At a point it had become tiring. There was no day I would miss hearing that name.

“Jamal is so charming…,” muttered my classmate Tundun, sighing, upon which the other female students around her nodded deeply.

Their prying gazes were focused on the guy in discuss, Jamal, who was surrounded by a group of babbling guys.  If I had to describe exactly what I felt about Jamal Zaheer in one word, I'd say he was 'extraordinary'.

“Don’t you agree Gabriella?”

“If you say so, then you're probably right.” I said disinterestedly. I wasn't going to be roped into a pointless discussion fawning over a guy.

“Wow, really? that’s a wooden reaction! Are you made of steel? One of the girls said. "Let us not only fall in love, let us live life as if life is our love affair. If there’s a prince charming, fall for him! Isn’t that what it means to be a lady?” Tundun said dreamily.

The girls, led by Tundun, continued to express overdramatic reactions to my nonchalant answer.

I sighed “Well, to be honest I think he's too perfect.” I finally said.

He was devishly handsome, tall, sharp featured, well built and intelligent. He had an attractive personality, good sense of clothing and was polished in behavior. A handsome man with an intellectual touch that avoided loose talk, indecency and rudeness. 

Supplemented by outstanding grades. His pleasing personality made him rather popular. Apparently, he was also good in sports. Jamal Zaheer seemed to be a perfect guy without anything to complain about.

“How’s that a bad thing?” another course mate asked.

“I never said it’s bad. It’s just that I can’t relax around him.” I said.

“Aah, that’s true. Jamal is a guy beyond our reach after all…” happily, Tundun interpreted my comment to her comfort.

My frank observation was that he was so perfect it was uninteresting and being around him would be suffocating. It could be that my attitude is indeed weird, but I’ve discreetly been maintaining a distance from Jamal because I couldn’t see through him.

However, the girls appeared to be really emotionally invested in the popular  guy  and decided to start discussing rumors about Jamal as if they were gossiping about some star.

“But I heard he has a girlfriend in another university?”

“Amina’, was it? That girl who’s three years older than him?”

“Eh? I heard he was the lover of a wealthy woman…”

“Aah, so that’s why he drives a nice car?”

“No kidding! But I heard someone spotted him together with the head of the department, Mrs. Abiola, when they came out of a hotel!”

There was no need for a metaphor anymore—he really was a star. I realized once again just how amazing he was.

And besides, he may not have been comfortable with that particular prestige. I mean, even I couldn't bear it and it wasn't about me.

“You all know those are just rumours, right?” I said. "There's literally no evidence to support any of the rumours" 

A short laugh escaped my mouth because they were discussing this stuff all too seriously and energetically.

"Gabriella, there's no smoke without fire burning somewhere, i'm sure there's an element of truth to what we are saying, you know." Tundun seemed annoyed by my attitude.

“Why don’t you just ask him directly?” So I challenged them with the question. Teasingly ofcourse. And as anticipated, my proposal was fiercely refused.

“As if we could ask him something like that!!”

I was beginning to get amused, so I spurred them on a little more. “If you want, I can go ask as the representative of the class?”

“Wait wait wait!! Gabriella! Don’t rush things! What are we gonna do if the rumors turned out to be true?” Tundun rebuked me in a hurry.

“Maybe they really are just rumors?” I countered.

“But maybe it’s all true!” someone else said.

The other girls nodded in agreement,

“knowing Jamal, it's possible. If it’s him, then it's very possible!”

Sure enough Jamal Zaheer stood out in this class. You might conclude that he was unique in persona. He was like the protagonist of a novel. No doubt everyone was under the illusion that he had already seen a world unimaginable to university students; it was hard to believe he was our age given that he lived so maturely.

"Too many prefer gentle lies to hard truths." I chuckled. It was quite funny to see.

The truth." Tundun sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution"

“We don’t really care much for the truth. A couple of days ago, some idiot confessed to him and got harshly rejected. If you want to reach out to touch the Sun because its bright and beautiful, you will just get yourself burned instead. I will rather fantasise than be hurt by the truth." Tundun finished as though reciting a beautiful poem.

At this point I couldn't hold my amusement in and already started laughing out loud "Being in the prime of your youth is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“Hey, we’re still young! Leave us  to our dreams!”

Apparently I wasn’t supposed to laugh. I eventually stopped “I shall not bother you anymore if you all insist.” 

“Aah, you're such a bore you know, are you really a woman?" Tundun asked.

“We can't all love the same things. You know we all have different tastes" I could already see where this conversation was leading to.

“Who is our dear Gabriella fond of then? No celebrities allowed, by the way.”  The other girls too, jumped at the chance and closed ranks by leaning forward and urging, “Tell us! Tell us!”

