2025-07-30 01:30:16The weekend sun hung high in the sky as Zaid walked through the familiar streets toward his mother's apartment, a small gift bag swinging from his fingers. He had used some of the money from his completed tasks to buy her something nice, a small token of appreciation for everything she had done for him. His heart swelled at the thought of surprising her.
But as he turned the corner onto her street, his steps faltered. There, standing near the entrance of the apartment building, was his father, a man he hadn't seen in years. Beside him stood a woman Zaid didn't recognize, her arm linked with his father's in a way that made his stomach twist. Zaid ducked behind a nearby wall, his pulse quickening. He didn't understand what was happening, but he needed to know. The woman's voice carried softly through the air. "Are you sure this is the right place, dear?" Zaid's breath caught. Dear? His father nodded, his expression unreadable. "This is it." They approached the door to his mother's apartment and knocked. Zaid's mother opened the door, her face shifting from surprise to cold anger in an instant. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp. His father didn't flinch. "We need to talk about Zaid." "There's nothing to talk about," his mother snapped. "You lost the right to call yourself his father when you walked out on us." The woman beside his father frowned. "He just wants what's best for his son" "His son?" His mother's laugh was bitter. "Where was he when Zaid was sick as a child? When he needed help with school? When I worked two jobs just to keep a roof over our heads?" She stepped forward, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. "You don't get to show up now and pretend you care." Zaid's fingers tightened around the gift bag, his knuckles turning white. His father had married someone else? And now he wanted custody? His father's voice was calm, almost detached. "I have the means to give him a better life now. You can't deny him that." "I've given him everything he needs," his mother shot back. "You don't get to waltz back in and act like a hero. Get out." Zaid looked down at the gift in his hands, then back at his mother's door. He had a lot to think about. The argument between Zaid's parents grew more heated as his father's voice turned cold and calculated. "You're struggling to pay rent, to buy medicine," his father said, his tone dripping with disdain. "You got fired from your last teaching job, and now you're working part-time at a public school for minimum wage. How can you pretend you're raising him properly when you can't even meet basic needs?" Zaid's breath caught in his throat. His mother had lost her job? His mind raced. She had never told him. Despite that, she had still sent him to a prestigious institution, even with the financial strain. She had bought him a new phone and an iPad for his studies, insisting he needed them to keep up with his classmates. His chest tightened with emotion. Unable to stay hidden any longer, Zaid stepped out from behind the wall. His father's eyes widened in surprise, then softened with false warmth. "Zaid!" he exclaimed, opening his arms. Before Zaid could react, his father pulled him into a hug. But Zaid felt nothing, no warmth, no comfort. Only pure emptiness. He pulled away, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "I can't go with you, I'm staying with Mom." His father's expression darkened. "Zaid, think about this. I can give you a better life, you'll enroll in a better school, you'll have more opportunities" "You weren't there," Zaid interrupted, his voice firm. "Mom was. She worked two jobs, she sacrificed everything just to raise me. I'm not leaving her." His father stared at him, frustration flickering across his face. When it became clear Zaid wouldn't budge, he exhaled sharply and turned to his wife. "Let's go." Without another word, they walked away, leaving Zaid standing beside his mother, who looked at him with tears in her eyes. Zaid squeezed her hand. "I'm not going anywhere."
