Incest The Long Dark Planning By Brother (Bro-Sis Incest)

[Sameer Kapoor]

Update 72

The room was quiet.

Kinza sat alone on her bed, her knees drawn close, her phone resting beside her. Her university books were still open on the desk, and her final-year design sketches lay scattered across the pages of her notebook.

She was supposed to be studying.

She had promised herself that she would organise her schedule, concentrate on her examinations, and make the next two months count.

But her mind had other plans.

No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, one person kept finding his way into her thoughts.

Bilal.
Bhai.
Her Younger Brother

His smile.
His teasing.
His unexpected kindness.
His messages.
His mysterious way of saying just enough to make her think—and never quite enough to give her a clear answer.

Kinza lowered her head and closed her eyes.

Oh, Bilal. What have you done to me?

She already knew the answer to the question she had been avoiding.

She was in love with him.

Not merely fond of him.
Not simply attached to him because they spoke every day or because he remembered the little things that mattered to her.

She had developed feelings that followed her into the quietest moments of her day.

She caught herself thinking about him when she woke up, wondering what he might be doing while she studied, and imagining what it would feel like to sit across from him and look into his eyes without a screen separating them.

Sometimes, something as simple as seeing his name on her phone could change her mood.

And that was precisely what frightened her.

She had allowed someone to become important to her without ever knowing for certain what she meant to him.

I am in love with you, you ridiculous man.

The words formed clearly in her mind.

For a moment, she imagined saying them aloud.

Her heart tightened.

She immediately shook her head.

No. Absolutely not.

She could admit the truth to herself.
She could sit alone in her room and acknowledge every feeling she had tried to hide.

But telling Bilal first?

No.

Not because she believed a woman was incapable of confessing her feelings, or that doing so would make her weak.
She simply knew herself.
She wanted to feel that the person she loved had chosen to open his heart to her willingly.

She wanted to hear his truth without having to pull it out of him.

She wanted to know that he had reached the same understanding on his own.

And somewhere deep inside, she wanted to experience the vulnerability of being the person who was finally told, rather than the person who had to risk everything by speaking first.

Why should I have to say everything?

She pressed a cushion against her chest and stared at the wall.

Haven't I already given you enough hints?
Haven't I wearing all stuff for him which a sister can never wears for a brother?

A hundred, she thought.

Perhaps not literally a hundred, but enough that she had lost count.

She had teased him in ways she never would have teased someone whose opinion meant nothing to her.

She had asked questions that carried meanings beyond their ordinary words.

She had lingered over conversations, searched for explanations in his pauses, and given him opportunities to speak whenever their discussions approached something personal.

She had made herself more transparent than she intended.

Or at least, she thought she had.

How much clearer do you expect me to be? Should I write it on a piece of paper and put it in your suitcase?

Despite herself, she almost smiled.

Then the smile faded.

Because Bilal never seemed to take the final step.

He would come close enough to make her heart race, then retreat behind a joke.

He would say something that sounded meaningful, then remind her that the timing wasn't right.

He would leave a thought hanging between them and behave as though it could safely remain there forever.

And she would be left trying to understand what he hadn't said.

You know what you're doing, don't you?

She wasn't sure whether he truly understood the effect he had on her.

Perhaps he was being careful.
Perhaps he had his own fears.
Perhaps he was waiting for the right moment, just as he had said.

But another part of her wondered whether he simply enjoyed keeping the mystery alive.

That possibility irritated her.

You cannot keep giving me reasons to hope and then expect me to be satisfied with questions.

She turned onto her side and looked at her phone.

It was only an ordinary object.

Yet it had become a doorway to a person she missed even when they had spoken only a few hours earlier.

She hated how easily her thoughts returned to him.

She hated that she could be angry with him and still feel a rush of happiness when she remembered something kind he had done.

Most of all, she hated that she couldn't simply switch off her feelings because they had become inconvenient.

I love you.

The thought returned, quieter this time.

And I wish I knew what you feel.

For a moment, the frustration gave way to fear.

What if she had misunderstood everything?

What if his attention, his generosity, his teasing, and his affection meant something different to him?

What if she had been building a future in her imagination while he was simply enjoying the present?

Kinza sat up abruptly.

No. I can't keep doing this to myself.

She had examinations to prepare for. She had a final-year project to complete.
She had designs to develop, deadlines to meet, and a future that deserved her full attention.

She couldn't spend the next two months examining every sentence Bilal sent her, wondering whether one particular word concealed a confession.

She couldn't keep living between hope and uncertainty.

And she certainly couldn't allow her feelings to become the centre of her entire life.

Her expression grew firm.

Fine, Bilal.
You want to wait until after the exams?
Then we'll wait.

She would respect the time they had agreed to give themselves.

She wouldn't force the conversation.
She wouldn't send another hundred hints.
She wouldn't manufacture another opportunity to make him speak.

For the next two months, she would concentrate on herself.

Her studies would come first.

Her final-year project would come first.

Her peace of mind would come first.

But after her examinations, she wanted the uncertainty to end.

She wanted an honest conversation.
She wanted to know what all those unfinished sentences and carefully chosen words had meant.

She wanted him to stop leaving her to guess.

And if he still refused to give her a clear answer, she would make a decision of her own.

If you don't tell me everything after my exams, I'll block you.

The thought startled her with its intensity.

She imagined removing his contact, blocking his number, and closing the door on the daily routine she had come to treasure.

No more waiting for his messages.

No more checking whether he was online.

No more wondering whether his silence meant something.

No more allowing one person to occupy so much space in her heart while leaving her uncertain about her place in his.

I'll never speak to you again.

Her throat tightened.

I'll never wait for another call.
I'll never look at your pictures to make myself feel better.
And if I ever see you again, I'll keep walking.

She tried to imagine that future.

A life in which Bilal was no longer part of her daily routine.

A life in which she no longer had to wonder what he meant.

A life in which she could finally stop loving someone who had never given her the answer she needed.

For a few seconds, the imagined silence felt peaceful.

Then the truth caught up with her.

She didn't want that life.

She didn't want to lose him.

She didn't want to pretend that their conversations had meant nothing or that his kindness had never touched her.

The thought of never seeing his face again hurt so much that she pressed her lips together and looked away.

I don't want to block you, Bilal.

Her eyes softened.

I want you to give me a reason not to.

That was the real conflict.

She wanted to protect herself, but she didn't want protection to mean losing someone she loved.

She wanted to be strong enough to walk away, but she desperately hoped she would never have to prove it.

She wanted him to confess, yet she feared what his confession—or his refusal to make one—might reveal.

She wanted clarity more than anything.

But she wanted that clarity to come from him freely.

She didn't want to beg for affection.
She didn't want to persuade someone to choose her.
She didn't want a confession given out of guilt, pressure, or fear of losing her.

She wanted an answer that belonged to him.

An answer she could trust.

Kinza wiped her palms over her face and took a deep breath.

Maybe he is scared too.

The possibility crossed her mind reluctantly.

Perhaps Bilal was struggling with feelings he didn't know how to express.
Perhaps he was waiting because he wanted to approach the subject carefully.
Perhaps his insistence on the right time meant exactly what he said.

She couldn't know.

And she was tired of pretending she could read his mind.

Then speak when you're ready, she thought. But don't expect me to wait forever.

She looked toward her desk.

Her design notebook was still open. Her examination schedule remained pinned beside it, reminding her that two months could pass quickly.

She had work to do.

A future to build.

