Royalty Gone Bad
Chapter 13: 13. Words Of Anger

Asahd's POV:

I stood in front of the apartment's door that evening, adjusting and frowning so Djafar and Saïda would see that I was still very pissed at both of them.

I entered the apartment and found them watching TV. Apparently they'd bought one that day.

"Good evening, dear. How did it go today?" Djafar asked with concern.

It was hard ignoring and staying mad at him. Very hard. But I had to. I wasn't going to forgive him or my parents so easily, after what they'd done to me. At all.

I banged the door behind me, frowning. Then, I stepped closer and threw my new uniform on the little table that was at the centre of that little living room. That apartment could be my whole room back in Zagreh, joint with the dressing room and bathroom, altogether.

They stared at the T-shirt in confusion. I finally spoke:

"Got a job as a waiter. I start tomorrow at eight."

I saw their expressions brighten and surprise take over.

"Oh my, this is great!" Djafar exclaimed happily while Saïda smiled and clapped. "I knew y-"

"It's thanks to none of you, so save your appraisals," I cut in rudely, picking the T-shirt up. "The place is literally at the other end of the town. I'll have to wake up two hours before time to get there on time. They said if I'm late, I'll get fired."

"You won't. I trust you to be on time," Djafar said happily. "I'm so glad, my dear Asahd. So happy for you."

"I don't need your trust or happiness," I retorted. "You betrayed me and now I don't give a shit about what you or miss smart mouth here, think."

Saïda smiled, undisturbed unlike her father.

"Meaning you used to give a shit about what I say?" she teased with her smile still on.

I scoffed.

"Fuck you," I rolled my eyes and turned to her father. "I won't be able to cope with this early issue. It's too much. There's traffic like crazy every morning in this city. I night be forced to even wake up three hours before time. You need to fix that problem."

"How?" Djafar asked.

"A car. I need a car," I replied, casually.

"Tsk! Wait for it," Saïda scoffed, picking her soda can up for a sip. "You'll have to wake up early, Asahd. Like it or not."

"Who spoke to you?" I asked with a frown and hit the soda can, causing the drink to pour on her chest.

"Aah! Father!" she squealed when the cold drink poured on her.

"Father," I mimicked in a tiny voice. "Next will be your brows shaved while you're asleep."

"Enough," Djafar shook his head in exasperation. Then he turned to me. "Asahd, I think a car is too much to ask. You're supposed to learn things the hard way."

My eyes grew wide.

"I'll wake up at five every morning?! Is that fair? Djafar I'll finish work at 10pm every fricken day! And I'll make it back home at 11 because of the traffic or if I don't replace a cab fast enough. When do I rest? I'll have to shower and eat and by then, it'll be to midnight or so. How many hours of sleep??"

They didn't answer and the lump in my throat grew bigger and my mouth, bitter.

"I don't even know why I'm complaining to both of you," I frowned and shook my head. “Y’all are here eating good food and living the life with the money given to you that was meant to take care of my most important and necessary needs. I know I ask useless things most of the time, but I actually expected you to be with me on this one."

"Asahd, the aim here is for you to be in the same shoes with people out there that toil harder. People who have three to four hours of sleep because of the two jobs they try to swindle through in order to pay their bills and put food in their mouths. You are too self-centered. And when that changes, then you'll start getting a little more until you eventually get yourself out of this situation," was Djafar's firm reply. At that moment, there was no way I was going to change his mind. It angered me so bad. So, so bad.

I got so angry, I kicked that table so hard it flipped and dropped to the floor with a loud thud that caused both father and daughter to shake in surprise.

"Asahd, enough!" Djafar said firmly, frowning.

"You don't tell me what to do!" I growled. "Don't you even dare, Djafar. You've killed our relationship. I used to admire you but right now," I gave him the nastiest stare. "I don't care about you anymore. I don't give a damn! You both accepted to supervise me over here, right? Well to me you are nobody!"

I furiously kicked a chair and Saïda shook in fear.

"Asahd, you don't know what you're saying!" she stated.

"You, shut up. I hate you, so don't even talk to me."

"Asahd!" she exclaimed in shock.

"Asahd, calm down," Djafar said.

"Don't talk to me. Saïda, you better ignore me. I mean it!"

And without further ado, I went straight to my room. I was so angry that I needed to calm down. Really calm down.

***

An hour after laying immobile in my room, I'd finally calmed down. I had to think positive. I'd found a job and the thought made me feel really good. I had to do everything to maintain that job. It was a miracle that I'd even come across that sign. Even if I had to wake up three hours before time, though it would be hard for me, I was going to do just that.

After thinking a while about what had happened earlier, I started regretting all I'd said to Djafar and Saïda. I'd said those words in a fit of rage. I didn't mean them. They weren't 'nobody' to me. And I definitely didn't hate Saïda. I disliked her very much, but I didn't hate her.

'I'm not apologising, though.'

Facts. I wasn't going to apologise shit! Not for the moment. I would, with time and when I must've gotten over the issue, then I would apologise. I wanted them to continue living with heavy consciences, thinking I'd meant those words.

Covering the skimpy thing that was supposed to be my blanket, I closed my eyes and after some minutes, I dosed off. I had to wake up early for my first day of work.

Writer's POV:

An hour after Asahd had left the living room, Djafar and Saïda were still in the parlour. Saïda was very disturbed and uncomfortable since Asahd had confessed he hated her. She was surprised her father looked rather undisturbed. Though he actually was a little disturbed, he wasn't that worried, though.

"Father, Dad, it's been an hour. And you're not going to say anything about Asahd's words?" she finally asked Djafar who was busy watching TV.

"He didn't mean it, my dear. He was simply angry," Djafar replied casually.

He knew Asahd so well. Maybe even better than the sultan himself. He wasn't disturbed because he knew all that had left Asahd's mouth were empty and angry words. Saïda, however, wasn't convinced. "Father, he was very serious. He looked me in the eyes and said that he hated me. He said we were nothing to him," she complained.

"My darling, I watched him grow. I know Asahd just as much as I know your older brother. He's like one more son to me. Relax. He didn't mean it. In some days, everything will be okay. He still needs to adapt to this life. He still needs to accept his present reality. Everything will be fine. Okay?" he ended and smiled at his worried daughter.

"O-okay, father," she smiled back. Of course she still wasn't convinced. To Saïda, Asahd really hated her. He'd been so serious when saying it that the girl just had to believe it.