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*

Hooriya

"Is that why I got your missed call in the middle of the night?" Saim Mamu leaned his forearms on his knees as he looked at me in concern.

I nodded.

"Ana, I'm so sorry." Mamu looked at my mother, who sat beside me. "You told me that you and Rehan Bhai were going to be away, but I failed to look out for them."

"Don't be silly, Saim. It's not your fault." Mama sighed. 

"Are you okay though, Hooriya?" Laila Mumani asked in concern as she set a tray of snacks down on the coffee table in front of us.

"Alhumdulillah. I was safe in the car." 

"The police have taken the man into custody. Since he filed a complaint against Hoor, it was easy to track him down." Mama continued.

Me, Haya, Mama and Arsal were at Mamu's house. Rohaan was at a football practice and Papa was at work. 

Arsal was currently playing video games with 'Bunny' in our cousin's room. Bunny was a nickname given to Shayaan when he was born, because he was so small and adorable. And, to his irritation, the nickname had stuck.

"People are so much more wicked now. Using social media to defame innocent people." Mumani shook her head.

"Well, good think Farhaan thought ahead and installed the dash-cam in the car." Mamu said. 

"He's a very sensible, mature man, and there's no doubt in that. Ma Sha Allah." Mama said. "Faiz Bhai and Anaya Bhabi have raised their kids well." 

"If you ever end up in a situation like that, you can call me, okay?" Farhaan had whispered out to me. The memory of the intensity of his gaze in that moment still made me tremble on the inside.

I felt my cheeks warm up and I turned my head and saw my mother look at me knowingly. I blushed harder and turned my head away.

"What happened between him and Sophie? They looked so good together!" Mumani asked Mama.

"He must have had some personal reasons, Laila." Mama replied, simply. "Neither of them look like the type to just end a relationship without a solid reason." 

"Oh, he definitely had a good reason." Haya muttered as she scrolled through her phone.

"Haya, put the phone away. It's not nice to be on the phone when visiting someone." Mama told her off. "

"Don't worry, Anabia. We don't mind." Mamu said. "I'm just glad that the kids blessed us with their presence. I'll deal with Rohaan later."

We all laughed at that. The way Rohaan messed around with everyone, Mamu loved pulling his leg. The two get along like best friends rather than uncle and nephew.

Shayaan came into the room, followed by Arsal. "Arsalan is too boring. I want to play with Rohaan. He is the real challenge."

"Shayaan, be nice!" Mamu glared at him.

"It's not my fault that I don't like those brain-melting video games." Arsal muttered, sitting down and pulling up his earphones that had been slung around his neck.

"Arsal!" Mama placed a hand on her forehead, wearily. "Please remove the earphones. You're sitting amongst everyone. It's not nice." 

Haya smirked at her brother, glad that she was not the only one told off.

"Ana, let them do whatever they want at their Mamu's house. They face enough strictness as their own home." Mamu grinned teasingly at his twin sister.

"I love you, Mamu!" Haya raised both hands to high-five him, which he happily responded to.

"Once a Terror Twin, always a Terror Twin." Mama simply rolled her eyes.

*

Farhaan

I felt restless. Whoever the man was, he had made Hoor feel terrified and anxious. I wanted to beat the hell out of him, but he was in police custody.

"Here." Faizan pointed. "Take your frustration out on this." 

I glanced at the punching bag and looked at my brother. "Are you serious?" 

"Trust me. That's why I brought you here. I can see how p***ed you are that someone messed with Hooriya Bha... I mean, Hooriya." The mischievous grin on Faizan disappeared as I raised my fist up in his direction.

"Chal ja aaithon." I growled at him.

*"Get lost from here."

Chuckling, Faizan left and I stood staring at the punching bag. I looked down at my hand which was still in a fist, and then bent down to pick up the boxing gloves that Faizan had left for me nearby. Putting them on, I took a boxing stance, and punched the punching bag with little power. It swung pathetically, making me chuckle at myself bitterly.

Hooriya was terrified. She was taken to a police station for questioning, despite being innocent. He verbally abused her and threatened her, made her feel unsafe when she was on her own.

This time I packed a powerful punch, my jaw clenching. I repeatedly kept punching, swearing out loud in rage.

