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*

Bachpan main sunaye Nani,
Ik pyari pariyon ki kahaani,

Is main tha ek shehzada, is main thi ik shehzadi,
Is main tha ik haiwan, jo chahe bas barbadi.

Har aisi aik kahani, jo humain gayi sunai,
Us main jeeti achai, us main haari burai.

Hum sabaq yeh sikhain inse, chuna hai rasta sacha,
Ho safar chahe mushkil, par ajar milega acha.

- A StarsandMoon1447 Original

In the translation, it won't rhyme, but here goes:

In our childhood our [maternal]grandmother used to tell us
A lovely fairy tale,

In this there was a prince, in this there was a princess,
In this there was a beast/villain, who wanted nothing but destruction.

In every such story, that we were told
The victory was of the good side, and evil was defeated.

The moral of these stories, that the right path must be chosen,
The journey might be difficult, but the reward will be great.

*

Arsalan

"Rohaan, what the hell?" A sense of panic started building up inside me as I saw my brother.

It was late, almost two at night. I had woken up due to strange sounds. Sleepily, I had gotten up and made my way out of the room. Seeing the light spilling out of Rohaan's room, I had made my way towards it.

When he didn't answer my knock, I had went in anyway. The bathroom door had opened as I had entered his room and Rohaan had stepped out.

He was wincing in pain as he pressed a hand against his left shoulder. His knuckles were grazed, stained by blood, and he had a black eye. As he walked, he limped a little.

"What happened?!" I demanded.

"Quit screaming like a damsel-in-distress from the low budget overly dramatized films of the nineteen twenties." He muttered. "I'm fine." 

"Let me think of where exactly should I start correcting you." I said. "The black eye, the blood, the limping or the pain in the shoulder."

Rohaan looked at the door alarmed and walked over as quickly as he could manage before closing it. "You ever heard of the phrase 'snitches get stitches'? Well, that's what happened to me. It was expected."

"Those guys did that to you? Weren't they in jail?" I asked.

"They're out while the CPS decides whether to take things forward to the court."

"And they think that beating you up won't deteriorate the situation of the legal proceedings?"

"Don't lawyer up on me, Arsal." He groaned. "Go and get me a pack of ice or something." 

"Go to the A&E." 

"Arsal, I'm fine, man. I don't need a third parent." He was clearly irritated due to pain. "Just get me an ice pack, man." 

I nodded quickly and rushed out of the room.

A sister with a sprain and a brother beaten up. Mama is going to have a meltdown if she hears about Ro. 

While opening the freezer and taking out the tray of ice cubes, I had to smash the thing onto the table to free the cubes. Unfortunately, in the silence of the night it was very loud. 

"What are you doing, Arsal?" Papa's voice came from the doorway.

I looked at him, wide-eyed. I opened my mouth to lie, to tell him that I was just preparing an ice-cold drink to myself, but no matter what, I couldn't lie. "I needed an ice pack." 

"Why?" He frowned, walking over to me. "Did you hurt yourself?" 

I shook my head. "Not me. Rohaan." Ro is going to kill me.

"Is he in his room?" He asked. Before I even nodded, he turned and headed towards the stairs. 

I followed after quickly placing the ice cubes into a ziplock bag, knowing that my brother's wrath was going to befall me like an avalanche.

"Rohaan, what happened?" Papa strode into my brother's room and I stood in the doorway.

Rohaan glared at me.

"Don't look at me. Answer me. What happened?" Our father asked him.

"I told the police and now I suffered the consequences." Rohaan shrugged. "See, the right thing sucks sometimes."

"Come with me. I'm taking you to the A&E." Papa told him, and as my brother began to argue, our father firmly interrupted. "No arguments. Come on." 

Rohaan stood up and he stumbled a little. 

Papa wrapped his arm around him. "Lean your weight on me, come on."

Rohaan sighed but obliged.

"Arsal, lock up." Papa looked at me. "Go back to bed, don't worry. I got this."

"Message me or call me with updates." I said. "Shall I wake up Haya?" 

Because Haya had been suffering some pain, she had taken pain killers that cause her drowsiness before bed. It was her first night back home as she had come back with Papa.

"No, absolutely not." Papa said. "Please get my wallet and car keys, Arsal." 