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Chapter 94 The Cafeteria Fight That Left Him Hollow
The cafeteria hummed with its usual chaotic energy, a familiar backdrop that had recently become a minefield for Zaid. He sat with his usual cohort—Bassam quietly reviewing notes, Hosam shoveling down food before training, Karam meticulously arranging his meal for a picture, and Fares scrolling through his phone, disengaged. For a moment, it almost felt normal.The shift in the air was subtle at first. A group of Blue Card students, the academic elite who usually occupied their own privileged corner, began moving with a collective, swaggering purpose across the room. Their path led directly to Zaid’s table. Conversations nearby hushed.“Well, if it isn’t the school’s rising star,” said the one in front, a tall boy named Rami whom Zaid knew from the advanced science class. His smile was all polished enamel and false warmth. “Congratulations, Zaid.”Zaid eyed him warily. “For what?”“For making your way up,” another chimed in, a boy named Ameen. “We heard. The Blue Card is practically y
Chapter 93 A New Levelling Up Method
The Summit Athletics studio, once a place of daunting newness, had become a familiar workplace. Yet, it held a new kind of scrutiny. During a break between shots for a line of running gear, a senior stylist for the brand, a woman named Hala whose keen eyes missed nothing, approached Zaid not with a clothing adjustment, but with a quiet, professional suggestion.“Zaid, a word?” she said, her voice low. “The camera is very high-definition. It picks up every pore, every bit of texture. You have great bone structure, but your skin… it’s looking a little tired, a little stressed. You’re young, you can fix it easily. You just need a basic routine.”Zaid was taken aback. He’d never thought about his skin beyond washing it with soap in the shower. “A routine? Like what?”Hala, pleased he was receptive, pulled out her phone. “Nothing crazy. A gentle cleanser, a good moisturizer, and sunscreen. Non-negotiable sunscreen.” She typed out a list of brand names, a pharmacy cleanser, a good moisturiz
Chapter 92 Hint Of Jealousy
The polished smile of the reporter in front of his room was the final straw. It felt like a violation, a trespassing beyond any screen or public space, right into the last shred of his privacy.“No,” Zaid said, the word flat and final. Before the woman, Sarah, could launch into her reassuring spiel, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her calling after him from his doorway. He didn’t run, but his pace was a fast, determined march. He went straight to the headmaster’s office, bypassing the terrified assistant, and told Mr. Fadi what had happened—a reporter from a gossip magazine had infiltrated the student dormitories.The school’s reaction was swift and severe. Security was called. Sarah and her photographer colleague were escorted off the premises with a stern warning about trespassing. An email was sent to all staff and students reminding them of the media policy and the importance of safeguarding the school’s privacy. The institutional machinery had protected him, but it
Chapter 91 Handsome Boy Complex
The cold, quiet kitchen and his mother’s wounded eyes haunted Zaid through a sleepless night. The numbers in his bank account, the subscriber count, the Blue Card promise, they all felt like monuments built on shifting sand. The foundation, his home, was crumbling. By dawn, a fierce, clear determination cut through the fog of exhaustion and guilt. He picked up his phone.The first call was to Khamees. “Cancel everything for today. The channel, everything. I don’t care. Push it all back.”“Zaid, we have the—”“Cancel it,Khamees. Please. Just for today.”Hearing the raw edge in his friend’s voice,Khamees simply said, “Okay. Done. I’ll handle it.”The next call was to the school office, leaving a message about a family emergency. Then, he called his mother. It rang several times before she answered, her voice guarded. “Yes?”“Mama, I’m not going to school today. I’m not going to work. I’m coming home. I’ll be there in an hour.”A long pause. “You don’t have to do that.”“I want to.Please
Chapter 90 The Price Of Success
The avalanche of success, so exhilarating at first, quickly hardened into a grueling daily avalanche of obligations. The single offer from Summit Athletics cracked open a dam. Another sportswear brand wanted him for a weekend campaign. A local watch company saw his "blend of traditional and modern" and sent a feeler. A men's fragrance line, aiming for a "fresh, youthful" angle, contacted Khamees directly. The channel, buoyed by the million-subscriber milestone, demanded consistent, high-quality content to appease the algorithm they had finally conquered.Zaid's life became a meticulously color-coded spreadsheet in Khamees's laptop, a prison of productivity. Mornings were for school, but his mind was often replaying the photographer's directions from the day before or mentally scripting the next channel video. Afternoons were a frantic scramble: a two-hour photoshoot at a studio across town, a rushed meal gulped in the car, then back to the dorms for a three-hour editing session with
Chapter 89 Leveling Up Unexpectedly
The creeping, itchy feeling of being a public curiosity was still clinging to Zaid when a more formal summons came. A message from the headmaster’s office, delivered by a passing prefect, requested his presence at the end of the school day. A cold spike of anxiety pierced his gut. Had someone complained about the whispers in the cafeteria? Had his modeling been deemed “unbecoming” of a student?He knocked on the heavy wooden door with a sense of dread.“Come in.”It wasn’t the headmaster, but his assistant, A young man known for his dry tone and encyclopedic knowledge of school regulations. He sat behind a neat desk, a file open before him.“Zaid. Please, sit.”Zaid sat on the edge of the hard chair, back straight, bracing for a reprimand.The assistant adjusted his glasses and peered at him. “There have been… rumblings. Around the school. And beyond it, it seems.” He didn’t sound disapproving, merely factual. “It has come to our attention that you have embarked on a rather successfu
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