WILLOCK 31

"Ezron, Ezron…" I stated in the loudest voice I had ever used to call him. I had already left the hotel, and we were all retiring to our sleeping areas when I found Ezron was already knocked out. Maybe he had returned earlier after the visitors started leaving.

"Yeah?" He replied lazily.

"Do I look old? Am I developing wrinkles that which I can't see?" I asked, hopeful and patient, expecting the most honest answer. Ezron burst into a thunderous forced laugh, which made it clear I wasn't joking.

"You sound like a woman," he added, making me squint my eyes at him. But I genuinely wanted a true answer. I had changed my hairstyle, my dressing had evolved, and I expected he would at least point out some of those differences, but he simply said, "You look familiar" and left without saying more.

"Is it about Amir?" He asked, building on his previous question, to which I hadn't yet replied. My silence conveyed the truth. "You can't be serious, man. What will he help you with anyway?" He continued, now sitting down on his bed, eager to hear my response. It was a question I had been pondering for hours and minutes beforehand. What did I expect from Amir?

"I don't know; I just feel lost…"

"Lost in our worlds?" Ezron interjected.

"Not exactly. I mean, I…" I tried to explain, but nothing coherent came out of my mouth.

"It's okay, man… I understand. Sometimes it's hard to accept certain aspects of our lives because they're challenging," Ezron said. In that moment, he made a statement that highlighted and emphasized the differences between us as human beings, in relation to classes. While I was getting ready for bed, taking off my work clothes and putting on my sleeping attire, Ezron usually sat near the light source to read books. But today, I was too tired from everything, and simple things like Amir not recognizing me occupied my thoughts more than anything else.

"It's not about our sides; it's not about being comfortable. It's just that he is my friend, Ezron," I added, trying to make him understand,… understand why I wanted Amir's recognition so desperately.

"They'll rat you out to the king," Ezron stated firmly.

"No, they can't... they barely have any ties and relations with the king of England, just the petroleum trading exports, I guess."

"Why? People can do anything for ties, Lock," he added, then continued, "I'm not stopping you from wanting to see him, but I think you should think all this through. If it's really important. We already have a job, one which we initially did not anticipate. We can't make another move. I can't help when you are chased out of here. You'll have to leave alone this time."

At first, I thought he wasn't serious about the first part, but seeing how he looked at me, I knew he was serious. Would he really do such a thing? Would he really leave me if I were to be reported and had to flee from this kingdom? But I knew Amir. He was one of the closest friends I had ever had, other than Ezron. He had seen the darkest parts of my life, my pain when no one else could, how much I yearned for home and acceptance. He saw how even the slightest bit of attention changed my demeanor, for those were some things I had never found myself enjoying in my whole life. Attention was not something I had experienced much of. Yes, my father tried spending some time with me, but it was never enough. I still felt empty, alone, and like I didn't belong. When I met Amir, we became like brothers. He taught me about Islam and the Quran. He had once told me that if things got tough, his home was open to accommodate me. He even joked that his sister was quite a catch, and he wouldn't mind introducing us, a match that would make England's king tremble and fight to call me back for somehow…, I had something that could act as a great bond between the English and Iraqis.

Of course, I had never told Ezron about my friendship with Amir or about anything beyond being close friends. I had never told him about the times we had sneaked into drinking inns together, despite being underage, just to taste beer. I never told him how much I kept the bartenders busy with my stories while Amir had some wild intimacy with one of the bartenders' daughters. I never told him how we would stand our ground, side by side, until the day my father suddenly wanted me back. It felt like the worst departure. Since then, we hadn't written to each other. I started getting involved in my father's business and had so many checks and sums to manage that finding minutes and seconds to edit a simple letter became a rare event. I barely thought of Amir. He became an acquaintance, someone I had a good relation with. It was more of a far of friend. Only late earlier, did I start thinking of him. However, I closed the case that if destiny willed it, it would bring us together somehow or write us into each other's stories in heaven.

"The princess is quite a catch," Ezron stated, trying to change the topic.

"Why do you say that? I haven't paid much attention to her," I replied, knowing I wasn't a good liar.

"I saw her checking you out from the moment she entered," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I think she has her eyes on you. The princess gets what she wants," he added.

I had noticed her interest, too. I had even glanced at her a few times and compared her to the princess of our monarchy. They seemed to have a liking for each other based on their body statue and figure. As I had stated earlier, she had this strong aura that made every man respect her from far. She was of course beautiful;, a definition of a bright Arabian woman, the words that I loved calling the treasures of being a woman. Women were sure some treasures out there, no one would ever disagree with that. Men would do anything to get the attention of one with whom they liked, even though it means fighting many just for that one. As I stated, or rather thought about all this, I realized that Ezron was waiting for my deepest reply or rather confession about the princess. She had not caught my eye of interest but I would say that she was a catch for many, but for me I still had quite a number of things to do.

"If you say so," I said with a slight smile.

"You can use her to get closer to Amir," Ezron suggested. I shook my head vigorously even before he could explain why he thought such a thing. I was not the type to use people to achieve my goals, especially not women. Why would I get involved with her just to get the prince's attention? And what if I used her and Amir found out? I would be forced into a relationship or entanglement with someone I couldn't have. But did I really have a choice? Well of course I knew I had a choice of getting nearer to Amir, but this of Ezron's choices,...no..not one of the best.

"I can't do that. There's too much at risk, and she's a princess," I stated.

"Well, who cares?" Ezron replied quickly.

"It doesn't work like that. We never play with women to get close to our targets. We use our enemies, not friends or lovers, and especially not love. Always keep love out of the picture; it will break you in the hardest ways. There's always a payback."

"That's not necessarily true."

"When I was on my adventures, we were always taught to be heartless with everything, but not with someone's heart. Because once it breaks, it takes years to mend, and even if it's mended, it takes no time at all for it to reopen. I can't play with Amir's sister's feelings just for my personal gain. I'm not some greedy politician. I'd rather become a pianist until death does me a favor."

"Do you ever think about getting married someday?" Ezron asked. I smirked, knowing that throughout our conversation, I had been standing and watching him. Now, I sat on the opposite bed, facing his.

"Marriage... it's far, far from my mind, even more than any other word or action."

"Why is that?" He asked, waiting for the most honest answer. But I didn't have one other than, "I don't deserve anyone."

"I don't think you're serious. 'You don't deserve' is a complex word."

"I can't explain it much more than that, and I think we should sleep, as tomorrow is another big day," I said, trying to put an end to the conversation.