Don't Remind Me

Chapter 26: The Drama Queen

"Woah, folks! We bring to you, exclusive Breaking News from the ever-so-interesting Drama Club! This year's Annual Play wasn't the typical, hastily cast retelling of "The Taming Of The Shrew", instead it was an incredibly intricate, visual tale of love, spirituality and magic.

It's Layla-Majnun meets Shirin-Farhad! (With a gay Khusro. Yep. I have seen everything now.)

Trust the Drama Club to launch this play with a theatrical flair. This author counted three separate black eyes and two limping Sophomores emerging from the Drama Room, a fortnight before the event....Rehearsal? or Reality?-
[THIS ISSUE IS SPONSORED BY FARIS MANIAR & CO.]

You can get a chance to win free tickets if you know the difference between 'hither' and 'thither'....

(Nitty Gritty- Issue Number 908, May, 2015)

"Why would you keep this from me? Why would you ever sign up for something, so utterly asinine? Dammit Layla! You were looking so terrified back there, I wanted to kill someone!" Azaan's sharp questions served to confuse me, and rattle my already pretty much rattled emotions.

"You're the one who told me to stick to my commitments! You're the one always pushing me to do better. Be better. Be braver. You did. You ass! YOU!" I choked on the last word, with anger, and pain.

He gaped at me, his eyes widening at my answer, his mouth falling comically open. His forehead was blooming into a brand new, shiny bruise, and I hoped that it hurt like a bitch.

"Layla. I say a lot of crazy things. I also say that Pizza Biryani should be a real thing. It doesn't mean that you start taking me seriously all the time..." He rubbed his forehead bump, wincing with pain.

I worried my lower lip with indecision. He seemed flabbergasted at my explanation. Did he really think so little of himself? Of his opinions?

This is so uncharacteristic of someone who thinks he is God's gift to mankind.

"So you think I shouldn't try to overcome my fears?..."

He scowled at his feet, "Not when it involves that twit putting his hands on you."

Now it was my turn to gape at him. My mouth popped open at his high-handedness.

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"No. I'm not kidding. This is absolutely unacceptable. He isn't going two feet near you, without me breaking off all his pale fingers!", I saw a determined, evil gleam sparkle in his eyes. He reminded me of a juvenile delinquent in that moment, and It was so easy to envision him as an eight-year-old terror; twisting kitten tails, and stealing old ladies' canes...

"And that other dude too. The coward who ran off earlier...I know his face...I can hack into the student directory, and--"

"OH MY GOD!! SHUT UP!" I screeched at him. "You don't get to decide what I do with my life, Azaan! You don't have that right!"

"I'm your freaking fake wife Layla!" He yelled right back, pointing at his empty ring finger. "And your real best friend!"

What even...

I started laughing at that. To stop myself from maiming him.

I was thisclose to actually hunting for one of Barbad-the magician's wooden prop sceptors.

"That still doesn't make you responsible for me, or in any way bind me to obligate your wishes!" I eventually snorted out.

"Wow." He shook his head disbelievingly, "Wow, Layla. I never realized you're so independent that you don't give a shit about people who want to care for you? Like their opinions don't matter to you?"