“Well, let’s see—” I had to frown to keep a blush from creeping on my face.

To tell the truth, there was no guy who I could have mentioned specifically, but looking at the situation I didn’t believe these hypersensitivity girls would content themselves with that.

“—I think Ola's cute.”

I just spoke out the first name that came to mind right then, but all of them seemed rather disappointed and made unimpressed faces.

“How depressing. It could not become any more typical, could it? You are just so boring and predictable" complained Tundun.

“You're reaching, don't you think? So you claim that it’s not typical to feel attracted to Jamal?” I said.

“You're right in the sense that he ’s also a typical target, but his quality, so to speak, is on a whole different level from Ola’s! If Ola was Fanta, Jamal would be wine.”

“Then don’t you agree that Fanta suits us? afterall wine isn't something just anyone can afford” I said.

Tundun just rolled her eyes “Stop trying  to act smart, you don’t get it. I’m trying to say that there's like, um, a certain allure about Wine, you know? Like, since it's not your everyday drink, it seems almost forbidden, like a class above all other drinks…are you following me?”

“Aren't we saying the same thing? I certainly know what you mean. But I still like Fanta. Don’t you?”

“Um, well, sure, I like Fanta too, but…” Tundun’s muttered barely audibly. The others too started averting their gazes like they were looking for something.

While Jamal was an exceptional guy indeed, Ola was very charming, too — for an ordinary guy. Their reaction originated from not wanting to admit that I was right while being unable to deny it.

Feeling like the winner, I said, “Let’s toast with some Fanta, then.”

“You’re a pretty damn devious girl, you know that?” Tundun said bitterly.

“Thank you.” I sang with a triumphant smile.

“I ain’t praising you.” Tundun hissed.

Tundun was still a little sulky, but I was happy to entertain myself this morning.

“—Hey, everyone! Get back to your seats! classes are starting!”

Urged by the abrupt voice, they all turned their turned their attention towards the front door. They acted sensitively because the notification came from the guy they just spoke about.

“He’s right. Let's follow the advice of Mr. Fanta and wait at our seats,” said Tundun, whereupon everyone rushed to their respective desks.

“Fanta…?” wondered Fanta himself a.k.a. Ola and tilted his head. “…I bet you’ve been talking bad about me or something, haven’t you?” Ola, sitting beside me, pursed his lips.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“We were merely talking about beverages.” I said.

“That’s a lie. If a couple of girls gather, they talk about either boys, beauty tips or celebrity stuff,” he claimed.

This was a misguided view which was relatively unfair. I had to admit though,  we were talking about guys or rather a guy in particular.

"Are you scared of what we might have been saying about you?" I teased.

"No! I mean yes..who wouldn't be concerned? What if what is being said is totally wrong? I can't just let it slide." Ola was flustered.

Ola always got all worked up in no time whenever I teased him. And once he was worked up, he was like a little animal, a pet — pretty amusing to watch, really.

"Listen, you should always resist the urge to explain yourself” I said jokingly.

“—I'm not...I'm just...urgh” He pushed my peeking head away with his palm: “Go away!”

“Rejoice, Ola. It seems Gabriella is fond of Fanta!” Tundun, who had been watching us, laughed with a face that made her seem like she was mocking.

“Okay i'm curious now, tell me already, what’s the thing with Fant—” Ola swallowed his words mid-sentence. Our Lecturer, Professor Akanji, had entered the classroom.

The only sounds in the classroom were Akanji’s weak voice explaining while drawing some symbols on the white board with a marker. 

Apparently our conversation was still bothering Ola; he kept stealing glances at me. After some minutes had passed, he finally lost patience. He leaned a little towards me and whispered, “What was that about?”

“I’m trying to concentrate on the lesson, Ola,” I answered without removing my eyes from the whiteboard.

“…don’t be mean~” he said.

Because I kept silent, he started poking my side with his pencil. The tip pierced through the fabric of my shirt and stuck into my skin.

“Hey, that hurts.” I hissed under my breath.

“Then don’t ignore me,” sulked Ola. “You guys were talking about Jamal, weren’t you?”

“Oh, were we?” I feigned.

“…you always try to slip off like this, Gabriella. Actually, I know that you were gossiping about him”

“You eavesdropped on us? Why am I not surprised.” I said.

“That’s not it! I only heard Jamal’s name by chance! Because you guys were talking so loudly!” Ola said.

“Ola" I called for her attention because Professor  Akanji had turned towards the class. He sat up in a hurry and pretended to be copying what was written on the whiteboard.

After some moments of silence: “…Say, Gabriella. You prefer guys like Jamal too, don’t you?” whispered  Ola while looking down at his notes.