I rushed towards my parents' room and grabbed the items before heading back. Papa was already taking Rohaan downstairs, who seemed to be in a fragile state. I felt worried.

"The ones who did this to you made life much more difficult for themselves, Ro." Our father told him. "I won't let them get away with it, don't worry. I am the one who needs to worry. Your mother's second child ended up needed medical treatment in her absence. I have a lot of explanation to do." He gave him a little smile, as if to make Rohaan feel better.

"I suggest you take a long holiday." Rohaan grinned back at him.

"Shh, no jokes. Mama's ladla is here." Papa chuckled, glancing in my direction.

"Oh yeah, true." 

The two laughed at my expense before Papa took my brother to the A&E.

A small smile appeared on my face. I adored my family, and often lately it always made me think about how Tahira would have felt. I couldn't even imagine feeling ignored or abandoned by my family. How must she feel?

*

Haya

As the days passed by, I was eager for Mama and Hoor to return. It was not easy being the only female in an all-male household.

I was so, so bored out of my mind that when Dado suggested that I attended a charity tea party at the Leisure Club, I agreed immediately. I usually hated events where we are supposed to dress up, but this time I was more than eager to go.

I raided Hoor's wardrobe for an outfit to wear. I wore a long white dress with sheer net over the skirt and blue flowers with golden leafy patterns. The border had a thin band of gold adorning it, and a similar band was tied as a belt around the midriff with a golden bow. The arms were long but sheer lace. "This is not me." I stared at my reflection in the mirror after I had put on flat white sandals (also borrowed from Hoor).

Dado wouldn't stop gushing when she saw me, and she had to take a photo to send to Mama and Nano.

"Which fairy godmother did you meet, Cinderella?" Rohaan scoffed when he saw me.

"The one who was meant to see you, but decided that it was a lost cause and gave up." I shot back.

"Where are you guys going?" Papa asked as he sat in the living room, chatting to Dada Jaan.

"To arrange Haya's marriage. Any objections?" Dado asked him teasingly.

I smiled. Dado was goals.

"Come here, Haya." Dada Jaan patted the empty spot beside him on the sofa.

I walked over and sat down beside him. "Yes, Dada Jaan?"

He placed his hands on the sides of my face and kissed my forehead. "May you find true happiness. May you achieve all your goals. May all those duas and wishes that you have come true as long as they are good for you. Ameen."

"Dada Jaan, we're not actually going to arrange my marriage." I squeezed his hands as they rested over my cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere that easily, don't worry." 

He smiled. "May whatever direction your life takes brings you nothing but happiness, success and peace. Ameen."

I kissed his cheek. "Keep your duas with me and I'll be fine, In Sha Allah." I looked at Dado. "Shall we go?" 

My grandmother and I headed out. A driver was going to drive us to the club, and Dado and I sat at the back.

"You're a natural beauty, Ma Sha Allah, Haya. And these outfits look so beautiful on you. I don't understand why you choose to wear those sporty outfits all the time." 

"I feel more comfortable in them. Right now I feel like Alice heading to Wonderland." 

She laughed.

As we drove, I messaged Hoor.

<Haya: I borrowed your dress.>

She didn't reply immediately, but I knew that she was busy preparing for the wedding. She didn't just have to shop for the clothes, accessories and jewellery. They were making arrangements for all the functions. I felt tired just thinking about it.

"We are having tea in the ballroom today." Dado told me as we arrived.

As we headed up the front steps of the club, Hoor replied.

<Hoor: Dress?! Did you just say 'dress'?>

I rolled my eyes. My sister was overly dramatic. Clearly she hadn't seen the photo that Dado had sent Mama and Nano.

Dado used the electronic tablet set up at the reception to scan her membership ID and to sign in, before leading me inside.

As we entered, the instrumental version of 'Once Upon A Dream', a song that I recognised from the classic Sleeping Beauty, was playing in the background. The hall was decorated in gentle pink shades. A long table was set up with glass vases in the centre that contained pink roses. Pink coasters were set under white plates that had pale pink borders, along with matching cups and saucers. and the cutlery was golden. A classic English tea pot and small milk jugs were set up on each table. Both these items had floral patterns painted over it, which was also on the tea cups. Also at the centre of the table were cake and sandwich stands. The food ranged from sandwiches to scones, to cake slices and strawberries. It was the perfect tea party.