A life that belonged to her, regardless of what Bilal eventually decided to say.

She stood, gathered her scattered sketches, and returned them to their folder. Then she arranged her books for the next day's work.

Slowly, the room began to look organised again.

Her feelings, however, remained a mess.

She sat down at her desk and opened her project notebook.

At the top of a fresh page, she wrote:

Two months. Focus on myself. No more guessing.

She stared at the words before adding one final line.

After my exams, I need the truth.

Kinza put down her pen.

She still loved him.

She still wanted him to be the one who spoke first.

And she was still terrified that the answer might not be what she hoped.

But she had made herself one promise: she would not remain suspended in uncertainty forever.

If Bilal finally opened his heart, she would listen.

If he told her he needed more time, she would decide whether she could give it.

And if he continued to avoid the truth, she would walk away—even if doing so broke her own heart.

She switched off the desk lamp and settled into bed.

In the darkness, she allowed herself one final thought.

I love you, Bhai. More than you probably realise.

A pause.

But after my exams, it's your turn.

She closed her eyes, holding tightly to both her hope and her resolve.

For now, she would say nothing.

No confession.

No confrontation.

No more hints.

The next move was his.

And for the first time,
Kinza understood that waiting for someone to speak was not the same as waiting for her own life to begin.

 

[Rexd]

Very well written. Loved it!

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

Chapter 73

Another week had passed.

It was an ordinary working day, and everyone was occupied with their usual responsibilities.

Kinza had already left for university. Her schedule had become increasingly demanding as her examinations approached, and most of her days were now divided between lectures, assignments, library sessions, and preparation for her final-year project.

Zaheer was at his office, attending to his work.

Bilal had finished his morning responsibilities and found a little time to call his mother, Kanwal.

He settled comfortably in his room, picked up his phone, and called home.

Kanwal answered after a few rings.

Kanwal: AOA , Bilal! How are you, beta?

Bilal: WS, Mama. I'm fine,. How are you?

Kanwal: I'm fine too. How is your health? Are you eating properly and getting enough sleep? You know how you become when you get busy with your studies.

Bilal smiled.

Bilal: Mama, I'm taking care of myself. I eat properly, and I'm trying to manage my sleep. University is keeping me busy, but everything is fine.

Kanwal: And what about your routine? Are you still going to the gym regularly?

Bilal: Yes, but I'm managing it around my studies. I don't want to neglect my exams.

Kanwal: Good. Your health comes first. Don't become so occupied with work that you forget to look after yourself.

Bilal: I know, Mama. Don't worry. How are you feeling these days? And how is Baba?

Kanwal: We're both fine,. Your father has gone to the office. Everything is normal at home.

Bilal: And AAPI?

Kanwal: She's already gone to university. These days, she hardly has any free time. She comes home, eats something, and returns to her books or assignments. Sometimes she's working on her designs until quite late.

Bilal smiled faintly.

Bilal: Her final-year project is going to keep her busy. She has to manage her examinations and her designs together.

Kanwal: Exactly. She's working hard, and I want her to continue like this. These next few months are important for her.

They spent a little longer discussing everyone's health, daily routine, and the ordinary happenings at home.

Kanwal: Tell me about your studies now. When are your examinations expected to begin?

Bilal glanced at the notes lying on his desk.

Bilal: They're getting close, Mama. According to the current schedule, they may begin in about three weeks. I need to make sure I finish my preparation properly.

Kanwal's expression became attentive.

Kanwal: Then you must concentrate on your studies. Don't leave anything until the last moment. You went there to complete your education, so make sure you get good marks.

Bilal: Yes, Mama. I'm already working according to a schedule. I have university, assignments, revision, and my other responsibilities. I'm trying to complete everything on time.

Kanwal: That's good. We want to see you succeed. You've worked hard to establish yourself there, and your education is very important.

Bilal: I'll do my best.

Kanwal paused before continuing.

Kanwal: Kinza's examinations are also coming up next month. She's already extremely busy. We have to make sure she gets enough time to prepare without putting unnecessary pressure on her.

Bilal: I agree. She has a lot to manage with the final-year project as well. Her designs need time, and she shouldn't have to rush them at the last minute.

Kanwal: Exactly. We keep telling her to work steadily rather than becoming anxious when the examinations get closer.

Bilal: That's the right approach. She should focus on one task at a time.

For a moment, Bilal thought about the conversations he and Kinza had been having recently.

They were both busy, and their conversations had naturally become shorter. Neither complained about it. They understood that their studies needed their attention.

He was glad that Aapi was taking her future seriously.

There would be plenty of time for other matters later.

For now, he needed to complete his own examinations and allow her to do the same.

After discussing their studies, Kanwal remembered something she had wanted to ask for several days

Kanwal: By the way, beta, have you arranged your accommodation? Did you find a suitable apartment to move before Kinza arrived?

Bilal smiled.

This was the update he had been waiting to share with her.

Bilal: Yes, Mama. , I've found one that suits my requirements.

Kanwal immediately sounded pleased.

Kanwal: Really? That's wonderful! Tell me about it.

Bilal: I've finalised the arrangement with the owner. The agreement has been signed, and I've made the agreed advance token payment. The conditions and the expected handover date have been documented.

Kanwal: Very good.

Bilal: The owner has confirmed that the apartment will be handed over to me after four months.

Kanwal paused, taking in the information.

Kanwal: Four months? All right. That's a little later than you had planned, isn't it?

Bilal: Yes, but the apartment is suitable, and at least the arrangements are confirmed. I have enough time now to plan everything properly.

Kanwal: What will you do until then?

Bilal: The agent has offered to arrange a temporary one-room accommodation for me. I'll stay there until the apartment is handed over.

Kanwal: That's a sensible solution. You won't have to rush into another long-term arrangement just because you're waiting for the apartment.

Bilal: Exactly. Once I receive possession, I'll inspect everything and arrange the furniture and other things that are needed. If any modifications are required, I'll get the necessary permissions and organise the work properly.

Kanwal: And you'll make sure everything is ready before Kinza comes?

Bilal: Mama. I have enough time to prepare the apartment so that everything is comfortable and properly organised before she arrives.

Kanwal was delighted.

She had known that Bilal was searching for a suitable place, but hearing that he had finally secured one brought her considerable relief.

Kanwal: I'm very happy to hear that.

Bilal: Thank you.

Kanwal: May everything work out exactly as you hope.

Bilal looked toward the window, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction.

The apartment had been one of the biggest pieces of his plan. Now, although the handover was still months away, he could start organising the remaining steps with greater confidence.

After expressing her happiness, Kanwal became thoughtful.

There was still one important question.

Kanwal: So, beta, when do you think we should tell Kinza about everything?

Bilal knew exactly what she meant.

The apartment was only one part of the arrangement. The larger plan involved Kinza's future education in Germany the documents she would need, her IELTS preparation,
and the eventual admission and visa process and most importantly after that thier relationship.

He didn't want to reveal everything before the family was ready to move forward.

Bilal: Mama, I think we should wait for the right time.

Kanwal: What do you mean by the right time?

Bilal: First, let her finish her examinations and final-year project without unnecessary pressure. My own exams are coming up in about three weeks, and hers are next month. Once we're both through the most demanding part of our schedules, we can sit down and discuss everything properly.

Kanwal: That makes sense. We shouldn't distract her while she's preparing for her examinations.

Bilal: Exactly. When you and Baba are ready, we can explain the plan, discuss the documents, and tell her what she needs to do next.