For a very long time, I took my frustration out on the punch bag, only calm down when the negative thoughts were replaced with the relieved thoughts that Hooriya was safe and cleared of all charges.

"If you ever end up in a situation like that, you can call me, okay?" 

"Kis haq se?"

I leaned my forehead against the punching bag. Haq to main tumhe saare dena chahta hoon. Aur yeh chahta hoon ke tum pe sirf mera haq ho. 

*I want to give you all the rights. And I want that only I have the right over you.

*

"In real life, you can't beat up villains, Farhaan." Aizah gave me a soft smile as she sipped from her glass of lemonade.

"I can beat up Faizan. Surely that counts." I grinned, looking in the direction of my brother who gave me the middle finger, while our sister laughed.

Faizan lived in his own flat, and there was gym downstairs which he had taken me to earlier. Now us siblings were at his place in the living room.

"Tell me one thing, Farhaan." Aizah looked curious. "This much anger? Any particular reason?" 

"Why wouldn't I be angry? That man almost ruined an innocent girl's life." 

"My spidey-sense is tingling." Aizah's love for superheroes always seemed to come out in form or the other. "This overprotectiveness has a different story behind it, don't you think?" 

"Stop cooking your khayali pillao." I told her.

*Khayali pillao: fanfictions, or wishful stories made up in the head.

"Then you don't mind if Mama asks for her hand in marriage for Faizan?" Aizah continued being a pain in my a**.

"Ugh, why?" Faizan made a face.

"What the f**k is that supposed to me?" I glared at him. "There's nothing wrong with her for you to react that way." 

My siblings exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

"I didn't mean 'Ugh, she's repulsive'. I meant, that I feel that she's meant to be my Bhabi, not my Biwi." Faizan explained.

*Biwi: wife.

"I mean, I get it. I would totally react that way if I had a love of my life, and if he was treated badly by someone." Aizah continued.

"Hoor's not the love of his life, Aizah. Don't be ridiculous." Faizan smirked. "He doesn't look at her like that. In fact, Ana Phupho should ask his opinion when searching for a dulha for Hoor."

*Dulha: groom.

"True. I think Farhaan would thoroughly perform a background check of the guy." Aizah burst out laughing.

Siblings are a form of a worldly punishment for our sins.

"Yeah, he's brotherly towards everyone. He would have been just as angry if Rohaan or Ifra were the ones in Hoor's place, for example."

"I'm leaving." I stood up. "Call me when you get your brains back, although that doesn't seem very likely." 

"Before you go." Faizan also got up to his feet and came to stand right in front of me. "Just admit it. Why are you really feeling so much anger in this situation?"

"Kis haq se?" Hoor's words resonated in my mind once again.

*"With what right?"

"What if the guy gets released?" My brother continued.

"I will not spare him." I replied.

"Why?"

Aizah stood up, her eyes widened as she stared between us brothers.

"Because he f***ing messed with my Hoor." I snapped out.

"Your Hoor?" Faizan questioned me, unfazed.

"What do you want to hear? That I love her? Yes I do. Pyar karta hoon main us say. Itni mohabbat karta hoon ke mera dimagh path raha hai yeh soch soch kar ke us manhoos aadmi ne use kitna daraya aur dhamkaya tha." The words slipped out of my mouth.

*"I love her. I love her so much that my head hurts just thinking about how that wretched man must have scared and threatened her."

"Then why don't you do something about it, Farhaan?" Aizah walked over and placed a hand on my upper arm.

"Because I feel like s**t, okay? I feel guilty because subconsciously and unintentionally, I led Sophie on, when I... I was in denial. Hoor is too young. I kept pushing the thought out of my mind, even though she was over eighteen when I realised how much she meant to me. Hoor deserves someone much better. Sophie deserves someone much better."

"Great. You drown in self-loathing. We'll do what needs to be done." Faizan said with determination. "Aizah, talk to Mama." As I opened my mouth to protest, he held up a hand. "Bro, you have wasted enough time. You think she's amazing, she's special, right? You want to waste more time until someone else comes along?" 

Aizah smiled. "Farhaan, I have to say this. You are an award-winning idiot. It's blatantly obvious to the whole flippin' world that you and Hoor are in love, but you two have either been acting clueless, or you're genuinely naïve people." 

"This is one sided, Aizah. Hoor is not in love with me."

