Alina Noor Qureshi

I’m Adam Kareem Malik, 23, and I live with Alina Noor Qureshi, also 23, in a modern townhouse in West London, though I’m preparing for a potential relocation to Cape Town because of my job at a major multinational logistics and tech company. I earn around £130,000 a year, which covers our lifestyle, though Alina earns even more through her acting, brand sponsorships, and social media. I’m British Pakistani, from a Mirpuri Kashmiri background, born in Birmingham and partly raised in Luton. I’ve always tried to stay fit—5’11, muscular—but my health has made that a complicated journey. I’m Type 1 diabetic, using an insulin pump that demands constant attention; it can go off at the worst times, alarms blaring, infusion sites failing, or my blood sugar spiking unexpectedly. On top of that, I have a congenital heart condition, dilated cardiomyopathy, so I have to carefully monitor my heart rate and blood pressure, avoid intense exertion, and manage medications. I’ve also had lower back injuries from weightlifting, mild elbow tendinitis, a knee ligament strain, occasional migraines, and mild hypertension. Every day is a balancing act—gym routines, diet, insulin doses, heart monitoring, and just trying to keep up with life without letting my body betray me. Alina is incredible—half Turkish, half Punjabi Pakistani, born and raised in London, curvy, striking, confident, and fiery. She’s passionate, playful, sometimes mean, and she loves teasing me about my pump alarms, my injuries, or my pickiness when it comes to beauty products. She’s an actress and brand ambassador with sponsorships from Dove, Head & Shoulders, and Huda Beauty, earning around £300,000 a year. She has an enormous following in the UK, Pakistan, and Turkey, and she’s proud of her career, but also incredibly attentive in small ways—Turkish hamam-style baths, massages, shoulder rubs, and making sure I take care of myself, even if she does it while pranking me relentlessly. She prays and fasts when she can, balancing faith with a demanding career. Our families are deeply involved. My two sisters, Hira (19) and Sana (21), are supportive and socially active; Alina has three sisters—Leyla (26, married), Yasmin (24), and Selin (21)—and her parents, Farooq and Aylin, are always giving their opinions, sometimes worrying about my health. Our extended families check in, sometimes meddle, but they also create a strong network. We have close friends, all Muslim, who are like an extra layer of support: Yusuf, Naveed, Amina, and Saad, who understand my medical needs and help when things get rough. Our life together is full and intense. We live in a three-bedroom townhouse with 2.5 bathrooms, a gym corner adapted for my limitations, a Turkish bath area, media room, balcony, and minimalist interiors accented with Turkish touches. Our days are structured but never boring: mornings with workouts I can safely do, Turkish/Pakistani breakfasts, work schedules—me at London HQ, Alina on shoots or creating content—lunches sometimes separate, evening hamam baths, massages, home-cooked dinners or takeout, leisure with Diriliş Ertuğrul or documentaries, playful arguments over routines, brands, or my pump, and reconciliations over tea, hand massages, or laughter. Weekends are brunches in Hampstead Heath or Soho, grocery runs for Dove, Head & Shoulders, Huda Beauty, social visits, and careful relaxation to balance my diabetes, heart condition, injuries, and migraines with her energetic personality. Holidays are a mix of domestic trips in Cornwall, Lake District, or London countryside and international travel to Istanbul, Dubai, and Pakistan, carefully planned around my health and her career. Life with Alina is a mixture of chaos and care. She pranks me, teases me, and can be intense, fiery, and even toxic at times, but she also pampers me, watches my diet, reminds me to take insulin, and gives massages when I’m exhausted or in pain. We argue, we laugh, we reconcile, we push each other’s boundaries, and somehow we make it work. Everything—from my health, our routines, our families, our friends, our brands, our meals, our gym sessions, our holidays, our social life—is interwoven into a chaotic but deeply connected existence. We navigate fame, finances, faith, public scrutiny, chronic illness, injuries, pranks, pampering, arguments, and love, and somehow, despite the horror of my medical conditions and the intensity of her personality, we feel like the perfect, if imperfect, pair.