Kanwal: And then we'll help her prepare for IELTS and work through the admission requirements?

Bilal: Yes. We can go through everything step by step. First, we need to make sure her academic documents are ready. Then we can look at the IELTS requirement, suitable programmes, applications, and the visa process.

Kanwal: Very good. We should make sure she understands the whole process instead of giving her too much information all at once.

Bilal: That's what I think too. We don't need to rush. We just need to be prepared.

Kanwal agreed.

She trusted Bilal's judgement about the practical arrangements, but she also wanted Kinza to have a proper opportunity to understand the plan and participate in the decisions affecting her future.

But Kanwal don't know the evil planing of his Devil Son Bilal.

It was an important step for their family.

And it deserved to be handled carefully.

After a brief pause, Kanwal remembered another matter.

Kanwal: There's something else I wanted to tell you. A wedding is coming up in our family.

Bilal: Oh, really? When is it?

Kanwal explained the expected dates and the family's plan to attend.

Bilal listened, then asked a practical question.

Bilal: Will Aapi be able to come with you and Baba?

Kanwal shook her head, even though he couldn't see her clearly through the phone.

Kanwal: Unfortunately, the wedding falls around her last examination day. She may not be able to join us.

Bilal considered that.

Bilal: When are you planning to leave?

Kanwal: We'll have to arrange the travel according to the wedding schedule. Your father and I will attend, and we expect to be away for about a week.

Bilal: So Kinza will be at home by herself during that time?

Kanwal: Yes, most likely. We discussed arranging private transport through someone we know, so she could travel with a trusted person if she wanted to join us. But she isn't interested in travelling around her examinations.

Kanwal sounded understanding rather than disappointed.

Kanwal: She says she'll be tired after her last exam and would rather stay home, rest, and recover from all the studying.

Bilal: Honestly, that sounds reasonable. She'll have spent weeks preparing for the examinations. If she wants to rest afterwards, she should be allowed to do that.

Kanwal: That's what we think too. We don't want to force her to travel immediately after her exams.

Bilal: And you'll only be away for a week?

Kanwal: Yes. We'll attend the wedding and return home. We'll make sure everything is arranged before we leave, and we'll keep in touch with her while we're away.

Bilal nodded thoughtfully.

He was glad that his mother was considering Kinza's comfort rather than treating attendance at the wedding as an obligation.

After months of academic pressure, a few quiet days at home might be exactly what she needed.

Bilal: That's fine, Mama. Let her finish her exams and rest. There will be other family occasions.

Kanwal: Exactly. Once we return, we'll sit down with her and discuss the next steps for Germany, as you suggested.

Bilal: Yes. When you come back, you and Baba can talk to her about the plan, her IELTS preparation, and the documents she'll need. Then we can decide how to proceed.

Kanwal:.We'll take everything one step at a time.

Bilal: Perfect.

Their conversation continued for a little while longer.

Kanwal reminded Bilal to take care of his health, stay focused on his examinations, and keep her informed about the apartment arrangements.

Bilal promised that he would.

Before ending the call, he asked his mother once more to pass his regards to Zaheer when he returned from the office.

Bilal: Give Baba my salaam when he comes home. And tell Aapi to take care of herself and not overwork.

Kanwal:.I will. You take care of yourself too, beta.

Bilal: I will, Mama. Good bye.

The call ended.

Bilal remained seated for a moment, looking at his phone.

One by one, the practical pieces of his plan were coming together.

There was still a great deal to do.

He had his own exams in three weeks.

Kinza had hers the following month.

But the plan no longer felt like an idea that existed only in his imagination.

It was becoming a series of real steps.

He opened his calendar and reviewed his upcoming deadlines.

Then he returned to his studies.

For now, he would keep working quietly.

Kinza had her own future to prepare for, and she deserved the chance to concentrate on it without being overwhelmed by information about plans that were not yet ready to move forward and live happily in a Relationship with Bilal in privacy far away from home, from relatives, from friends & from country, where no one knows Kinza and she will get complete privacy with Bilal and comfort .

The next few months would be busy.

But for the first time, he could see how the pieces might fit together.

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

Very well written. Loved it!

Thanks

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

Chapter 74

Next day, Bilal finished his university classes and started making his way home.

It had been a fairly ordinary day. He had attended his lectures, discussed a project with a classmate, and spent some time reviewing the notes he would need for his upcoming examinations.

He was tired and looking forward to getting home.

As he walked, he reached for one of his AirPods and tried to listen to something on his phone.

The sound crackled.

He adjusted the connection and tried again.

Nothing.

He disconnected the AirPods, reconnected them, and checked the settings on his phone. For a moment, the sound returned, only to break up again a few seconds later.

Bilal frowned.

"Seriously? Now?"

He tried one more time before giving up.

The AirPods had been useful during his walks, workouts, and study sessions, so he wanted to find out whether they could be repaired. If not, he would simply buy a replacement.

Rather than going straight home, he decided to stop at a nearby electronics and mobile accessories store.

It was a shop with phones, wireless earbuds, chargers, smartwatches, camera equipment, and several accessories arranged in glass display cabinets.

Bilal walked inside and approached the counter.

A sales assistant greeted him and asked what he needed.

Bilal explained the problem, took out his AirPods, and demonstrated the connection issue.

The assistant checked them, tried reconnecting them to a demonstration phone, and examined the settings.

After a few minutes, he explained that the problem might require further testing. He showed Bilal a few replacement options and the latest models available.

Bilal compared the features, battery life, noise cancellation, and prices.

He wanted something reliable rather than simply choosing the most expensive model.

Eventually, he selected two new pairs.

One would be for himself, and the other would be for Kinza.

He had no particular occasion in mind. He simply knew that she used her phone frequently and he thought a good pair of wireless earbuds would be useful.

The assistant began preparing the purchase.

While waiting, Bilal glanced around the store.

A display near the camera accessories caught his attention.

Several tripods and mobile stands were arranged on a long shelf. Some were simple desk stands, others were designed for filming, and a few were built for vloggers who recorded themselves without assistance.

Then he noticed something different.

A compact tripod stood on a demonstration table with a smartphone mounted on top.

Unlike an ordinary tripod, its head could rotate smoothly in several directions.

Bilal stopped walking.

"What's this?"

The sales assistant noticed his interest and came over.

"That's one of our newer models, sir. It's designed for people who record videos by themselves."

Bilal moved closer.

"How does it work?"

The assistant smiled.

"Let me demonstrate."

The assistant placed a smartphone in the holder and opened the tripod's companion application.

He explained that the device used visual tracking to follow a selected person or subject within the camera's view.

First, the phone had to be mounted securely.

Then the user opened the application, connected it to the tripod, and selected the tracking mode. Depending on the model, the software could identify a person and follow their movements while the motorised head turned to keep them in the frame.

The assistant selected himself as the subject.

He stepped to the left.

The tripod rotated.

He stepped to the right.

It followed him again.

He moved a little farther away, and the phone adjusted its framing to keep him visible.

Bilal raised his eyebrows.

"Wait. It does that automatically?"

"Yes, sir. Once you've set it up correctly, it can follow your movements without another person operating the camera."

The assistant demonstrated a few more movements.

He walked slowly across the display area, turned around, and returned toward the counter. The tripod smoothly followed him.

It looked almost as though an invisible cameraman were operating the phone.

The assistant explained that certain models also supported automatic framing adjustments and gesture controls. Some features depended on the phone, the application, and the specific tripod model.