"Mrs Tariq!" A woman's loud voice made both me and Dado turn.

A rotund middle-aged woman was rushing towards us, beaming. Her pink cheeks and sparkling eyes reflected a friendly and warm personality.

"Rebecca!" Dado greeted her, delighted. "My, how many years has it been, my dear?" 

The two hugged and as Rebecca Aunty pulled back, she placed her hands on Dado's upper arms. "It's been at least a decade!" Dressed in a gorgeous Pakistani shalwar kameez suit, Rebecca Aunty had thick dark hair with red highlights, which she had left loose. She turned her gaze to me. "And who is this beautiful girl?" 

"This is my granddaughter." Dado placed a hand on my arm as she introduced me. "Haya. Haya, this is Rebecca, an old friend of mine."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear." Rebecca Aunty hugged me, before turning back to Dado. "Oh, how are Rehan and Anabia? And what about Yasin and Saba?"  

"Alhumdulillah, everyone is well. But where have you been?" Dado asked her.

Rebecca Aunty's eyes lost some of their brightness. "A decade or so ago, I lost my sister to cancer. I've been trying to focus on her son since then, being a substitute mother to him. He's a grown up, but I wanted him to know that he could turn to me. He has his father, of course, but no siblings." 

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Rebecca." Dado spoke softly, genuine sympathy radiating from both her eyes and voice.

"It is what it is, Mrs Tariq. Such matters are out of our hands." Rebecca Aunty's regained their brightness as her smile returned to her face. "I will introduce you to Aariz later. He'll be here to pick me up." 

"You can join the younger girls if you want, Haya." Dado encouraged me. "Don't be bored with us, my dear." 

I shrugged and nodded, heading away. I took a seat on the empty side of the table and pulled my phone out. Thank God for technology. Saves us from many moments of social awkwardness. I couldn't tell Dado that I was often shunned by girls my ages, because I didn't share the same interests as them in general. I had friends, sure, but they were closer together than they were with me, since most of the things they liked didn't interest me. But I didn't mind. I enjoyed solitude.

But I suppose that we often come across some people in our lives who make us realise that humans find comfort in company and interaction, rather than solitude.

There are some people who would eradicate solitude in a person's life to an extent that someone who was once a lover of solitude, grows to loathe and fear it.

And such a person was going to step into my life tonight, causing a storm in my life: a storm that did not cause destruction, but was one that was beautiful to witness by the human eye. 

*

I was exploring the club and was heading up the stairs, looking at the intricately designed railings, when I heard the sound of something that was as familiar to me as the voice of my family members: the sound of cricket commentary.

I looked around, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. Walking up the steps to the landing, I turned the corner and saw a man sitting there in a suit, his gaze focused on the phone in his hand as he clearly watched cricket.

"Who's playing?" I blurted out. "I don't recall there being any major game tonight."

He looked up curiously. A lock of his dark hair fell over his forehead almost reaching his eye. "I just want cricket, major or minor." A corner of his mouth lifted up in a smile.

"God, that statement is my life statement or something." I shrugged. "So, who's playing?"

"It's a county match." He held up his phone for me to see. He then stoop up, locking and pocketing his phone. "I suppose I should go. My aunt must be waiting for me." He walked towards me since the stairs were behind me. He had short but thick wavy brown hair and as he looked towards the stairs I could see that he had honey brown eyes. He paused in his steps and looked at me. "Cricket fan?" 

I laughed lightly. "More like cricket lunatic. I once planned an itinerary to visit all the cricket stadiums in the UK. Eventually, I would then visit all the stadiums in the world."

"Wow, and I thought I had it bad." He smiled. "Aariz Abdullah." He kept his hands in his pockets, but nodded politely at me.

"Haya Rehan." 

"This is so going to sound stereotypical, but I mean it as nothing offensive, but I have never met a die-hard female cricket fan before." 

I shrugged. "There are eight billion people in the world. I doubt you've even met a small percentage of that amount of people, right? So just because someone's never met someone like me, doesn't mean that our kind don't exist."

"Touché." 

"Or maybe I'm just one in an eight billion." I smiled and turned to head down the stairs. I didn't get offended by his comment. I knew that he didn't mean it in a bad sense, because I've met people who have commented regarding my love for cricket in an almost demeaning manner. 

