Beau Monde ✅

Chapter 13

Nailah Zayed.

Maroudi, Nigeria.

5 Years Ago.

The first time I saw Imran was on a cruise for our graduation party. Some rich lad—I can't exactly remember his name, but I knew his face, was the one who threw the party and Imran was invited.

He, along with his friends were quite notorious back in the day. There was this group of theirs that included five members that earned a name from them. Aside from all being from rich and influential families, they were known as the top alumina of the university.

They were in their final year when I joined the university, and yet, we never crossed paths. I wasn't sure if that's a good thing or not. However, I'd like to consider it the latter since I was still getting used to living a different life.

I've been doing this for four years now though, and I'd like to think I've perfected the role. It was crazy how no one could tell I'm not the Nailah they used to know. I'm still yet to return to Nigeria, considering the plan was I wasn't allowed to return until I got this degree.

To my father, a weird name tag now attached to the man that plunged me into this life, he believed after spending four years as Nailah, I should be able to play the role and fit in pretty well.

So, I did.

It was hell, trying to adopt every mannerism of hers and learn everything about her, but I did it. The years seemed longer than it was supposed to be, and it seemed like each day only got harder. Taking someone's identity is something I used to see on TV, and I've always wondered how one could be able to do that.

Yet here I am doing the exact same thing. It helped that she and I truly have the exact face, no one would be able to tell the difference.

"Congratulations, Nailah." A random guy I have never seen before said as he stumbled towards me, holding what seemed to be a flute of champagne in his hand. His lips were stretched into a wide grin, his eyes seemingly slightly drowsy. Or maybe, he's just had a bit too much to drink.

I resisted the urge to give him a onceover, and instead, forced out a small smile. "Thank you." I side stepped him and opted to get as far away from him and the booming music. The amount of people on the first floor was too much, and as much as I do well with people, this is the last place I wanted to be.

I'm only here because one of my friends, the one I kept for the sake of getting through university coerced me into being here. However, it isn't a place someone like me would want. The music was too loud, and there was alcohol everywhere.

I may not seem like it, but I happen to know my limits as a Muslim. I am not exactly the most religious person out there, but I'm trying to not be the worst. I guess the intention and effort is what makes it better, right?

After all, I'd seen improvements in myself over the years. So, I'm going to continue down that path.

A small sigh left my parted lips as I took the stairs that will take me to the deck; and although I could still hear the music, it was more bearable compared to earlier. The air whooshed, making me reach out to fix my hijab back in place.

I was relieved to see that I was alone there. However, the relief ended soon when my gaze fell on someone else there. Seated on one of the chairs there, his gaze wasn't on me, but rather up ahead watching the sea waves.  Bringing the champagne flute in his hand to his lips, he took a sip from it before bringing it down.

I couldn't exactly see his face entirely, but I could see his side view and he didn't look familiar. For a minute, I thought of turning around and heading back up—because the last thing I wanted to be stuck with a stranger. But, I decided against it.