fareeha repressed a shudder at the thought of the song, (3) but she was grateful to have been pulled out of her own thoughts. "It was later that night, after..." Fareeha found herself unable to finish the sentence. Despite her natural inclination to force herself through to completion in the face of difficulty, she refused to attempt to complete the thought. "We talked for a while about music and she asked me to play something special for her. It was the first song that came to mind." It pained her to think about the song again, but Angela seemed curious about it. Refusing her was something that she wasn't accustomed to doing, and she could find no sense in starting now, especially for the sake of someone long dead to her. She forced herself to remember her words to herself earlier that evening and felt a small amount of relief. The cow doesn't deserve it. Besides, I like this song.
"I see." Despite her desire to help Fareeha, Angela couldn't deny that continuing this conversation was painful, even on the receiving end. It took her a moment to recover. "Perhaps another song is in order now."
Fareeha looked down at the tablet and, immediately understanding what Angela was thinking, scrolled through another playlist before stopping on one song in particular. (4) The sound of the electric guitar was harsh when compared to the soothing sound that was echoing in her mind a moment earlier, but when the shock of the transition from one song to the next passed and the vocals came in, she was glad for a better representation of her feelings.
Angela took a minute to take in the words and hazard a guess at why Fareeha chose it before she continued speaking. "There is something that I still do not understand. Even if she was afraid of what her family would say, why would she do something as horrible as try to hide you from them?"
"I've asked myself that same question so many times that I stopped just because I was sick of not having an answer. There are many possibilities; it could be that we were young and I was taking it more seriously than she was, or it could be that she was cornered and afraid, or she may simply be heartless. I never asked her why, but it's probably just as well. I wouldn't have believed anything that she told me."
"Why would she have been afraid?"
"It may have just been a convenient excuse, but from what I know of them, her family really was traditional. More than that, they wanted to ensure that both the family and the business would continue to grow...to the point that they arranged a marriage for her."
"Was zur Hölle?"
Fareeha flinched at the sound of the exclamation. I think I know what that one means. "I didn't find out until after everything was out in the open. Her parents found a boy from a wealthy family in Cairo. They were also weapons dealers, but his family's weapon designs were revolutionary...and a threat. A merger between the two families would ensure a merger of the businesses."
Angela was apoplectic. "And how long was she hiding that?"
"Longer than she was hiding me. From what I gathered later, it had been decided several months before we'd met."
Fareeha was relieved when Angela once again reached for the bottle in the bucket on the coffee table, this time emptying it into her glass. If nothing else, it meant that she was in control of herself enough to try to calm down. Never having seen her so angry before, Fareeha wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. "Perhaps...this is enough for tonight."
"Absolutely not." Angela spoke with a tone that made Fareeha freeze in place, not daring to do as much as breathe too deeply. Noting Fareeha's sudden tension, she added, "please...continue."
Fareeha waited a moment to ensure that it was a good idea before speaking again. "There isn't much to tell. I found out about him and...well, there wasn't any pretending that things would somehow work out afterward."
"How did you find out?"
"Her birthday party."
Fareeha thought back to telling the shortest possible version of the story to Lena earlier in the day and was surprised to find herself relieved to tell it now. At the time, it was a thought to be avoided at all costs. Now that she was finally about to tell the story for the first time since it happened, she could almost feel the relief of finally getting past it. It was just a matter of saying the words and being done with it.
"She told me one day that she was having a birthday party soon. She talked about what a grand affair it was going to be and how hard she was trying to find the perfect dress for it. I assumed it was an invitation and the day had finally come for her to introduce us to the world as a couple. Thinking about it now, she was most likely just bragging and didn't even consider that telling me about it was a bad idea until after she had done it. She seemed unusually tense the rest of that night, but I didn't think about it any more than any other warning sign she gave. The closer the day came, the more I started thinking of making a good first impression. They always spoke highly of me around the factory, but that hardly seemed to be enough to impress someone like her father. I started...shopping. For a dress."
