Salaam everyone! Thanks for following me on over to my new story! If you have yet to read the first book in the series, Once Upon Qadr, that's probably because you didn't get a chance to read it before I took it down to rewrite it!

Never fear, you can read this one first and read OUQ as a prequel when I finish it! Or if you really can't stand spoilers I guess you'll have to wait *sad Houssami face*

Also, I am EDITING this story. I am not taking the entire book down, but will be editing it chapter by chapter.

#StayAwesome

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The flashes of what felt like millions of cameras blinded him as he stepped out onto the court, and the sounds of screaming fans filled his ears like the roar of an angry wave. It was almost like a dream, it was completely unreal. His teammates took their positions around him and it took him a second before he remembered he was going for the jump shot. He lined up opposite the opposing team's jumper, shook hands with the man, and stood tensed, ready to grab the ball. It was his first time playing, and he needed to prove that he was worthy enough to be on such a great team...

"Mr. Shaykh! Mr. Shaykh! Is it true you are being courted by both the Knicks and the Bulls for next season?"

Houssam was jolted out of his memories by one of the reporters asking him a question. He was at a press conference that was taking place before his second to last game of the season, and he was most anxious for it to be over. When the reporter repeated her questions, he leaned in close to his microphone.

"I am sorry," his voice came out slightly hoarse as if he was still muddled from his daydream. "I am not able to discuss it at this moment."

The cameras around him began to click furiously, and he resisted the urge to close his eyes against the blinding lights and the aggressive shouts of the reporters as they all clamored to get his attention.

"Mr. Shaykh! Do you feel it will be weird playing again after taking time off?"

Houssam and his parents had recently gone to Algeria to visit family, and he had been so excited to have this much needed break! The whole trip there, he had been imagining how amazing it would be to take a break, kick back and relax, and be in a place that not many people would recognize him.

Or so he had thought.

What Houssam had failed to realize, was that he was now the token star, the beacon of hope for the Algerian people.  He was someone who was so successful, so famous and well known, and he did it all while being in an environment and career where drinking, drugs, sex, and many other things were not only normalized, but pushed. And it was because of his ability to say 'no', and to hold tightly to the rope of Allah (swt), that many Muslims around the world were happy to claim him as their representative. It was a tremendous honor, but also something very scary, and he only hoped he would be able to live up to their image, and expectations of him.

Whenever a Muslim supporter came up to him and praised him, and commented on the amazing person and Muslim that he was, he always made sure that he said the Du'aa by Abu Bakr (RA),

'Oh Allah, you know me better than I know myself, and I know myself better than these people who praise me. Make me better than what they think of me, forgive those sins of mine of which they have no knowledge, and do not hold me responsible for what they say.'

Ameen

So after almost his entire vacation of signing autographs, taking pictures, playing with little kids, smiling and listening to sobbing mothers and grandmothers praise him and make Du'aa for him, and talking to random people on random cell phones so that those around him could prove that it was really him, he was definitely happy to be back home! He had barely been able to hang out with his family and eat some food! But he just didn't want to be at this press conference...

"Not at all."

"You aren't worried about how your trip has affected your playing?"

Houssam let out an internal sigh. He hated this part of his job, standing in front of a mountain of reporters, and having them badger him with questions and blind him with flashing cameras. If he could just travel with the team and play games and then come back home, totally avoiding the press, paparazzi, interviews, and everything else associated with them, he would. Thankfully the season was almost over, he had just another two games to get through, and he would be in his old room, in his old house, living his old life, and fitting in with everyone.

Well as much as an internationally known basketball star could fit in...

"Taking a trip for a week did not make me forget how to play basketball, I promise." He said sarcastically, and the reporters laughed even though he wasn't trying to be funny.

"Mr. Shaykh, is it true you are in negotiations for a higher salary?"

Houssam stole a quick glance at his manager and as Harold gave a small shake of his head, he turned back to the reporter.

"I am sorry, I cannot disclose that information at this time."

"Is there a special lady in your life!?" a woman in a neon blue dress called in a flirty voice, and as the rest of the press tittered, Houssam tensed as he often did when someone mentioned his 'love' life. Though if he was being honest, he would rather them focus on his non existent love life, than drag his family and friends into the limelight. Though it would be almost impossible to keep them out of it with how much of a celebrity he was, luckily the paparazzi weren't really interested in them unless Houssam was there, but once in a while a stray member of the media would start to harass them. The good news though, was that his father's ophthalmology business was better than ever! Everyone wanted their eyes checked by the father of the star of the Lakers.