They exchanged a look.

"Chalo, Aizah. Inke hisse ki akal hum donon istemal karlete hain." Faizan sighed dramatically.

*"Let's go, Aizah. We'll both use his share of intelligence."

 *

Hooriya

"I'll have to decline the offer, I'm afraid." I spoke on the phone. "I have received a much better offer, but thank you." I ended the call.

I had received the call from the university who had revoked my offer, but I had also received an email from the university where I'd studied, and they wanted me to also do a teaching qualification when I started, and could be done as I started shadowing lecturers and doing  other assisting duties that would help me learn more about the job. Apparently, I'd received a brilliant reference from one of my English lecturers, and over all my lecturers and tutors have praised me and recommended me. It was a decent salary, and the contract was much better than the previous one. 

It is true that whatever Allah does is for our best. 

I squealed in excitement and headed out of my room, running towards Papa's study. "PAPA!" I burst into the room and ran up to him as he sat behind his desk.

He raised both eyebrows in surprise as I grabbed his arm and pulled him up. "Hoor, you feeling okay?" 

"I got an amazing job offer from my own university, Papa!" Squealing again, I hugged him. "Alhumdulillah."

"Ma Sha Allah!" His voice reflected his happiness and pride. "I knew it, Hoor. My intelligent daughter is capable of getting a good job anywhere, Ma Sha Allah!"

"My lecturers and tutors praised me so much!" I couldn't stop smiling. "I have to tell Mama! We have to have a treat today!" I leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I love you. Thank you for making me fall in love with English!"

He chuckled as I ran out of the room.

As I came downstairs, Rohaan was coming in. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind, but I ignored everything and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Rohaan! I'm so happy today! Alhumdulillah! You'll never guess what happened?" 

"You got offered a good job?" He patted the back of my head almost begrudgingly.

I looked up at him, surprised. "How did you know?" 

"Because I just knew you would." He gave me a proud smile. "If anyone could be a lecturer, it would be you, no doubt. The amount of talking that you..." He laughed as I smacked his arm. As I frowned up at him, he laughed again. "Relax, Hoor. I'm kidding. Well done." 

"I have to go tell Mama!" I raced away again. "MAMA!" 

My mother was loading the laundry into the washing machine and looked up with me as I came in. "Hoor?" 

I threw my arms around her, almost making her stumble. "I love you so, so much, Mama." 

"Enough to help me with the laundry?" She asked, drily, but she hugged me back tightly. "I love you too, Hoor."

"With your and Papa's duas, and the love and support of my family, I got offered a wonderful job at my own uni." I told her, my hands on her upper arms. I couldn't keep the grin off my face. "I almost thought that my life was ruined, but..." I felt tears in my eyes. "If it wasn't for that dash-cam footage, Mama, I don't know what would have happened to me." 

"Oh, Hoor. Allah would have created another means to help you because you were innocent, and you have the purest of intentions regarding everything." She whispered. "But the means that Allah created for you this time cleared not just your name, but many other things."

My gaze lowered, and I felt my cheeks warm up.

"I'm so, so proud of you, meri jaan. May Allah give you all the success and happiness in the world. Ameen." She kissed my cheek.

Ameen.

*

I clutched my book against my chest as I sat in bed.

"Farhaan found out about your case, and as he was having your car fixed, he immediately brought over the camera."

He came instantly to get me out of trouble, as he always did.

I closed my eyes as a small shy smile appeared on my lips. Taking a deep content sigh, I opened my eyes...

...and screamed.

Haya stood right in front of me by the bed, smirking at me.

"What the hell, Haya?" I shrieked, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her.

She caught it and giggled. "Congratulations on the job." She sat down beside me, shoving me over to give herself more space.

"Thanks. Now go away." I muttered.

"Aizah Appi and I had a very interesting conversation." She spoke thoughtfully. "It made my mind start spinning rapidly as well."

"What?" I looked at her, curiously.

"Just." She shrugged. "About this...and that..." 

"Don't waste my time. Go bother someone else."

"Why? I'm wasting your daydreaming time?" She teased me.

"I'm not daydreaming. I'm just thinking about how my work routine would be like." I replied.