Bilal listened carefully.

He could immediately see why vloggers and content creators would find the device useful.

The user could place the phone at a suitable distance, select the tracking subject, and move around the exercise area while the camera followed.

No cameraman required.

Bilal smiled.

"That's actually clever."

The assistant nodded.

"That's the idea, sir. A personal robotic cameraman."

Bilal looked at the tripod again.

A thought had already begun forming in his mind.

Bilal imagined Kinza using the device.

She could also use it for video calls or personal recordings without constantly repositioning her phone.

Bilal knew that Kinza sometimes used a tripod to take photographs. He had seen how carefully she arranged her phone, checked the framing, and adjusted her position.

This new device could make that process much easier.

He imagined her setting it up in her room, opening the application, and discovering that the camera could follow her as she moved around.

He could almost hear her reaction.

His smile widened.

He had found something genuinely useful—something more interesting than another ordinary accessory.

"Can I see the different models?" he asked.

The assistant showed him the available options, explaining the differences in tracking capability, rotation, compatibility, battery arrangements, and supported features.

Bilal compared them carefully.

He wanted a model that was stable, easy to operate, compatible with Kinza's phone, and capable of tracking a person smoothly across a reasonable range of movement.

He also checked the return and warranty terms.

After asking a few more questions, he selected the model he considered most suitable.

Then he looked at the assistant.

"I'll take this one as well."

The assistant prepared the tripod for purchase and explained what was included in the box.

There was the motorised tripod, the phone holder, the charging accessories, and the information needed to download and set up the companion application.

Bilal asked the assistant to confirm the application compatibility and show him the basic setup process.

He wanted to make sure Kinza would be able to use it without needing complicated equipment or additional purchases.

Once satisfied, he completed the payment.

His purchases were now arranged:

- One new pair of AirPods for himself.
- One new pair of AirPods for Kinza.
- One AI auto-tracking smart tripod for Kinza.

He checked the receipts and carefully placed the packages into a shopping bag.

For a moment, he considered telling Kinza what he had bought.

He could have sent her a photograph of the box or given her a small hint.

But then he smiled to himself.

"No. Not this time."

He had spent enough time listening to her questions about previous surprises. He knew that if he revealed even a small detail, she would immediately want to know everything.

And he wasn't ready to give away this one.

He would let the package speak for itself.

After returning home, Bilal checked the tripod's packaging and ensured that all the accessories were included.

He kept his own AirPods separate and prepared the other items for delivery to Karachi.

The tripod needed to reach Kinza safely, so he arranged suitable protective packaging and made sure the original box was secure.

He included the new AirPods intended for her in the same shipment.

Then he arranged the courier through a service that could deliver the package to her home address.

He provided the necessary delivery details and confirmed the shipment.

The courier staff checked the parcel, recorded the consignment information, and accepted it for dispatch.

Bilal kept the tracking details.

Everything was arranged.

Kinza would receive a package containing two items she hadn't asked for and had no idea were coming.

And unlike the earlier clothing collection, there would be no advance warning from Bilal.

He hadn't sent her a video from the store.

He hadn't asked her opinion.

He hadn't given her a clue.

This time, the surprise would arrive without any preparation.

Bilal looked at the courier confirmation and smiled.

"Let's see how long it takes you to work this one out, Aapi."

Still, he felt pleased with the purchase.

The tripod wasn't simply another gift. It was a practical piece of technology that could help.

He hoped she would enjoy discovering what it could do.

Later, he checked his phone.

Thousands of kilometres away, Kinza continued with her university routine.

She attended her classes, worked on her assignments, and spent part of the evening developing ideas for her final-year project.

Her schedule was getting busier with every passing day.

She had no idea that Bilal had stopped at an electronics store after university.

She didn't know about the new AirPods.

And she certainly didn't know that a small robotic cameraman was travelling toward her home.

The courier shipment was now on its way.

Soon, Kinza would have another package to open, another surprise to investigate, and another reason to wonder what Bilal had been planning.

Bilal, meanwhile, returned to his studies with a satisfied smile.

He had bought something useful, arranged its delivery, and managed to keep the entire thing secret.

For once, Kinza wouldn't have a series of shopping videos to analyse beforehand.

She would simply have to wait for the doorbell.

And when the package finally arrived, the question would be the same as always:

Bilal… what have you done this time?

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

Chapter 75

Another week passed.

Bilal’s parcel finally arrived at home.
That afternoon, Kanwal received it while Kinza was still at university.

As soon as she noticed the name written on the package, she recognised the sender.

“Bilal has sent something for Kinza,” she thought.

Being mindful of family manners and personal boundaries, Kanwal did not open the parcel or even try to guess what was inside. She placed it safely aside, intending to hand it over to Kinza herself.

Later that afternoon, Kinza returned home, tired from her university routine and carrying her usual collection of books and project materials.

Kanwal called her.

“Kinza, come here for a moment. A parcel has arrived for you.”

Kinza walked over and saw the package.

“For me?”

“Yes. Bilal sent it.”

Her expression changed immediately. Curiosity appeared on her face as she read the sender’s details.

Bilal had not mentioned anything about another delivery.

What has he sent this time? she wondered.

She looked at the package, then at her mother.

“Mama, I’ll tell you about it later, okay? Let me put it in my room first.”

Kanwal smiled at her daughter's reaction.

“All right. Keep it safely. You can open it whenever you like.”

Kinza carried the parcel to her room and placed it on her desk. For a few moments, she simply stared at it.

She had learned something about Bilal by now: whenever he sent an unexpected package, there was usually a reason behind it. Sometimes it was something practical, sometimes something thoughtful, and sometimes it was a surprise he had deliberately kept secret.

And this time, he had not even given her a hint.

She changed her clothes, washed up, and joined the family for lunch. Throughout the meal, a small part of her attention remained fixed on the unopened parcel upstairs.

After lunch, she excused herself and returned to her room.

“Now, Bhai,” she murmured, reaching for the scissors, “let’s see what you’ve done"

Kinza carefully opened the box.

Inside, she found two items neatly packed.

The first was a new pair of AirPods.

The second was the robotic tracking tripod Bilal had discovered at the electronics store.

For a moment, she simply looked at them.

“AirPods? And a tripod?”

She lifted the tripod from its packaging and examined its rotating head, phone holder, and controls. It looked more advanced than an ordinary mobile stand. This was the device Bilal had described through the product information he had apparently checked before buying it.

The idea was fascinating: place a compatible phone on the stand, connect it to the companion application, and select the person the camera should follow. Depending on the model and its features, the device could automatically rotate and reframe the shot as the person moved.

A camera operator was no longer necessary for many simple recordings.

But one question bothered her.

Why hadn't Bhai told her he was sending it?

She picked up the AirPods case, checked the contents, and then arranged both gifts on her desk. After taking a photograph, she sent it to Bilal.

Her message followed almost immediately.

Kinza: “What is this now? You didn't tell me you were sending these!”

She waited, looking at her screen.

A few minutes later, Bilal's reply arrived—not as a text message, but as a voice note.

Kinza tapped the voice note.

Bilal sounded occupied, as though he had recorded it while moving between tasks.

“Aapi, I'm a little busy right now. You can easily find tutorials for the tripod on YouTube. Just check the model, download its application, follow the setup instructions, and you'll learn how to use it.”

There was a brief pause before he continued.

“It's pretty straightforward once you get it connected. And don't worry if you can't figure it out immediately. You can try it later when you have some free time.”

