THE BOY NEXT DOOR

Night has descended upon the sprawling metropolis of Los Angeles, casting a shroud of darkness over the city. However, in a quiet corner of the city, away from the hustle and bustle, a shabby building bustles with activity. The dilapidated structure is surrounded by several motorcycles parked haphazardly; their engines still hot from use. At first glance, the building looked abandoned, with the shadows of the trees and the darkness of the night hiding it from view. However, upon closer inspection, the true nature of the place became apparent. The sounds of hushed whispers and clinking glasses can be heard from inside, as well as the muffled thuds of a makeshift fighting ring. Despite its unassuming exterior, this building is a hub of illegal activity, drawing in adrenaline junkies and high-stakes gamblers from all over the city. Inside, a ring was set up in the middle of the room, surrounded by rows of folding chairs and makeshift tables littered with betting slips and cash. The

Maya Suri stirred in her sleep as sunlight streamed in through an open window and fell upon her face. She lay on the cold, hardwood floor, just beneath the window from where she had watched Liam last night. The harsh light was disturbing. It finally got her to open her eyes and cast her weary gaze around the room. It took a moment for her to come to her senses and figure out where she was. She quickly sat up in a state of panic. Last night’s cringe-worthy events and the close shave she had come flooding back. Still in panic, she quickly checked the bolt of the door just to make sure it was locked. That it had indeed been locked all night. When she found it securely bolted, she leaned onto the door with her back, sighed in relief, and sank to the floor. Safe. Yes. For now. What worried her was this - she couldn’t hide in here forever. “Maya…” Dread washed over Maya’s pale face. It was her mother’s call from downstairs. She fidgeted a bit and wondered what to do. If only she could w

Liam gazed at the curtains fluttering at Maya’s window; his thoughts consumed by what he had just witnessed. To him, she was just another neighbor, someone who happened to live in the house next door. He never really paid much attention to her before. But now, after seeing what her father had done to her, everything started to shift. He didn't know what to do, or how to help her. But one thing was certain: he felt disgusted. Disgusted by what she had been forced to endure. Liam's thoughts shifted to his encounter with Maya that morning. He remembered how she seemed to be running away from something or someone, and he couldn't help but wonder if it had been her father. The way she had flinched when he touched her made him uneasy. Was it fear or just her natural shyness? Now, witnessing what her father was doing to her, Liam couldn't shake off the feeling that Maya had been trying to escape from this man. He felt a fierce protectiveness surge within him, one that he had never fel

Liam walked out of the principal's office; his eyes fixed in the distance as he tried to process the suspension. As he walked past Abby, she looked up at him in awe, impressed by the way he had stood up for Maya. But Liam didn't even notice her, lost in his own thoughts. Just then, Maya burst out of the office, her eyes searching for Liam. "Liam!" she called out, her voice shaky with emotion. He slowly stopped and glanced at her; his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," Maya spoke after a lot of hesitation, wringing her hands nervously. Liam was a little surprised but did a good job at hiding it. He didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue. As they stood there, some students passed by and commented on Liam's fight with the jocks. "Dude, you were so cool!" one of them said. "We didn't know you could do that," another added. “You were a beast, man!” one of them exclaimed. "Jake deserved it, that guy's a total jerk," said another. Liam didn't react to the comments,

Maya stood at the stove, carefully stirring the dal, her mind lost in a world of its own. The kitchen enveloped her in its familiar warmth, occasionally punctuated by the gentle sizzle of spices. In the adjacent room, her mother lay in bed, an unchanging routine they both had grown accustomed to. But then, a nostalgic aroma drifted into the kitchen, pulling Maya back into the past. It was the same scent that used to fill their home when her real father, Sanjay Sharma, was alive. The memories rushed back like a flood - the laughter, the outings, and the family dinners at the Chinese restaurant, indulging in sweet corn chicken soup, chicken fried rice, and Gobi Manchurian. Her heart ached for those times when they were complete, united, and happy. But life had taken a different turn, leaving her with a stepfather, Manoj Suri, who was nothing less than a nightmare. Just then, the front door creaked open, and Manoj entered the kitchen, carrying takeout bags. He looked oddly content wit