"While blushing and smiling like a new bride?" My twin wasn't fooled. "Don't close your eyes, Hoor. Open them. See the obvious. Don't deny it, accept it." She stood up. "Think about when you realised that it was much more than just a crush..." She walked out of the room without waiting for my answer, closing the door behind her.

I closed my eyes again.

*

I was nineteen and while we were at Hareem Khalla's house, I was throwing out some crumbs for the pigeons. "I know, you guys fly and search for food all day. It must be exhausting." I glanced up at the sky and returned to sit on the outdoor chair to await the arrival of the hungry birds.

And they arrived in no time, as I was far enough away for them not to be afraid of me. I watched with a smile as the pigeons pecked at the crumbs, making soft cooing noises. 

But then I saw a cat, someone's pet, walking around the wall at the perimeter of the garden, eyeing the pigeons with a predatory look. "No! Shoo! Go away!" I shouted out, scaring the pigeons in the process.

The cat just meowed, licking its lips(?) as it eyed me lazily, as if challenging me to stop it.

"Let them eat, man! You stuff your face all day at various people's homes, now let them eat!" I couldn't believe that I was having an argument with a cat. When the cat refused to move, I got irritated. "Go away, you ladaki billi! Let them come and eat!"

*Ladaki billi: a cat always ready to fight.

"Shoo!" I walked over and even tried to scare it off the wall using my dupatta.

Hoor, what in Allah's name are you doing? My internal voice questioned myself, and I couldn't help laughing. Placing my hand over my eyes, I laughed, my cheeks warm with embarrassment.

"I see only one 'ladaki billi' here." An amused voice came from behind me.

I turned to see Farhaan walking towards me. "What is that supposed to mean?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you calling me 'ladaki'?"

"I was talking about the 'billi', i.e. the cat." He smirked. "Although... it might be applicable to you too." 

"Careful. This cat might scratch." I held up my hands and was further embarrassed when I saw that my nails were cut neatly... in fact, I had pink glittering nail polish on, thanks to little Yamna.

While we were having a conversation, a pigeon had landed a few feet away and was sneakily eating up the crumbs before its companions arrived. The cat lifted up its head as it noticed the pigeon. With a yowl, it jumped off the wall and pounced at the pigeon. I screamed. "No!" 

The pigeon flew up, fluttering its wings.

"Are you actually glaring at the cat?" Farhaan chuckled.

"The cat is being very selfish. It won't let the pigeons eat." 

The cat remained there, meowing softly. Farhaan bent down and rubbed a hand over its head. "The cat is acting per its nature, Hoor." As he ran his fingers through its fur, it purred in content. 

"Can I use that excuse for Rohaan?" I asked.

He laughed. "Of course. I use it for Faizan all the time." He looked at me. "Want to touch it?"

"I'm a nemesis for it. It will scratch me." 

"Come on."

I crouched down beside him and with a trembling hand, patted the cat's head, almost fearing it to attack me. But as my fingers sank into its soft fur, the cat purred. "Oh my God. It's purring. It likes it." 

"Her name is Kit-Kat. She often comes over to Phupho's house."  He kept his gaze on her.

"Kit-Kat?" I giggled.

"Blame Ifra."

I looked at him. He was so sweet and gentle with the ladaki billi. I couldn't help smiling. "I feel bad for the pigeons. All they want is food, but they keep getting scared off by someone."

"Birds are not as helpless and pitiful as they seem either. They find a way to eat, don't worry. Each species is blessed with reflexes and natural instincts that help them find food." He glanced at me. "I also know for the fact that Kit-Kat has had kittens recently, and it takes food back to them." 

In the moment, my heart melted towards the cat. And it got more attached to the man who was showing so much humanity towards the cat.

*

Farhaan

Seeing Hooriya whirling around happily in the white traditional dress was the exact moment which I could pinpoint in our history where I had felt my feelings increase for her. 

Ifra was making her take a photo shoot under the tree with the orange and white flowers, and in a filmy scene, soft petals occasionally rained down on her as the breeze ruffled through the trees. 

"I feel so dramatic!" Hoor complained to Ifra.

"You look beautiful, and these photos are so amazing! Ma Sha Allah!" Ifra replied.

Hoor stood still, panting a little, her jhumka earrings brushing the side of her face.

"Jaan lene ke irade lag rahe hain aaj..." The words slipped out of my mouth in a whisper, and it happened almost subconsciously.