His voice softened slightly.

“I'll talk to you about it properly later, okay? I've got some work to finish now. We'll continue our conversation afterward.”

Then came his familiar closing.

“Take care. Bye.”

The voice note ended.

Kinza replayed the last few seconds, half amused and half disappointed.

“That’s it?” she whispered. “You send me a mysterious parcel, and then you disappear?”

She looked at the tripod again.

Bilal had not explained why he had bought it for her. He had not asked whether she liked it. He had not even given her the usual detailed explanation of every feature he had researched.

He had simply sent it and left her to discover it.

She opened the product packaging and found the model information. Then she searched for the official application and a setup tutorial.

Within minutes, she was reading the instructions.

Her curiosity gradually turned into excitement.

She set the tripod aside carefully and placed the AirPods beside it.

“Fine, Bhai,” she said to herself. “I'll learn how to use it.”

Then she smiled faintly.

“But you're going to explain why you bought it for me.”

She did not send another message. If he was genuinely busy, she would let him finish his work.

Still, she could not shake the feeling that the tripod was part of a bigger plan.

And she had no idea how much Bilal was already preparing behind the scenes.

Meanwhile, Bilal's own schedule was becoming increasingly crowded.

His examinations were approaching, his university work demanded attention, and his preparations were also beginning to take shape.

He had several things to organise before the following week.
Between his studies, daily responsibilities, and personal plans, he needed to make careful use of his limited time.

Yet one particular project occupied a separate place in his mind.

It was something he wanted to prepare properly—not through a rushed recording or a few photographs taken on his phone, but through a professionally planned production.

After finishing some university work, Bilal travelled to a creative studio and production agency that offered photography, videography, direction, and promotional video services.

He had already considered the kind of result he wanted. Now he needed to find out whether the agency could turn his idea into something realist.

The agency's office was busy but organised. Staff members were reviewing schedules, editing footage, and discussing upcoming projects.

Bilal introduced himself at reception and explained that he wanted to speak with someone about a planned video production.

After a short wait, he was taken to meet the director.

The director greeted him, offered him a seat, and asked him to explain his requirements.

Bilal described the general concept, the style he had in mind, and the standard he expected from the final result. He wanted the production to look polished and professional, with careful attention to framing, lighting, transitions, music, and the overall presentation.

He also explained that he did not want the project rushed. The planning needed to be done properly before filming began.

The director listened attentively, asking questions about the intended length, visual style, locations, and the kind of material Bilal could provide.

After hearing the outline, the director nodded.

“That sounds manageable. We can work on this. We'll prepare a detailed proposal covering the concept, production approach, schedule, and estimated cost. We may need about a week to put everything together properly.”

Bilal considered the timeline.

“That’s absolutely fine. Next week, I'll be occupied with my examinations and other commitments. I should be available again after ten to twelve days, so you can begin the actual work then.”

The director made a note.

“Understood. We'll send you our recommendations and a few suitable options. You can review them, choose the direction you prefer, and then we'll finalise the arrangements.”

“Perfect,” Bilal replied. “Send me the proposal with the details and suggestions. I'll review everything and confirm which option works best. Once we've finalised the scope and budget, I'll make the advance payment. There shouldn't be any problem with that.”

The director assured him that the team would prepare the material and send it across for his approval.

Bilal thanked him for his time, exchanged the necessary contact details, and left the office.

Outside, Bilal paused beside the road and checked his phone.

There were university notifications, reminders about his examinations, and a few messages he still needed to answer.

He opened Kinza's conversation for a moment.

Her photograph of the tripod was still there.

He smiled when he remembered her likely reaction: the surprise, the questions, and the inevitable demand to explain why he had sent something without telling her.

The following week would be busy, and the days after that would be even more important.

Kinza believed the tripod was simply another thoughtful gift from a Bhai who liked surprising her.

She did not yet know that Bilal had begun arranging something much bigger—something that would require planning, patience, and the right moment.

And this time, he intended to make sure every detail was ready before she discovered what he had been preparing.

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

Chapter 76

The next two weeks passed in a blur of examinations, deadlines, and preparations.

For Bilal, every day seemed divided into three parts: university, trading, and the plans he was quietly arranging behind the scenes. His examination schedule demanded his attention, while the production agency was preparing the proposal he had requested.

Kinza, meanwhile,Kinza final examinations were approaching, and her fashion-design project still required attention. Although the parcel from Bilal had given her something new to explore, she had little time to experiment with the robotic tripod.

Bilal and Kinza continued checking on each other, but neither had much time for lengthy conversations.

The subject they had agreed to postpone remained untouched.

Kinza had not forgotten her private promise to herself, and Bilal had not forgotten what he had told her.

But for now, both had something important to finish.

And finally, the day arrived.

Bilal arrived at the university earlier than usual.

The campus was filled with students revising notes, discussing likely questions, and nervously checking their examination schedules. Some were confident; others looked as though they had barely slept.

Bilal found a quiet place and reviewed his notes one last time.

His phone vibrated.

A message from Kinza appeared on the screen.

Kinza: “Final paper today, right? Do your best. And don't come out later saying the questions were unfair. ”

Bilal smiled.

Bilal: “Yes, final paper. I'll try to survive it first. Then we can discuss whether the examiner was fair.”

Kinza: “Good luck Bhai! And remember, no excuses.”

Bilal: “Thank you. Now you concentrate on your own preparation too.”

He put his phone away and entered the examination hall.

For the next few hours, everything else disappeared. There was only the paper, the questions, and the time remaining.

When he finally finished, he reviewed his answers, submitted his paper, and walked out of the hall.

For a moment, he stood outside and breathed deeply.

It was done.

His university examinations were finally behind him.

He checked the time and smiled to himself.

“One thing finished,” he murmured. “Now I can focus on the next stage.”

He had several plans waiting for him, but an unexpected opportunity was about to change the course of his day.

Later that day, Bilal received a message from a professional friend who had experience in the financial markets.

They had discussed trading on previous occasions, and Bilal respected his friend's market knowledge. This time, the friend shared an observation about a potential trading opportunity.

Bilal did not immediately jump into the market.

He reviewed the information, examined the relevant charts, considered the risks, and checked whether the opportunity fitted his trading strategy.

The market was moving quickly.

After completing his assessment, Bilal decided to take a position with a carefully considered level of risk management.

For a while, the trade moved unpredictably. The numbers fluctuated, and he watched closely without allowing excitement to replace his judgment.

Then the market moved decisively in his favour.

His position began generating a substantial profit.

Bilal checked the figures again, verified the result, and waited until his exit conditions were met. Once he closed the trade, he sat back in his chair.

The profit was far greater than he had expected from an ordinary trading day.

He was delighted, but he knew better than to confuse one successful trade with guaranteed future success. Markets could be unpredictable, and a profitable outcome did not mean every future opportunity would be the same.

Still, this particular result gave him more financial flexibility than he had anticipated.

He sent a brief message to his friend, thanking him for sharing the insight.

Then he looked at his account balance again.

A thought that had been sitting at the back of his mind for months suddenly felt much more achievable.

Not just any car. He had been thinking about buying one once his finances and practical arrangements allowed it.

Now, with his examinations finished and the additional profit available, he decided to investigate the possibility seriously.

He opened a search on his phone and began looking at cars.

One particular name kept drawing his attention.

Before making any purchase, Bilal needed to settle another important matter.