I glanced towards the front right. Jamal Zaheer—the guy in question—stared charismatically at the whiteboard. From the side, his face looked intelligent, giving him a look like an anchor from the news.

Sitting in the very middle of the class he made it look like he was the heartbeat of the class, but that wouldn't be far from the truth.

Indeed, he was someone special. Although I personally avoided excessive contact with him, I could very well comprehend why everyone seemed to adore him, guys and girls alike.

“—No, not particularly.” I said after a while.

I'm not one to purposely look for trouble  but I became interested in how Ola would react.

“Is that so?” He made a smile, seeming somehow relieved.

“We discussed this allegory: if he were a beverage, Jamal would be wine.”

—I wonder, what kind of reaction he will make?

“And, by the way, you’d be Fanta.” I finished.

Beside me I heard the sound of a pen dropping.

“Ah yeah?”

Ola played with the pencil between his fingers, feigning indifference. However, I didn’t overlook that moment when his cheeks blushed.

After that, Ola’s questioning stopped.

His honest reaction was something that calmed my mind. I had only given his name back then to put them off, but perhaps I had actually revealed my true thoughts which I had been unaware of myself.

At least at that very moment I felt that I could like Ola.

-------------------‐--------------------------------------------------

After the class representatives regular meeting with our level  advisor at the end of the month, I watched the male class representative, Jamal, leave in a hurry and I strolled back to our classroom.

Having reached the empty room, I prepared myself to leave as well. As I had no extracurricular activities, I had nothing to do at school anymore. What was left was going to my hostel and preparing for my part-time job.

When I stood up from my seat, I noticed a notebook on the floor. I immediately realised whom it belonged to. Its front page read “Jamal Zaheer”.

I briefly remebered I saw him hurrying home. I decided to put it on the desk before leaving.

And just as I was about to do that, I noticed a piece of paper that fell out of the notebook. I grasped the paper, thinking nothing of it and picked it up.

“…hmm...now this is unexpected"

It turned out to be a folded A4 report sheet. The caption written on it matched neither the Jamal everyone talked of nor my personal image of him.

I put it in my bag. I did so because I thought that it would take quite a while to read all the suspenseful wording. It was quite tempting.

No, I didn't even feel a sliver of remorse at that very moment. This was nothing but genuine curiosity.

With what I saw on the paper, I knew, Jamal truly was akin to wine, I was already getting intoxicated from a whiff of him. In short, I was interested in the wine everyone praised so highly.

“Alright, what kind of secret of our demigod really hiding…?”

Let's find out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

It was past 9 p.m. when I returned home after finishing my work at the restaurant.

I had quickly forgotten about the piece of paper I acquired in the afternoon due to the stress that came with work.

You see, I loved observing and analysing people, you could even say it's an hobby of mine, I even enjoyed working at the restaurant for that sole reason. You would meet all kinds of people, behaviours and attitudes.

You won't be able to help but try and understand what makes them tick.

An old woman who always took the same seat and orders two meals but doesn't eat any. A teenager of barely adult age who changes the girl at his side each visit. The cooled-down relationship of a couple that had been deeply in love just half a year ago. And many more.

It always made me excited. In reality though, I was no different from Tundun and the others. I, too, was just an ordinary 20 year old . I did not want to know the truth. I simply wanted to enjoy wallowing in my fantasies.

I was in the middle of relaxing, taking a warm bath, when I remembered the sheet I had picked up after school.

With my body still warm I dove into my bed and unfolded the paper. While holding myself back from hurrying things, I slowly glanced over the title.

“How to get away with murder”

It reminded me of a series I've watched before with the same title. Perhaps, he was a fan too, hopefully not.

The rumors about his glamorous love life seemed to have no end, but his reputation remained completely unquestionable. He was by no means a person fit for the term "murder."

It could have been this possibility that piqued my interest. Contrasts like this have a kind of magic that draws you in — be it for the better or worse.

My eyes quickly scanned over the text, totally immersed in it. True to the title “How to get away with murder”, it introduced different ways of killing someone, that would not be traced back to the murderer.

I noticed that parts of the text had been crossed and corrected, indicating that the plan had been revised several times. I could almost feel the presence of the person who had wrote down those very complicated words. So to say, it has had something vibrant about it.

I found something that all the murder methods had in common while reading through.

The most important priority obviously was to remove the target without dirtying one's own hands. 

“…is he really practicing to become a mystery author?”

These seemed like the tricks made for a mystery novel. They were written rather clumsily though, and far from being flawless.