Here are a few examples:

"Will you make rotis or will you sit around waiting for the last ball of the last over?"

"At least her husband won't have to fight with her to let him watch cricket over her soap dramas!" This was followed by a loud cackle of laughter.

"Focus on cleaning and cooking. Like cricket to the males." 

Fortunately, none of the comments came from family or extended family/relatives, so I didn't give a toss about their opinions.

*

"This is Aariz, my nephew." Rebecca Aunty introduced me and Dado to Aariz, unaware that I'd already met him. "Aariz, this is Nina Tariq and her granddaughter, Haya."

"Assalam Alaikum." Aariz smiled warmly at Dado. 

"Walaikum Assalam." Dado replied. "I believe I have seen you playing cricket around the club before? Are you Dr Abdullah? My friends mentioned that you are a brilliant orthopaedist."

"I am an orthopaedist, but I cannot be the judge of whether I'm brilliant or not." Aariz replied, modestly.

"Oh, hush, you. You have won a national award for your service."  Rebecca Aunty looked at him. 

"It's not something that a modest person goes around telling people, Khalla." Aariz looked almost embarrassed as he scratched the back of his ear, his head bowed.

"He also plays cricket brilliantly! He adores the sport and I often tell him to play professionally since he loves it so much and he's so good at it!" Rebecca Aunty continued. "But he says that cricket is good as a hobby, but he loves his career more."

I could definitely relate to that sentiment.

"Oh, our Haya is the same!" Dado laughed. "She adores crickets, but loves art more. She claims that cricket is like a mistress, whereas art is like a spouse- something she'd dedicate her life to."

This time I felt embarrassed. My stupid analogies might not be so clever to other people.

"That is so accurate. I can relate." Aariz's words made me look up in surprise. "So, what would you like to do in the field of art?" 

I shrugged. "I was considering opening up my own gallery one day, but I realise that it's going to take a long time." Maybe never. Dreams seem easier within the confines of our minds; when reality steps in, it brings along with it impossibility and obstacles.

"That's impressive!" Rebecca Aunty said. "Mrs Tariq, your family is truly talented when it comes to literature and art."

Dado smiled proudly at me. "Ma Sha Allah." She turned to the other woman again. "Rebecca, you must visit our home for lunch or dinner one day. We have a lot to catch up on." 

"Indeed we do, Mrs Tariq." Rebecca Aunty hugged Dado again. 

"Aariz, I want to extend that invitation to you too, dear." Dado looked at him. 

"In Sha Allah, Mrs Tariq." 

We said our goodbyes and parted ways.

"How do you know Rebecca Aunty?" I asked my grandmother as we got into the car.

She smiled as she stared off thoughtfully into the distance. "Rebecca and I used to volunteer for the same charitable organisation, one dedicated to helping widows and divorcees in Pakistan. Although Rebecca and her sister, Aariz's mother, Roseanne had grown up in England, their roots were from Pakistan. And as their own mother had been widowed, they knew how much she had struggled as a single mother, so both sisters were dedicated to this charity. However, Rebecca and I regularly travelled there to personally spend our time with those women and help them progress with education or learning other key skills." She looked at me. "Rebecca never married. She dedicated her life to helping others. But I suppose she found an important role in the life of Aariz, a maternal role."

"We really take our lives for granted, don't we?" I whispered.

"Yes, we do, Haya. Unfortunately, no matter how much we try not to, we keep doing it." 

It really humbles a person to hear such stories. It reminds you of the blessings in our lives. But why do us humans remember these things only briefly, and then go back to our ungrateful complaining selves again?

Why can't we all be as selfless as Rebecca Aunty seemed to be?

I rested my head on my grandmother's shoulder. "I'm glad I came with you today, Dado. It was nice to meet someone like Rebecca Aunty. Someone who dedicates themselves to serving humanity is truly noble." 

"Indeed, Haya." 

I closed my eyes.

"My sweet little Haya." She kissed my forehead, and that was the last thing I remembered before I dozed off.

*

Hooriya

"I..." I blankly stared at myself as I stood in front of the mirror. Glancing down at the paper again, I stared speaking again. "Guys, I'm going to be your new..." I stamped my foot like a toddler. "No! That sounds too childish!"