His driving licence application was already in process, and he had been waiting for the final stage to be completed.

He checked the relevant documents, confirmed the status of his application, and made his way to the licensing office.

The office was busy, with people waiting for document verification, collection, and other formalities. Bilal took his place in the queue and waited for his turn.

When his name was called, he presented the required documents.

The official checked the records, confirmed the details, and completed the necessary procedure.

Finally, Bilal received his driving licence.

He examined the card, checked that his details were correct, and placed it carefully in his wallet.

It was a small piece of plastic, but to him it represented something meaningful: another step towards independence.

He had spent the past few years building his education, developing his professional skills, learning to manage his finances, and taking responsibility for his future.

Now, he had completed his examinations and obtained his driving licence.

He walked out of the office with a sense of satisfaction.

“Good,” he said to himself. “One more thing sorted.”

He checked the time.

There was still enough of the afternoon left to visit the showroom.

And he had already decided where he wanted to go.

The Mercedes-Benz showroom was modern, spacious, and meticulously arranged.

Cars stood beneath the showroom lights, their polished bodies reflecting the clean lines of the building. A few customers were speaking with sales representatives, while others walked around the vehicles, examining interiors and comparing specifications.

Bilal entered and was greeted by a sales consultant.

“Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Mercedes-Benz. Are you looking for a particular model?”

“Yes,” Bilal replied. “I'm interested in a two-door model. I'd like to see the available options.”

The consultant asked about his preferences, budget, intended use, and delivery expectations. Bilal explained that he wanted something stylish and well-equipped, with a premium interior and a design that stood out without looking excessive.

The consultant showed him the available two-door options and discussed the differences between the models, including engine choices, technology, comfort features, and delivery schedules.

Bilal took his time.

He walked around the cars, examined their bodywork, and sat inside one of the models. He looked at the dashboard, the seats, the infotainment system, and the driving position.

The car had the appearance he wanted: elegant and premium.

He could already imagine driving it through the streets of Germany once his arrangements were complete.

But he did not make the decision based on appearance alone. He asked about the final price, the exact specification, warranty coverage, registration, insurance requirements, and the terms of the booking.

The consultant answered his questions and checked the availability of the model he preferred.

There would be a short wait for delivery.

Bilal considered the details once more.

Then he made his decision.

“I'd like to book this model.”

The consultant smiled and began preparing the booking documents.

The formalities took some time.

Bilal reviewed the order carefully, confirmed the selected configuration, and checked the expected delivery window. Once he was satisfied with the details, he completed the required booking process and payment arrangements.

The consultant confirmed that the car was expected to be delivered within approximately two weeks, subject to the dealership's final delivery schedule.

“Congratulations, sir,” the consultant said. “We'll keep you updated as the delivery date approaches.”

Bilal shook his hand.

“Thank you. Please send me the confirmation and all the relevant details.”

When he finally stepped outside the showroom, he checked his phone.

He had an examination-free calendar ahead of him, a newly obtained driving licence, and a Mercedes booking confirmation waiting in his messages.

He stood beside the pavement for a moment, taking it all in.

Only a few hours earlier, he had been sitting in an examination hall, concentrating on his final paper. Now, he had taken a significant step towards buying his first Mercedes.

The successful trade had provided the financial opportunity, but the decision had been his own. He knew that future trading results could never be taken for granted, so he intended to keep his finances organised rather than let one profitable day dictate every decision.

Still, he could not deny that he was excited.

He opened the booking confirmation once more and smiled.

“Two weeks,” he murmured.

Then another thought crossed his mind.

Kinza still knew nothing about most of the plans he had been making.

She knew about the tripod. She knew about the gifts. She knew he was busy with university and other responsibilities.

But she did not know about the production agency, the preparations he had started, or the new car he had just booked.

Bilal put his phone away and began walking home.

For the first time in weeks, he had some breathing room.

His examinations were finished. His licence was in his wallet. His new car was on order.

And the next chapter of his plans was getting closer.

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

Chapter 77

Bilal’s semester examinations were finally over.

For the first time in weeks, he could wake up without immediately thinking about an exam schedule, unfinished assignments, or the next paper he needed to prepare for.

But his free time would not last forever.

Kinza’s final examinations were due to begin in approximately two weeks, and Bilal had already decided what he wanted to do when she finished.

He wanted to give her something personal.

Not another parcel. Not another pair of shoes or a piece of jewellery. Not something she could put on a shelf and forget about.

He wanted to create something that would make her stop, watch, and see him differently.

A professionally produced video.

The idea had started as a simple thought, but the more he considered it, the more carefully he wanted to plan it. He imagined a sequence of well-composed shots, stylish clothing, controlled lighting, cinematic camera movements, and a soundtrack that would bring everything together.

It would show his personality, his confidence, his fitness progress, and the effort he had invested in himself.

And, most importantly, he wanted Kinza to enjoy watching it.

I don't need to tell her what I'm planning, he thought. When her exams are over, I'll send it to her myself.

He imagined her opening the video, initially wondering what it was, then gradually becoming absorbed in the production.

He smiled.

“Let's see what you say after watching this, Aapi.”

The plan was not intended to replace the conversation they had postponed. Bilal knew that a video could not speak the words he still needed to say.

But it could be a gift, a little celebration after the pressure of her examinations, and a way of showing her what he had been working towards.

For now, he wanted to get every detail right.

That afternoon, Bilal contacted the production agency he had visited before his final examinations.

The director had prepared the initial proposal, including a few concepts for the video, possible shooting locations, lighting arrangements, editing styles, and estimated costs.

Bilal reviewed the material carefully.

One proposal focused on a cinematic introduction, with Bilal entering the frame in smart casual clothing. Another emphasised athletic movement, gym footage, and close-up shots. A third combined fitness sequences with a more sophisticated fashion-editorial style.

He liked elements from all three.

After discussing the options with the director, they agreed that the final video could combine them into one coherent production.

The opening would be clean and understated. The middle section would highlight his athletic training and physical progress. The closing sequence would bring everything together with polished styling, confident movement, and a memorable final shot.

Bilal wanted the result to look professional rather than boastful.

He did not want exaggerated effects or unnecessary displays of wealth. The quality of the camera work, the composition, and the effort behind the preparation would make the difference.

The director explained that the gym footage should be captured across multiple sessions rather than rushed into a single afternoon.

That suited Bilal perfectly.

“I have some time before the final shoot,” Bilal explained. “I want to use it properly. We can record the gym sequences on different days and then schedule the main shoot once everything is ready.”

The director agreed.

“That's the better approach. It will give us more flexibility with lighting, camera angles, and continuity. We can also review the footage as we go.”

Bilal approved the general plan.

They would finalise the schedule and the specific shots after confirming the gym arrangements and his availability.

When the meeting ended, Bilal left with a clear idea of what he needed to do next.

The production team would handle the technical side.

His responsibility was to prepare himself.

Later that evening, Bilal went to the gym.

He had continued training during his examination period, but his sessions had been shorter and his schedule less consistent. Now, with his papers finished, he could return to a more structured routine.

His trainer greeted him as he entered.

“Finally finished with the exams?”

“Finally,” Bilal replied. “Now I can concentrate properly.”

“Good. So what are we working towards?”

Bilal explained his plan for the upcoming video shoot.

He wanted to improve his overall physique and athletic appearance. His shoulders needed more definition, his back needed to look broader, and he wanted stronger-looking arms and legs. He also wanted his midsection to become more defined, with visible abdominal muscles if his body composition and progress allowed it.

