Your Grace - Burak Çelik

CHAPTER 13

Ayedah could not believe what she was reading on the screen of her phone, when she tapped the heart-shaped 'feed notifications' button on her account. There were more than several dozen comments on a post she was tagged in- the one from Burak Celik's Instagram page:

Ugh, dating someone again isn't he? Just wait they'll break up soon enough lol

No Burak why 😭😭😭

Bruh she isn't even pretty wtf-

Ig she wears hijab and all but too holy for him ehh

She's probably gonna leave him like all the other women did, he deserves better wtf

Were only some of the countless other snides and comments in different languages and tones on the picture Burak posted of the two having breakfast that morning. Almost all were being negative toward her, some even toward Burak- though mostly toward her, for they had a lot more to comment on for her than they did for him, especially Burak's fans. They were even tagging her account on their own pages, reposting the picture of the two together- and barely any of the captions were very friendly. Ayedah stared in shock, nearly dropping her phone as her hand went numb. Ozge grabbed it from her and scrolled through the comments and tags herself, her face contorting in angry surprise. "What the hell," she exclaimed. "What the actual hell. You can't be freakin' serious-" "What is it?" asked Aunty Gab worriedly, and took a look herself, her eyes widening at the sight. "Holy shit-"

"Absolutely disgusting," hissed Ozge. "But honestly, I'm not surprised." Ayedah's eyes snapped to her friend, her head tilted. "What do you mean, you're not surprised?" she demanded, her stomach clenching as the comments were re-read in her mind over and over. "You should see some of the battles the fans have in the comment section- some are rather funny, but most are extremely disrespectful; not just to each other, but to Burak too." "Does he talk about them much?" asked Gabriella. "No, he doesn't really care," said Ozge. "I mean in his defense, they don't exactly say anything bad about him- they're all just fighting over him, really. Honestly, if some of the comments weren't so obscene I'd find it rather funny too." "I suppose he is a celebrity," sighed Aunty Gab, leaning back into her seat. "It should be expected."

Ayedah's fists balled, and she turned away as she pulled off her hijab and went upstairs. She threw her dark-colored scarf across her desk and sat on the bed, and her stomach that was once bubbling with awkwardness just minutes before was now clenching in fury and hurt. She felt annoyed and angry with herself, a feeling she knew all too well. And she also knew that amongst it all-

Burak didn't care.

She assumed that he would probably find it funny and amusing, just as Ozge said. I mean, he's a man, she thought bitterly. The male ego in him is probably enjoying it all, even if he does try to be a gentleman in real life.

It was not just the comments that got to Ayedah- it was the dark and painful memories that they brought back along with them all. It was definitely not the first time Ayedah had been insulted so unkindly, but it hurt all the same. Amongst all the other torment she had to deal with in her past, insults and hateful speech toward her were definitely amongst them- as they were probably for everyone else too. She knew that perhaps everyone had experienced hateful speech toward their character, looks or personality at least once in their life, but that fact did not make it any better for her.

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"Ah, the lowest marks once again," murmured the class teacher, as she scribbled across a paper. "Man khasala a'laa adna al-darajaat hazhihi'l marrat, ya Aanisa(Who got the lowest grades this time, Teacher)?" asked one of the students in Arabic. "Man aidhan? Ayedah Harraz, taba'an(Who else, Ayedah Harraz of course)," said the teacher loudly, enough for Ayedah to hear from the back of the class- though she knew they were saying something sour about her, she did not understand. She snickered at them absent-mindedly, and continued to doodle across her notebook- the one where she kept all her stories in. She had a sudden extreme and high motivation to write, and was doing so- yet she was easily distracted as well, and began to doodle after writing paragraphs after paragraphs of her story.