Angela took in the words and found herself once again noticing the elegant black silk crepe de chine dress she was now wearing. Realizing that there was no way she had managed to buy it without remembering this story, her heart started to ache when she considered what Fareeha must have endured earlier in the day. "W—what happened then?"
"I sent her a message one day to ask what time I should meet her for the party. She didn't respond."
"Until when?"
Fareeha tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace. "Never."
Angela took a moment to process what she was hearing. She had known that whatever Fareeha had endured must have been painful, but she never thought before that moment that it would parallel her own experiences. The thought that so much harm had come to her was nearly too much for her to bear. She desperately searched for the right words, but none occurred to her other than more questions.
"Did you not recover?" Angela asked the question barely above a whisper with a desperately hopeful tone.
"More or less, but it took time."
"More or less?"
"I eventually came to terms with it, but nothing ever came along to replace what I'd lost. I'm glad that I had already decided to join the army. By that time I was hollow and reckless, and the combination doesn't bode well for one's future." Fareeha again remembered the moment in which she found herself in battle for the first time and felt a chill run through her when she considered how close she had come to losing a future in which she could regret her actions. The army gave her direction, but it didn't fix the parts inside of her that were broken, seemingly beyond repair. It was often only through luck that she managed to survive long enough for the direction she found to take root and give her life some focus other than despair.
"And...did you ever try again?"
"No. Never. There were others that took an interest, but...by that time, I'd had plenty of time to think about the mistakes that I'd made in ignoring warning signs. Every time someone approached me, I saw those same mistakes waiting to be made again. People had an interest in my mother's legacy or what doors I could open for them, but never in me. Just like with Samia, there was no love there. I was merely useful or...convenient. The thought that Samia was the closest I'd ever been to having someone care about me alone aside from my mother made me sick." Suddenly finding it difficult to continue, she quickly scrolled through the songs on the tablet and selected another. (5) As the familiar and deceptively pleasant sound of a guitar reached her ears, the words to express her feelings finally took a definite form in her mind. "I tried to think about finding someone to get close to one day, but it seemed as though I was no longer capable of it. As the years went by, I just stopped worrying about it. It was a new kind of normal. I didn't even care anymore until...well, until I got to know you."
Angela had given up on finding a silver lining to this story and was taken aback by the sudden change in Fareeha's tone. "M—me?"
"Yes. You were the first one that was truly different." Fareeha seemed to be thinking for a moment. Angela waited as patiently as she could for her to continue. "I've been wondering about this for a while now, but I think that's what bothered me about having feelings for you. You actually were different. I kept looking for those warning signs and never saw them. I couldn't find anything about you that suggested that you would hurt me, but I was convinced that there must be something there. If I'm honest with myself, I was convinced that I must be the problem." Seeing that Angela was looking aghast, she quickly added, "I was the only common factor in all of those situations, after all. More than that, I worried about losing you if I wanted something that you didn't."
Angela was overcome with emotion, but she used all of the strength available to her to put the feelings aside and bring the conversation to a conclusion. It is time to put that Miststück to rest for good. "Did Samia ever come up again?"
Fareeha startled Angela when she laughed. Having put everything out in the open, she found herself able to view the situation objectively and compare the past to the present. The stark difference between the two made her feel lighter somehow. "At first, it was all I could do to not hear her name every day. I heard much of her and her engagement, but given her family and the fact that I worked at the factory for a few more months before enlisting, I suppose that couldn't have been avoided."
"Did she ever try to talk to you?"
"Once. A few years ago, I received a letter from her."
"A letter? In the post?"
"Yes, surprisingly. From the envelope, it appeared to be hand written. It was around the time my name was becoming known, so I can only assume that it was someone in her family that arranged to have it delivered to me before someone at Helix could have it thrown into a bin as fan mail."
Angela braced herself for an unpleasant turn of events. "What...what did it say?"
"I don't know. I never opened it."
Angela forced herself to not breathe a sigh of relief. As guilty as it made her feel, it was exactly what she was hoping to hear. "What...did you do with it?"