In short, he wanted to look like a well-conditioned fitness model—not merely someone who lifted weights occasionally.

His trainer listened and nodded.

“That's achievable as a direction, but we'll work with your current condition. We aren't going to promise a complete transformation in two weeks. A strong, athletic physique takes time, and visible abs depend on your starting point, body composition, nutrition, genetics, and consistency.”

Bilal understood.

He was ambitious, but he did not want to injure himself chasing an unrealistic deadline.

“Fine,” he said. “I want the best progress I can make safely. Let's build the programme properly.”

His trainer began assessing his current training routine, recovery, and goals. Together, they outlined a structured plan focusing on strength, balanced muscle development, conditioning, and recovery.

They would review his progress regularly and adjust the workload depending on how he responded.

For Bilal, this was more than preparing for a camera.

It was a chance to return to training with a clear purpose.

Over the following days, Bilal followed the programme his trainer had designed.

His workouts were organised around different muscle groups and movement patterns, with adequate recovery between demanding sessions.

He worked on his shoulders and back to develop a stronger upper-body silhouette. Chest training helped build overall muscular balance, while arm exercises complemented his other lifts. His leg sessions remained an important part of the routine rather than something he could neglect for the sake of upper-body appearance.

Core training was included to improve strength and stability, alongside conditioning work appropriate to his fitness level.

His trainer paid attention to technique, gradually adjusting weights and repetitions as Bilal became more comfortable with the programme.

“Don't chase the mirror every day,” the trainer reminded him. “Track your progress properly. Good form, consistent training, food, sleep, and recovery. Those are the things that matter.”

Bilal took the advice seriously.

He improved his meals, paid attention to protein and overall nutrition, drank enough water, and made sure he was sleeping properly. He avoided extreme dieting and understood that looking athletic on camera depended on more than trying to become as lean as possible.

Some days, the progress felt obvious. His muscles looked fuller after training, his posture improved, and his movements became more controlled.

Other days, the changes seemed almost invisible.

But he continued.

Whenever he felt tempted to rush, he reminded himself that the shoot would be stronger if he arrived rested, confident, and healthy rather than exhausted from trying to force a transformation.

His trainer also introduced small posing and movement exercises that would help him look natural on camera.

Bilal practised standing with better posture, turning towards the lens without awkward movements, and keeping his shoulders relaxed. He learned how to move between positions without looking as though he was deliberately trying to impress the camera.

At first, he found the practice strangely uncomfortable.

“I can lift weights,” he complained one evening, “but standing still and looking natural is somehow harder.”

His trainer laughed.

“That's because you're thinking about every movement. Relax. The camera should capture you, not your anxiety about the camera.”

Bilal laughed too.

It was a useful lesson.

He didn't need to imitate another person. He simply needed to present himself at his best.

A few days later, the production team arranged a preliminary session to test the visual style and camera setup.

It was not the final shoot.

The purpose was to check the lighting, camera movement, framing, and how Bilal appeared on screen. The director wanted to identify any adjustments before recording the main sequences.

Bilal arrived wearing fitted athletic clothing that allowed movement without distracting from the shots.

The crew set up the cameras and adjusted the lights.

For the first sequence, Bilal walked into the frame, paused briefly, and turned towards the camera. The director asked him to repeat the movement several times, changing his pace and the angle of his shoulders.

Next came a few controlled gym shots: preparing his equipment, adjusting the weights, beginning an exercise, and completing a set under his trainer's supervision.

The crew captured the movements from different angles, making sure that the footage looked athletic without compromising his technique or safety.

They also recorded a few close-up details—his hands adjusting a wrist strap, his shoes touching the gym floor, and his focused expression before a set.

The director reviewed the footage on a monitor.

“This is a good starting point,” he told Bilal. “The idea is working. We'll need to keep the movement natural and avoid making every shot look staged.”

Bilal watched the playback.

He noticed things he had not considered before: the way his posture changed between shots, how lighting affected the definition of his muscles, and how a simple movement could look dramatically different from another angle.

He was pleased with the result, but he could also see room for improvement.

“Let's continue the training first,” he said. “We'll record more footage over the next several sessions and then decide which shots belong in the final edit.”

The director agreed.

The test session had given them a foundation.

Now Bilal had something concrete to work towards.

That night, Bilal returned home tired but satisfied.

After showering and eating, he sat down to review the day's schedule. His phone was beside him, and Kinza's conversation remained near the top of his messages.

He opened it.

Her last message concerned her examination preparation. She had been busy with revision and final arrangements for her papers.

Bilal typed a short message asking how her preparation was going and reminding her not to neglect sleep.

Then he paused.

For a moment, he considered telling her about the video.

He could easily send her a photograph from the test session or mention that he had started a new project. She would probably ask questions, and he would have to invent some explanation for why he was keeping the details secret.

But he decided against it.

No. Not yet.

He wanted the surprise to remain a surprise.

The video was meant to be a gift after her final examination—not another distraction while she was trying to concentrate.

He placed his phone aside and opened his training notes.

There were still more sessions to complete, outfits to choose, and details to confirm with the director. His body would need time to respond to the training, and the crew would need enough footage to build a polished final edit.

He knew that a sharply defined six-pack could not be guaranteed on a particular date. But he could improve his strength, posture, confidence, and overall presentation through consistent work.

That was enough to begin.

He looked at the preliminary footage once more before closing his laptop.

Kinza had no idea what he was preparing.

She was still counting down the days until her examinations, expecting that life would become a little quieter once they were over.

Bilal, however, was using those same days to prepare a surprise he hoped she would remember.

He wasn't making the video for an audience of thousands.

He wasn't trying to impress strangers online.

He had one particular person in mind.

And when Kinza finally finished her examinations, he intended to send her the completed video with a simple message:

“Your exams are over. Now it's your turn to watch something I've been working on.”

For now, the secret remained his.

The gym sessions would continue, the production would develop, and the final shoot would come closer one day at a time.

The real surprise was still ahead—and Bilal was determined to be ready when the moment arrived.

 

[Sameer Kapoor]

Chapter 78

1 month passed quickly.

Kinza's examinations had finally begun, and her days were filled with revision, university visits, examination papers, and the pressure of completing her final academic requirements. She had little time for anything beyond her studies.

Bilal, meanwhile, was busy with an entirely different kind of preparation.

His examinations were finished, his training routine was becoming more consistent, and the production agency was working on the final version of his video. The gym footage had been recorded across several sessions, and the director was now bringing the best shots together with the music, transitions, and final colour adjustments.

There were still a few details to approve, but the video was almost ready.

And there was another piece of news.

Bilal had received his new Mercedes.

The delivery had been completed, and he had taken care of the necessary formalities. Seeing the car in person was even more satisfying than looking at the photographs in the showroom. He spent some time checking the vehicle, familiarising himself with its features, and making sure everything was in order.

But despite the excitement of the new car, his attention kept returning to the video.

Kinza's final examination was approaching.

He had promised himself that he would not distract her before she finished. Once she walked out of that examination hall for the last time, however, things would be different.

She had been waiting for an answer from him.

And he had been preparing something that would make their next conversation rather interesting.

The night before Kinza's final examination, her father, Zaheer, had a few important matters to settle.

He and Kanwal were preparing to travel out of the city for approximately a week. Their arrangements had already been made, and their departure was scheduled for the following morning.

Since Kinza would remain at home, Zaheer decided to speak directly with the society's security in-charge.