*"It seems that she has an intention of taking my life today..."

The way her hair fell in waves over the side of her face, the way she laughed as Ifra took their selfie. 

I thought of a quote that Mama and Aizah often read aloud from one of their favourite books: "She was in a queen in her own right, but the traditional outfit was like a glittering crown that completely her regal appearance." 

I jolted out of my thoughts as I remembered that I had to call Sophie to confirm my family's plans with her family for dinner in a few days.

*

PRESENT

I came out of the mosque after jummah along with Faizan, both of us dressed in traditional white shalwar kameez.

We saw Rohaan and Arsalan also coming out. Rohaan was talking to someone on the phone using his airpods, while Arsalan just walked with his shoulders hunched.

"Yo, Ro-Salan!" Faizan called out and waved over the two brothers.

"S'up?" Rohaan immediately ended the call and walked over to us, followed by the youngest Rehan sibling. "Assalam Alaikum."

We call greeted each other.

"How's family?" Faizan asked. "How's Bha..." He shut up as he saw me glare at him.

"Alhumdulillah, family is all good." Rohaan replied.

"Hoor doing okay now?" I asked.

"She's created chaos over the house with her excitement. She got a much better offer from her university, Alhumdulillah." Rohaan smiled. 

Ma Sha Allah. May Allah give her more and more success. Ameen. "That's good to hear."

"Wow, Ma Sha Allah! Everyone who loves her must be so proud of her, right?" Faizan looked pointedly at me.

Again, siblings are worldly punishments for our sins.

"I've always told her that she's made for this professions. God, she talks so much that I need a painkiller to relieve me of that headache." Rohaan grinned.

"Funny, because for me it's your voice that's equivalent to someone scratching their nails on a blackboard." Arsal glanced up at him.

Faizan laughed and I smiled while Rohaan punched his brother on the arm.

"Congratulate Hoor on my behalf." I told Rohaan. 

"You don't have her number?" Faizan asked me teasingly.

I sighed, mentally replacing the punching bag with the face of my irritating younger brother.  

*

Hooriya

"Hoor, come on! You're taking too long!" Mama called out.

My loving, adoring family (Ma Sha Allah), had organised a dinner at a restaurant to celebrate my freedom from the legal drama, plus my new (and better) job offer.

Wearing a long black Anarkali dress with black trousers that had golden floral prints at the end, I admired my traditional look. I loved desi style. Putting on my jhumka earrings and golden sandals that I'd brought from Pakistan, I looked at myself in the mirror. 

"Aajao, dinner hai... baraat nahin!" Haya called out, teasingly.

*"Come, it's dinner... not your wedding!"

I turned to face her. She wore black jeans and a black lace kurta. That was the most she agreed to do, otherwise she was going to wear a hoodie with jeans and trainers. While her hair was in a ponytail, mine was curled and rested on my shoulders. She had no make-up on, while I had mascara, eyeliner and a natural shade of lip-gloss on. We were twins, but we were completely opposite.

"You are going with the parents. I'm going with the brothers." She informed me.

"Why? What did I do?" I asked. I loved my parents; I'd give my life for them with a smile on my face. But when they were in one of their moods, I did not want to be in the backseat. Ma Sha Allah! May Allah protect them from evil eyes. Ameen. But...no. 

"I don't know. That's what they want." She shrugged, giving me an evil grin. "See you at the restaurant."

I sighed and followed her downstairs, where the rest of our family was waiting. 

"Come on." Papa wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"Am I being punished?" I cheekily asked him. "If I wanted to witness romance, I'd go watch a romantic film."

"Hoor!" Mama lightly slapped my arm.

I giggled.

*

But it turned out that there was an actual reason my parents wanted to take me with them, alone.

The three of us didn't go directly to the restaurant, but instead, Papa drove us to a scenic spot at the edge of the river Thames, and we got out out there.

"Why are we here? Are we not getting late?" I asked.

We walked out onto a deck, and stood by the railings and watched the streetlights reflect on the water. Mama was dressed in a stunning black sari, while Papa wore a suit with a tie. Clearly we were going to a fancy restaurant.

"Hoor, we have to talk to you." My mother took my hand. "As hard as it was for Rehan to digest this topic, it's important for us to discuss this with you."