As time ticked by, more than my approaching marriage, I was nervous about my approaching lectureship that would commence in just over three months. I was started to doubt whether I was right for it or not.

"Hooriya!"

I jumped and the paper slipped from between my fingers. "Y-Yes, Mama?" I rushed out of the room and stood on the landing, staring downstairs.

Mama was furiously pacing the foyer and she looked up at me accusingly. "Did you know?" 

"Did I know what?" I had no idea what she was talking about.

"About Rohaan?" She asked. "I finally was able to speak to him on video call today, and it was only because I pointed out the small gash by his eye that I found out what happened! He got beaten up and nobody bothered telling me! Did you know?" 

I need a lawyer. Or my father. "Y-Yes?" Haya had told me everything as me and my siblings had a video conference call.

"Anabia." Nano came out in the foyer and placed a hand on Mama's shoulder. "Rehan's there, and clearly there's nothing to worry about otherwise he would have told you himself."

"Haya got injured. Hoor came down with a severe fever. Rohaan got beaten up. What is going on with my kids?" Mama suddenly looked very stressed.

"Alhumdulillah they're all okay, Anabia." Nano spoke softly. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mama looked up at me.

"Because...as Nano said, that there was nothing to worry about. He's fine and..."

"Nothing to worry about? Your brother got beaten up, Hooriya! Is that nothing to worry about?" Mama shook her head. "I have to speak to Rehan. He has no right to hide these things from me!"

"I can't even blame you. You're my daughter, you inherited it from me." Nano said, exasperated. "Let it go, Anabia. You have enough on your plate right now, and that's why he didn't tell you. The important thing is that Rohaan is fine." She looked up at me. "Go back to your room, beta."

"He was going to eventually tell you." I spoke timidly as I looked at my mother. "But right now wasn't a good timing considering how much you're managing on your own."

Mama didn't say anything, just simply stormed off into the sitting area.

Nano nodded at me reassuringly, silently letting me know that she'd handle things.

I headed back inside, feeling bad. I hated hiding things from Mama. I should have told her as soon as I'd found out.

No, you silly walnut, she is stressed enough as it is. You were just thinking about her.

*

I knocked on my mother's bedroom door a couple of hours later.

"Come in." Her voice sounded like she was speaking absent-mindedly.

I opened the door and entered. She was sitting on the bed with her reading glasses on, crossing things off from a list, with packets of women's outfits surrounding her. "What are you doing, Mama?" 

She looked up. "I am labelling each packet and crossing out the name of the person who we've already got an outfit for. Your Kamran Nana has sorted out the outfit for the males, but I am still ensuring that none of the females have been missed."

I pushed some packets aside carefully before sitting on the bed. "Let me help." I held out my hand and she handed me the list:

1) Anaya Bhabi

2) Aizah

3) Hareem

4)Rida

5) Sumaira

6) Dania

7) Rumaisa

"Aizah I added because she's your Nand, but I didn't add anyone else from that generation." Mama explained.

"Mama, why don't you take a little break?" I spoke gently. 

"I'm almost finished with these. No point of a break now."

"I meant, a break for a few days." I explained. "Do other things instead of wedding stuff."

"Hoor, do you know how much responsibility we have as your parents to ensure that everything goes smoothly? I am here in Pakistan and I am going to use every day to the full advantage to ensure that we have done everything that we need to do."

"You came here for a whole month. You can afford a couple of days off." I insisted, reaching out to squeeze her hands. "Please, Mama. I can't see you stressed like this. Nothing is worth seeing you like this. And this stress is the reason we all kept Ro's incident from you, Mama." 

She looked up, her eyes red from unshed tears. "I've let that go. I've spoken to your father and I'm not mad about it anymore. I can see his point. I would have done the same if the roles were reversed."

"Good." I started clearing things away.

"What are you doing, Hoor?" 

"It's late. Go to bed." I ordered her. 

"Hoor, delaying even the smallest task right now can cause delays to other tasks..."

"It's my wedding and I am telling you to rest." I said, my tone still respectful.

"Hoor..." 

I gently made her lie down, pulling the duvet over her. "Good night. Sleep and be refreshed for tomorrow. And remember, at least two days now are wedding-stuff-free days." 

"And who decided that?" 

