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Kiara stretched her back and held it in an arched position as she sat on her bed until she felt something go pop in her back. Relaxing her muscles, she turned on the TV that was mounted on the wall. Clicking on YouTube, she played her happy playlist before quickly grabbing her headphones, linking it via Bluetooth to the TV. As the songs started, she felt a smile pull at her lips and she started nodding and mouthing the lyrics. Her gaze fell on her knuckles again, and her smile faltered.

It was another day of bad posture with Mrs. Jones and the reprimand was clearly imprinted on her knuckles. She was lucky that her mum was at a ladies' tea party, or as the other Pakistani ladies called it, Kitty Party. Kiara was sure that had her mum been home, her hands would have been bruised purple rather than just pink.

Looking at the clock, she saw that it was only 6.00pm. She had another half an hour before Emre was to get there. She had texted both her parents informing them that he was coming to work on a project and probably staying for dinner. She got a call instantaneously from Moussa, telling her; brooking no argument, that they will be doing their project in the piano room, the door wide open with Maria their daily housekeeper sitting outside to keep an eye on them. Kiara almost laughed at her father's tone and the fact that he was panicking over a boy coming over to the house, but she knew better.

As the beat of the drums swelled in her ears, Kiara bounced herself off the bed with a little chuckle and did a little spin. Eyes glued to the TV, she followed the steps done by the actors and dancers nimbly with a smile on her face. Pushing her round glasses up, without even realising it Kiara started acting out the video clips that were playing on her TV; she acted coy when the actress did so, she fluttered her lashes as well as pretended to be mad with a lover. She had soon started singing along to the songs, her voice ringing in the otherwise silent house as she lost herself to the magic of Bollywood.






Emrey shifted uneasily at the front door of the Moussa residence. He knew Kiara's family was rich, but at that moment he realised he wasn't aware how rich exactly. He looked at his watch, a six-year-old Fossil square watch with a white face and thick, worn brown leather straps. It was five minutes to 6.30pm, the time he had agreed to meet with Kiara for their project. He took a deep breath and reached to knock the dark blue front door before noticing the bell that was installed on the brown stoned wall.

He pressed the bell twice and adjusted his backpack on his shoulders as he waited for the door to open. He heard the locks clicking open and smiled brightly, only to be disappointed to be coming face to face with a middle-aged Hispanic-looking woman.

"Hi, I'm Emre. I'm Kiara's schoolmate," he said, quickly pasting a smile on his lips.

"Hey Emre, come on in. I'm Maria, the family's housekeeper," Maria said kindly as she ushered Emre in. "Now, please take off your shoes and place it right there," she pointed to an open shoe rack. "Mrs. Moussa really hates it when people track their outside shoes in."

Silently Emre toed his worn red Vans off and quietly picked it up and placed it on the shoe rack. He was presented with a pair of hotel-esque white slippers and he took it from Maria and slipped it on. He noticed that Maria too was wearing a pair of indoor slippers.

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