"What?" 

She looked at him, before turning back to me again. "I know what you're feeling very well. Initially, it was just a feeling, but I am confirmed now. And whatever it is, isn't one-sided."

*

It was Eid. I was all dressed up in the peach peplum shirt with silver and pink embroidery and peach bellbottom-style shalwar. 

I ran downstairs of my home and almost ran into Farhaan in the foyer, dressed in all black shalwar-kameez. "A-Assalam Alaikum." I whispered.

"Walaikum Assalam. Eid Mubarak, Hooriya." He gave me a warm smile.

"Eid Mubarak."

Our gazes locked only briefly, but I felt myself enchanted completely, deeply attracted to him.

*

I blinked at my parents. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean that Rehan and I will talk to Faiz Bhai and Anaya Bhabi if this is your wish, Hooriya." Mama squeezed my hands. She took me aside, nodding at Papa, as if this was a plan of theirs or something. "I'll ask you privately, because often girls feel shy admitting this in front of their father. Do you like Farhaan?" 

I looked up at her, before my gaze went to the twinkling lights over her shoulder.

*

"I will like to announce that my son Farhaan will be marrying Sophie Khan, In Sha Allah." Faiz Uncle announced, beaming at his eldest son.

I finally knew then what a shattering heart felt like. I could practically hear it cry out in grief.

And as everyone made duas and gave their blessings to Farhaan and Sophie, I silently said 'Ameen' to all, before escaping the room.

I'd never cried the way I'd cried that night.

*

"Hooriya?" Mama's soft voice brought me back to Earth.

I looked towards Papa, who was now standing with his back towards us, then I returned my gaze to my mother. "Whatever you and Papa feel is right for me, I am willing to do."

"I love you so much for respecting our wishes, my sweetheart, but your choice matters too. What you want is important to us, and I am giving you the opportunity to express your wishes. But trust me, your father and I will have no issues with your rishta with Farhaan Faiz."

"I don't want to impose myself on him. I don't want him to feel obliged, simply because of the decades' long friendship between the families."

"I have a feeling that you are very wrong in thinking that you'll be imposed on him." She gave me a knowing smile. "And trust me, meri jaan, I wouldn't say this if I wasn't a hundred percent certain."

"I want to perform Istikhara." I told her.

She looked proud of me. "Of course."

I walked over to Papa, and wrapped my arms around his waist. "Do you get a good feeling about this?" 

He looked down at me. "If I didn't, I'd never agree to it. What's more precious than a daughter? And I wouldn't just give my daughter away to anyone, right?" 

"Well... Haya..." I grinned.

"You cheeky girl." Mama shook her head. "Haya has been Daddy's Girl since day one. I don't know if it was coincidence or not, but she peed on my hand at least twice when I was making fun of or teasing your father."

"Not me?" I pouted up at him.

"You and Haya are both my life." He said. "Your mother tries to cause rifts between us because she's jealous." 

Mama gasped and I burst out laughing. My mother frowned and looked at him in disapproval. "I hope your sons mean something to you two. Mere bechare bete."

*"My poor sons."

Papa just smiled. "I mean, you can't help but love your flesh and blood, so it's not like I have a choice."

I laughed harder and Mama glared at him, being all protective over her beloved boys.

Papa glanced at the time on his wristwatch. "Let's go. We're getting late." He walked forward and wrapped an arm around my mother. "Don't worry, Anya. Somewhere deep, deep down, I love you too." They started walking towards the car, and I smiled.

Turning back to face the lights reflecting on the water, I thought things through. I glanced up heavenwards. A gentle breeze blew around me, lifting up my hair softly, playing with my earrings that felt cool against my skin.

I closed my eyes and whispered out his name. "Farhaan..." 

A soft wish escaped my heart and floated up towards the heavens. An innocent, pure wish made from the bottom of my heart. May our union be what's best for the both of us, Allah. Ameen.

"Mohabbat hai mujhe unse. Laikin kya woh mujhe qabool karainge?" I wondered out loud.

*"I love him. But would he accept me?" 

The answer to that question was closer to me than I'd even realised.

*

A little more background on the Farhaan and Hoor story.

But would everything go as planned?

Are they meant to be, or will there be more hurdles along the way?

Thoughts and comments?

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