Fareeha shrugged, her tone suddenly flippant. "I stared at it for several weeks and then asked to have it returned. As I said, whatever she had to say, I wasn't about to believe it. In the end, I decided that it didn't matter what she wanted." As Angela kissed her cheek again, she couldn't help wondering what she'd done to warrant the sudden show of affection. "Not that I'm complaining, but...what was that for?"
"I know this will sound terrible, but I am glad. She is in the past where she belongs." Angela laughed and turned away, looking embarrassed. "As long as I am being...well, less than pleasant...I cannot help thinking that she is surely one of the many people talking about us tonight."
Fareeha raised an eyebrow. "That's a good thing?"
"For me, it is wonderful. Now she knows that it is too late to correct her mistake."
Fareeha smiled at Angela's words. It couldn't have been more apparent that she had finally replaced what she had lost. The pain of thinking of the past hadn't left her, but it didn't trouble her nearly as much as it had even a few minutes earlier. She thought for a moment, searching for the words to express the feeling to Angela.
"I suppose I was alone for so long after that because my standards were too high. I couldn't find anyone to fill that void, but at the same time, I refused to fill it with whatever happened to come along. I already knew the consequences of making such a rash decision."
"That does not sound unreasonable. I do not believe that it is fair to say that your standards were too high."
"It felt that way when nobody would measure up to them, no matter how reasonable I may have been. The thought doesn't bother me now, though. Having exceptionally high standards merely means that nothing less than the best will suffice for me. Even if a thing is greater than the sum of its parts, you still can't expect greatness from that thing if those parts are substandard. That's why I take so much care to only accept that which exceeds my standards. I can do better by doing without than by doing poorly because something holds me back."
Angela thought about it for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. "That makes sense, though I still do not like the idea that you would have to go without."
"It's necessary sometimes. You can't expect to do great things without sacrifice. If nothing else, it can't be said that my logic isn't supported by empirical evidence."
"What do you mean?"
Fareeha smiled and kissed Angela's cheek. "Even now, at this very moment, I continue to grow and improve...all because I refuse to accept less than the best."
Angela struggled to keep her thoughts on track, though it was difficult in the face of such a bold declaration. "What...what was it that brought you to such a realization?"
"Saleh. He was curious one day about why I insisted on refusing an invitation to dinner from the son of a wealthy businessman. I never told him the whole story, but he can be quick on the uptake so it isn't unreasonable to think that he managed to guess at what I wasn't saying. He talked me into reading an old book that he thought might do me some good. When I realized that it was a comic, I thought he was trying to make a joke. I only read it because he seemed so certain that it would help somehow."
"Did it?"
"I've never told him, but my only regret was that I hadn't met him a few years earlier." Fareeha picked up her phone and loaded an image with words written over a simple drawing of a car speeding down a moonlit road. She handed the phone to Angela, and she quickly scanned the words until she found the quote that she was certain had caught Fareeha's attention. And I will wonder forever if I'll see you again, or for six days, or for eight months, or for five years, or for the rest of my horrible, beautiful life. And other things will happen to me that are just as amazing and lovely and traumatizing as you have been, and I will tell you none of them. Maybe.
Worrying about the significance of the length of the silence in the midst of what was a lightening mood, Fareeha cautiously continued. "I...can't honestly say that she doesn't still find her way into my thoughts from time to time. The person, I mean. Usually when she comes to mind, it's only the pain she caused that I think of. I don't like it, but I haven't rid myself of her presence entirely yet. It...it bothers me to think of someone like that winning."
Angela looked up from the phone in confusion. "Winning? How?"
"She got everything she wanted."
Angela could only smile. "She did not get you. As far as I am concerned, I have won." You hear that, Samia? I have won. After hugging Fareeha tightly, she slowly stood and headed for the kitchen.
"Where are you going?"
Angela sighed, though the smile on her face remained. "To get another bottle of Eiswein. I am certain that I am going to need it. You have been quite brave in telling your story, but...now it is my turn."