"I do not comment on my personal life." He responded coolly, darting his eyes over at Harold, and trying to silently beg him to end the conference early. His manager however, was too busy typing away on his phone, and Houssam sighed, pointing at a man in a black baseball hat.

"Do you plan on going back to Santa Barbara after the season is over?" he asked, and though Houssam felt his irritation spike, he literally like five seconds ago had just told them he didn't comment on his personal life, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of his favorite sister Yusra, and her son. Baby Kareem was a happy, loving, little child and at the age of one and a half, he had started walking, and saying a few words, and he called his Khalo Houssam 'Moo Sam'. While Houssam didn't get to spend a lot of time with Yusra, her husband Amir, and Kareem, he called every night, saw them on video chat, and always sent surprises and gifts. He wanted to make sure he was a presence in his nephew's life, even if he couldn't be there all the time.

"My plans aren't finalized as of now," he responded, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, and as Harold gave him a thumbs up of approval, Houssam began to send 'save me' mind vibes, and Harold tapped his watch, before holding up five fingers, indicating that there were five minutes left.

"Mr. Shaykh, can you tell us what the team's plan is for the next two games?"

"Mr. Shaykh, do you think the Rockets have any chance at all of qualifying next season?"

"Mr. Shaykh, is there any truth to the rumors that Freddy Crewe is going to be transferring to the Celtics?"

And so on went the questions that the press knew Houssam couldn't talk about, but they pressed him anyways, hoping for a slip up, anything that they could use to their advantage. 

"Mr. Shaykh what are your thoughts on what is happening right now overseas?"

Great.

That's all he needed. Less than a minute left, and they throw him a highly controversial topic where they would probably take his answers and twist them out of context.

To Houssam's relief, Harold came to his rescue, and stepped up to the microphone.

"Just a reminder to everyone, that Mr. Shaykh does not answer political questions. We will have to end this session here as he needs to get ready for the game."

As Houssam made his way off the platform, the cameras began to flash in overtime and his bodyguard had to push back a few people as he tried to get through the door. He had been famous for years now, but he still hadn't gotten used to all of the people fawning over him and screaming his name. He probably would never be completely used to it if he was honest. It made him feel uncomfortable and it felt awkward, especially with his female fans who more often than not tried to touch him, especially if they tried to take a picture with him. Luckily his body guard, Jay, was good at spotting these pushy fans and would often intervene before they got too close to him.

As he made his way back to the locker room, he felt his phone buzz, and as he took it out of his Knicks sweatshirt pocket, he smiled widely to see it was his sister.

"Yusra!" he exclaimed happily, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he made his way towards the locker room. It had been years since he had joined the NBA, and not a day went by that he didn't miss her. He missed her husband Amir and his other best friend Hisham too of course, but his sister was his very best friend and he trusted her more than anyone.

"Salaam Houssami! How's my big star doing?"

"I'm good Alhamdulillah! I'm about to start a game right now."

"Of course I know you are! Amir and the rest of the Halaqah are having a party here to watch you!"

Houssam felt a pang in his heart at the thought of his old Halaqah getting together without him.

Soon In Shaa Allah.

Soon he would be with them again.

"That's great," he said flatly, " say Salaam to everyone."

"Aw Houssami, what's wrong?" she asked, and despite himself, he had to smile. She always knew how he was feeling just by hearing his voice.

"Nothing."

"You aren't having a good time?" she asked in concern.

"No of course I am. I'm doing what I love for a living. It just gets lonely sometimes. I love my teammates like my brothers, but they aren't you guys, I miss all of you so much."

"In Shaa Allah you will be home soon and then get so bored of us!"

"I would never get bored of everyone! Maybe you," he teased, "but not everyone!"

"Hey!" she exclaimed, feigning offense, and they both laughed.

"How's my nephew doing?" he asked, smiling as he heard the baby screeching in the background.

"He's a troublemaker, just like his Khalo, but he is well Alhamdulillah! The other day he was asking for you for almost two hours, and wouldn't be quiet until Amir played one of your interviews!"

"Aw," Houssam said with a wistful grin, "I'm surprised he remembers me. Isn't he a little young for that?"

"Some people might say he is, but he definitely knows who you are, recognizes you when you are on television, and talks about you a lot."

"Shaykh! Get your butt in uniform!" Coach barked as he stuck his head in the locker room. Houssam gave his coach a thumbs up, before he opened his locker, and pulled out his uniform and sneakers.