"I did. The bride-to-be. You need to respect her wishes." I sat down facing her. Leaning down, I kissed her forehead. "I need my mother looking well and rested at my wedding, not overworked and fatigued."

"Oh, Hoor. We as parents do this with great pleasure. Of course it gets tiring, but I won't complain. I'm enjoying these moments as well. The moments that will lead to the day when my  Hoor becomes a bride, In Sha Allah."

"I don't care. I need you to rest and recharge yourself." My eyes widened. "How about we visit Islamabad? Oh my God, that would be so much fun!"

She smiled, but her eyes had drifted shut, exhaustion clearly overwhelming her.

*

"Main yahaan hoon, aap yahaan hain. Kyun na hum yahaan hi shaadi karlain?" I asked almost absent mindedly. I was sitting on the throw cushion by the large narrow floor-to-ceiling window at one end of the bedroom that I occupied at Nano's house.

*"I'm here, you're here. Why don't we just get married here?" 

Farhaan laughed over the video call. "I'm going back the day after tomorrow. Unless you want to fit in all three functions tomorrow?" 

I smiled weakly.

"Why are you saying that, Hoor? Any particular reason?" 

"Mama seems so exhausted and stressed. I'm so worried." I felt my eyes fill up with tears. "I don't want her in this state while organising my wedding."

"Hoor, it's natural for parents to be exhausted and stressed at this time." He spoke gently.

"I know, I get it. But I hate seeing her like this." I paused. "I was thinking of going back home and asking Papa to come here instead. With him around, she'll have less burden." 

"You don't want the three-in-one wedding tomorrow? All exclusive, mehendi-baraat-Valima?" He grinned.

"I wouldn't have minded if my father, my twin, my brothers and my relatives were here. But without them all it's impossible." I glanced at my hand. It seemed dry. I need to remind myself to use a moisturiser. 

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." I called up, looking towards the door.

"Aap soyi nahin abhi tak, meri Hoor Pari?" Nano peeked her head in. "It's almost Fajr time."

*"Haven't you slept till now, my Angel Fairy?" 

I could see Farhaan smirk at that. "No, Nano. Farhaan called, so I was just speaking to him..." I nodded towards my phone.

"Assalam Alaikum, Nano." He called out.

"Walaikum Assalam!" She replied with a knowing smile. "I'll let you two be. But Fajr will start in ten minutes, okay Hoor?" 

"Yes, Nano." After she'd left, I turned to look at him on the phone screen. "Don't start."

"Hoor Pari?" He laughed.

"Okay, that laugh officially sounds offensive! I already am Hoor, why can't I be a Pari too? After all, Nano has always called me and Haya her 'pariyan', her beloved fairies." I frowned.

He feigned dubiousness. "I mean, usually those words are used to describe extreme beauty, so..." 

"I cannot believe you, Farhaan Faiz." I shook my head. "Koi value hi nahin hai is Hoor Pari ki!"

*"This Angel Fairy has no value!"

He laughed harder. "Okay, seriously. I cannot take this seriously." As I narrowed my eyes, his amusement just increased.

*

Anabia

I couldn't sleep. It was all too much for me.

 The long list of tasks yet to be done were staring daggers at me from where my notepad lay on the bedside table, even in the darkness of the room.

The wedding preparation, concern from the respective health of my twin daughters, concern for Rohaan, and just worry about whether I had enough time to get everything done, all of it was slowly eating away at me from the inside, leaving me feel vulnerable.

I lay on my back, sobbing as I placed both hands on my face. Grabbing my phone, paying no regards to the time, I dialled Rehan's number.

"Anya?" He answered sleepily after five rings.

"Aap aajayain yahaan. Mere se ab nahin ho raha sab kuch akele..." I whispered out before my voice broke.

*"You come here. I cannot handle it all alone anymore."

*

I'm trying to highlight the struggle the bride's side faces during weddings. While Anabia is not doing this out of society or in-laws pressure, there are many people who are still in such positions were pressure from all sides surrounds the parents of the bride. It's not right, but it's an unfortunate reality.

Will Rehan come? It might be an obvious question, but the answer might not be as simple...

Thoughts on new entry, Aariz Abdullah? Is he the one for Haya?

The chapter title is based on the twins, since Khadija calls the twins her 'fairies, her pariyan'.

Thoughts and comments?

Thank you for reading and don't forget to vote!