The neighbourhood had a proper security system, with guards monitoring the entrances and patrolling the residential streets. Still, Zaheer wanted to make sure the guards were aware that his daughter would be staying at home while both parents were away.

He met the security in-charge and explained the situation.

“We'll be travelling out of the city for about a week,” Zaheer told him. “My daughter will remain at home. Please keep an extra eye on our house and make sure the usual security arrangements are followed.”

The security in-charge listened attentively.

“Sir, don't worry. As long as she is inside the society, we'll keep an eye on the situation. If there's any unusual activity near your house, the guards will respond.”

He then added a practical clarification.

“Of course, if she leaves the society and travels somewhere independently, that part will be outside our direct supervision. But while she's here, you can rely on our security arrangements.”

Zaheer nodded.

“That's understood. She won't be going out during this week. If she needs groceries, food, or anything else, she can order it for delivery. She already has the contact numbers for the nearby shops and restaurants.”

The security in-charge reassured him once more.

“Understood, sir. We'll remain attentive.”

With that, Zaheer returned home, satisfied that he had communicated everything clearly.

He knew Kinza was responsible, but he also understood that a little extra preparation could prevent unnecessary problems while the family was away.

The next morning began early.

Kanwal and Zaeer were preparing to leave for the airport, while Kinza was getting ready for her final examination.

She checked her bag twice, making sure she had her identification, stationery, and everything required for the paper. Her mind was already focused on the examination hall.

Before leaving, she joined her parents for a brief moment.

Kanwal placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Don't panic when you see the paper. Read every question carefully and do your best.”

Zahir offered his own words of encouragement.

“Today is your final paper. You've worked hard to reach this point. Go in confidently, complete your work properly, and don't rush just because other students finish early.”

Kinza smiled.

“I'll try, Papa.”

Zaheer then reminded her about their travel plans.

“We'll leave for the airport shortly. By the time you return from university, we should already have departed. Keep the main door locked properly when you come home, check it again before settling in, and don't open the door to anyone you aren't expecting.”

“I know, Papa.”

“You have the numbers for the grocery shop and the nearby restaurants. If you need food or anything else, order it. There's no reason to go outside unnecessarily while we're away.”

Kinza nodded patiently.

“Don't worry. I'll be fine. I'll come straight home after the exam.”

Kanwal gave her a final affectionate embrace.

“Call us when you get home.”

“I will.”

With one last exchange of prayers and good wishes, the family separated for the morning.

Kinza headed towards university for her final examination.

Kanwal and Zaeer prepared to leave for the airport.

Neither parent knew that, somewhere in Germany, Bilal was counting down the same hours for an entirely different reason.

The university was unusually busy that morning.

Students were gathered in small groups, reviewing notes and discussing the last-minute details of their subjects. Some looked relieved that the examination period was nearly over, while others were still anxiously turning pages.

Kinza tried to keep her attention on her preparation.

She had waited a long time for this day. The final examination represented the end of a demanding academic period, and she wanted to finish it properly.

When the invigilators instructed the students to enter, she put away her notes and took her place.

The paper began.

For the first few minutes, she read every question carefully. Then she started answering, working through the paper methodically and checking her time as she progressed.

There were moments when she paused to think, and others when the answers came naturally. She kept her concentration until the very end, reviewing her work before submitting it.

Finally, the invigilator collected her paper.

Kinza stepped out of the examination hall.

For a few seconds, she simply stood there.

It was finished.

No more examination papers waiting in the coming days. No more checking the schedule every morning. No more carrying the same pressure from one day to the next.

She had finally completed her examinations.

A smile spread across her face as she walked towards the university exit.

Then her phone rang.

Bilal was calling.

Kinza answered the call.

“Hello?”

Bilal's voice sounded cheerful.

“Congratulations! Finally, Aapi, your examinations are over!”

Kinza laughed softly.

“Yes. Finally! I'm done.”

“See? You survived.”

“Of course I survived. I told you I would.”

Bilal laughed.

“I'm sure you did very well.”

They exchanged a few more words, and Kinza thanked him for remembering the timing of her final paper.

Then her expression changed slightly.

She had not forgotten the conversation they had postponed.

“Bhai,” she said, her tone becoming more deliberate, “now that my examination is finished, I need your answer.”

There was a brief silence.

Then Bilal burst into laughter.

Kinza stopped walking for a moment.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Wait, wait!” Bilal replied, still amused. “Give me a little time. You'll get your answer.”

Bilal

“Listen to me. Not right now. You're still outside the examination hall, and you haven't even reached home yet.”

She narrowed her eyes, although he couldn't see her expression.

“You've been postponing this for weeks.”

“I know,” he replied. “And I'm not forgetting it. Just give me a little more time today.”

Kinza was about to argue when he continued.

“I've sent you some details. Check your messages.”

She lowered the phone from her ear and opened their chat.

A new message was waiting for her.

It contained an address and contact details for a place she did not immediately recognise.

Kinza read it once.

Then she read it again.

Her eyebrows rose.

“Bhai, what is this address?”

“Check the details properly,” he said. “Go there, meet them, and then come home. We'll talk afterward.”

She looked at the address again.

It was considerably farther away than she had expected.

“Bilal, this is far away! A cab will charge me so much just to get there and come back.”

He smiled at the other end of the call.

“It's fine.”

“It's not fine. Do you know how much the fare will be?”

Bilal ended the call after telling her to check his next message.

A moment later, a written text arrived.

Bilal: “No issue. I'll pay for the ride. Just go to the address, meet them, and come home safely. Once you're home, call me. Then we'll talk properly.”

Kinza stared at the message.

Who were these people?

Why did he want her to meet them?

And why had he waited until the exact day of her final examination to send her an unfamiliar address?

She typed a reply.

Kinza: “Bhai, at least tell me what this is about.”

His response came quickly.

Bilal: “You'll understand when you get there. Please check the details and let me know when you arrive.”

She sighed.

Of course.

Another surprise.

Another secret.

Another occasion when Bilal seemed to know exactly what he was doing while she had absolutely no idea.

Kinza checked the address once more and opened the map application on her phone.

The destination was farther away than her usual university journey, and she calculated that the ride would cost more than an ordinary trip home.

She hesitated.

Part of her wanted to refuse and demand an explanation before going anywhere. Another part was curious enough to consider the journey, particularly because Bilal had sent a specific address and contact details rather than simply telling her to wander around looking for something.

She checked the information he had provided.

Then she called the listed contact to confirm that the destination was correct and that someone would be expecting her. Once the details were confirmed, she decided to arrange a ride.

Then she booked the cab.

As the car arrived, Kinza settled into the back seat and checked Bilal's messages again.

She could still hear his laughter from their call.

Wait a little. You'll get your answer.

She leaned back against the seat.

“Just wait until I get home, Bilal,” she muttered. “You are going to explain everything.”

The car began moving through the city.

Kinza watched the familiar streets gradually give way to a different part. She had no clear idea what awaited her at the destination, and Bilal was not offering any further clues.

All she knew was that she had finally finished her examinations—and instead of giving her a peaceful afternoon, Bilal had sent her on a mysterious journey.

Meanwhile, Bilal checked his phone and waited for the message confirming her arrival.

The video was nearly finished.

The plan was in motion.

And Kinza was getting closer to discovering the first part of the surprise.

Whatever Bilal had arranged at that address, it was clearly something he wanted her to experience before their long-awaited conversation.