To present an example: there was one way of killing titled “The Feigned Traffic Accident Murder plan”. It simply said

"It takes 20 minutes to reach the high way, there's a traffic light every two hundred meters, call the driver and distract the driver with a piece of shocking news. Make them lose concentration"

It was written in bullet points like this. Additional remarks like “Put some hindrance on the road?” and "Call at the red traffic light" were very sparsely added.

I mused about what I just read. The plan didn't really seem possible or rather you'll need a lot of luck to pull it off. Although the chances  of finding out who caused the accident was low, I didn’t think the plan was likely to succeed either. I could see he tried, but this was a very weak plan if he was to really kill someone.

I dropped the murder plan on my study table..

My disappointment was much, because I had high hopes. The plan's all too idiotic contents had killed my curiosity.

“…no, hold on a sec.” A new thought lifted my spirits to new heights again.

Who was the owner of this “Murder plan”?

It was Jamal Zaheer

What if, purely hypothetically, he had written this because he seriously wanted to kill someone…? That thought made the clumsy text feel rather realistic at once.

Jamal had! That perfect, stylish, beautiful, intelligent “Jamal” who was adored by everyone!

And he had edited such an immature murder plan over and over.

“…now, aren’t we cute?”

If this assumption turned out to be accurate, I would be a huge fan of his.

It set my imagination in motion.I began to wonder about all sorts of issues, like the person he wanted to kill, his possible motive and his unseen character. I kept pondering until I eventually fell asleep.

I went to school the next morning later than I would have usually done. Most of my classmates were already present by the time I entered the classroom. Needless to say, Jamal was among them as well.

As I walked to my seat I glanced at him secretly. He seemed to be searching for something.This seemed like like a perfectly natural behavior to some, at least.

Not to me though.

“Good morning, Jamal.” I greeted him as always.

He stopped what he was doing, tilted his head and flashed his signature charming smile. “Good morning, Gabriella.”

Our talk should have normally ended right there. We just knew each other well enough to trade greetings.  But I didn’t want to let it end there.

“Are you looking for something?” I said trying to provoke him to slip up.

My curiosity was vexing me, for I knew that he might be searching for the “Murder plan”.

I looked at him closely, not wanting to miss the slightest hint.

“No, I am just sorting my books.” He said with his smile left unchanged.

What a letdown I thought. "Carry on" I said, trying not to show my dissapointment.

“But…,” he suddenly called me from behind,

“why did you think I was searching for something?”

I was desperate not to break into a broad smile.

He fell for my trap, I was getting giddy from excitement.

“No, I’m afraid there’s no particular reason,” I turned around towards him, playing dumb.

“But let me return that question: why do you ask? I decided to probe lightly.

“I had no particular reason, either.” He said still smiling.

“I see.” This will be hard I thought.

I felt the desire to make that smile freeze, but I knew I had to take my time with this. Keep my cards close to my chest.

“But if…,” I began, “if you are troubled, feel free to ask me for help.”

“What’s the matter, Gabriella? I don’t remember you being this gentle?” Jamal smiled even wider.

“I’m gentler than you believe, that’s for sure.” I retorted.

“Is that so?. I’ll be sure to remember that then.”

“Of course the primary motivation would be getting a guy of outstanding popularity like you indebted to me, though.” I pushed.

Jamal laughed. “Thank you. I will directly consult you then, Gabriella, should I ever be troubled.”

The way he looked was suspicious to me, but it may have  just been my wishful thinking, though.

Our conversation ended because one of our lecturers, had appeared in the classroom.

My mood that day was very good. I found it a good experience because I had discovered how entertaining and amusing it was to chat with Jamal. It felt like a game of chess.

Well, though, it was just me cherishing the excitement that my own fantasies created. I knew he was hiding something...something the rest of the class didn't and he wasn't sure if I knew.

The day quickly went by and the next day came by fast as well, and it couldn't come any sooner because the first thing I heard when I got to class...

“Hey, Gabriella! Have you heard?" It was Ola. He seemed to be in tears.

I went to school as always, and the classroom was ever noisy. But Jamal was nowhere in sight. 

I was confused but it wasn't long before the answer came..

“Can’t say I have.” I answered. Of course I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Someone from Jamal's family is dead.”

I felt my heartbeat accelerate. Beating so fast, It was almost audible.

“Who?” I asked. I was scared to know the truth but I was also excited in a weird way.

“His mum, it seems. It was a traffic accident. Jamal has my fullest sympathies…,” answered Ola with a sad face.

“ I feel sorry for him. To lose one’s mother at this age, that’s…” Unlike her normal everyday behavior, Tundun also had an anguished disposition.

“…Indeed. Let’s all support him.” I felt bad for him but I also didn't  feel as sad as I should be because of what I knew about him.

Jamal Zaheer, traffic accident, death—these keywords led me straight to the murder plan.

Things are just getting interesting.