"Sorry Yusra I have to go get dressed for the game. I'll call you when I get to the hotel In Shaa Allah."

"Okay little bro, I'm so proud of you! I love you!"

"Love you too big sis!" he hung up his phone, and once he had changed into his uniform, he stood in front of his locker, staring absently at the shoes he held in his hands.

"Why the long face Shaykh?"

He closed his locker door, and gave his friend, Freddy Crewe, a wistful smile.

"I dunno Crewe," he said with a sigh, plunking down on the bench and pulling on his shoes, "I think I am just anxious for the season to be over. My favorite sister had a baby more than a year ago and I've only seen the kid twice, my friends are all together right now and even though they are doing it to watch me play, I wish I was with them. I think I am just ready to go home."

Crewe nodded before pulling his jersey over his head.

"I know what you mean. My brother Ricky just graduated from high school, and I missed it." he gave a sad shake of his head. "I know he understood why I couldn't be there, but I also know he was hurt by it. It sucks sometimes being away from everyone."

"It really does. Just two more games then we will be back with our families! We can do it bro!"

His friend smiled widely at him.

"Let's do it!"

"Alright boys! Gather round!" the Coach bellowed, and the team all came together in a circle, putting their arms around each other's shoulders as they always did in their pregame rituals.

"Okay boys, we have nothing to fear with these guys. I know they are the Spurs and all but we are the Lakers! We are the team! We have been unbeatable so far and I know, I just know that next week's championship is ours! Shaykh, say that thing that you always say!"

Houssam smiled.

"In Shaa Allah."

"Yes!" the Coach exclaimed, "Injallah! Injallah we will win! Now come on boys, go out there and give it your all! Teamwork is what I am looking for tonight! There is no 'I' in team! Now everyone's hands in, and teamwork on three! One, two, three..."

"TEAMWORK!" everyone exclaimed, throwing their hands in the air, before jogging out of the locker room in a single file line. As they waited just outside the stadium doors to be announced, Houssam felt the familiar pre jitters butterflies in his stomach. He had played more games than he would be able to count without sitting down with a paper and pen or a calculator, but he never failed to get nervous before each one. After all this was the big leagues.

This was the NBA.

"Here he is, the star player of the LA Lakers, HOOZAM SHAYK!"

And apparently he was the star.

Houssam jogged out into the arena, the stands filled with fans, their screams deafening to his ears. He ran out into the middle of the court behind Freddy, waving to everyone and pumping his fists in the air. Secretly he found this part of hyping up the crowd silly, but his manager had warned him he had to appear as likable as possible if he wanted to win MVP again. To be honest he didn't really care about it, he had six MVP pins at home, losing only twice in his whole career, and that had been because he had injured his ankle during his fourth year, and had to sit out two games, and had had to get surgery his fifth year to fix his damaged ankle, and had missed half the season. As he now took his usual spot for the jump shot, he was the tallest on the team and was always the one who was the jumper, he glanced around the arena, thinking again about his first game.

He dashed down court dribbling the ball, and sidestepped the man who was guarding him, before coming face to face with two other opponents. He was boxed in, and there was no way to pass the ball to a teammate. His only choice was to make the shot even though he was at half court. It would be suicide to try and attempt a shot so far away from the basket but he had no choice. He threw the ball, and a collective gasp went through the arena, all eyes following that swirling orange ball...

The referee's whistle brought him back to the present, and he shook hands with the man jumping for the other team, Carey Woods, who was actually a good friend of his.

"Ready for me to kick your butt Shaykh?" Carey asked with a grin, and Houssam laughed.

"In your dreams Woods!"

"May the best man win!"

"I plan to!" Houssam joked and Carey laughed before the referee blew his whistle again and threw the ball in the air. Houssam, having a height advantage, touched the ball a second before Carey, and threw it to Freddy who instantly set out down the court. Houssam ran down the court, Carey sticking to him like glue. He hurriedly side stepped him, caught the ball as Freddy threw it to him, and immediately dunked it in the net, causing the crowd to go wild.

"And only a few seconds into the game and Shaykh already made a shot!" the announcer exclaimed, and Houssam mouthed a 'Ma Shaa Allah' to himself before setting back down towards the other side. He made three more baskets by the time the other team's coach called for a time out, and as he and the rest of his team gathered around their own coach, Houssam glanced around the arena, listening to all of the people chanting his name and his jersey number.

He had never felt more alone