The Splash Countdown

I stood at the edge of the pool, surrounded by friends and the lively energy of the night. The night held the promise of adventure, camaraderie, and a shared moment of jubilation as Greg, our gracious host, emerged into the poolside area draped in a vibrant blue bathrobe.

It was about time; everyone had been waiting for Greg to make the first splash, the symbolic initiation into a night of aquatic revelry.

The stage was set, the players were in their positions, and the night unfolded with the rhythmic cadence of a well-composed narrative.

Beside him, Rema, the musical maestro, held a red disposable cup, his signature Durag and shades accentuating his cool demeanor. The black Ralph Lauren swim shorts completed his ensemble, and Rema's security detail, discreetly clad in swimwear, followed with practiced stealth. Well, not from us, we were familiar with them through and through.

Greg and Rema sauntered toward our side of the pool. Rema's nonchalant demeanor concealed a profound understanding of the night's undertones.

His security detail, always almost invisible to prying eyes, maintained a discreet watchfulness, a silent reminder of the unspoken intricacies that unfolded in the background.

"Rema, when are we getting 'Another banger'?" Mike's voice cut through the group's chatter, emphasizing Rema's popular catchphrase.

"Rest," Rema replied nonchalantly, clearly not in the mood to entertain questions, as he and Greg settled in with the group. Mike, known for his usual rowdiness, was about to continue when I interrupted his speech.

"Drop it, Mike. With how rowdy you always are, you miss the littlest of details," I chided. "Can't you see he's clearly not in the mood to banter?"

The banter was a direct hit, and Mike shot me a death stare, to which I responded by sticking my tongue out.

"Dan, my man!" Rema's voice cut through the chatter. "Ready for the plunge?"

"Always, Remy. This is the highlight of the night." I grinned in response as the group exchanged light greetings with the newcomers.

Just then, as the night breeze carried the scent of chlorine, blending with the collective excitement.

Greg, now at the pool's edge, who had raised his blue bathrobe in a theatrical gesture was called on to attend to a pressing issue inside, disappointment etched itself onto his features, lines of determination momentarily replaced by the furrows of discontent, he had to go back into the house, the mood by the poolside plummeted once more.

The boys assembled, keeping vigil against guests who might be unaware or not want to obey the first splash rule.

***

"What the hell's keeping Greg?" Mike protested, feeling antsy.

"He's obviously still busy," I threw Mike a glare.

"But it's really taking too long. What is he still doing?" Tunde complained, directing the question towards nobody in general.

"If you ask me, who I go ask?" Fabian chimed in, speaking in Pidgin.

"I'm sure he's just making sure everything is in order so he won't be disturbed or distracted for the rest of the night. You know, a few relatives are sleeping over," I chimed in.

The banter continued as Greg seemed endlessly delayed, attending to a host of protocols and arrangements between guests, relatives, and family.

I contemplated checking on him once more, but my gaze drifted to the pool area where the girls gathered, chatting animatedly.

They had already changed into their swimsuits, with Precious clad in a black sleek halter neck swim dress, and Sandra and Abigail rocking bikinis, adding lively vibes to the gathering as usual.

Sam who had gotten familiar with the group over the course of the day, wore tank top and shorts, while Becky remained in her outfit from earlier, indicating her decision not to participate in swimming.

Precious, resplendent in her black halter neck swim dress, became the focal point of my admiration. The dress elegantly draped her silhouette, embracing her with an air of sophistication that captivated the poolside ambiance. The halter neck accentuated the graceful curve of her shoulders, adding a touch of allure to her presence.

The sleek black fabric, caressing every contour, showcased the poise and confidence she effortlessly exuded. The swim dress dipped into a modest yet enticing V-neck, drawing attention to the graceful arc of her collarbones and revealing the top part of her supple bosoms. It embraced her waist, revealing the subtle contours that bespoke both strength and femininity.

The black hue, a timeless choice, added a touch of mystery to her presence. It was as if she had donned the night itself, a canvas for the radiance that emanated from within.

"Dan, who's that girl wearing a yellow velvet gown? Do you know her?" Rema's voice broke me out of my reverie.

I turned to Rema who was referring to Becky in her distinctive yellow velvet gown. "Yeah, that's Becky. She's a friend."

"For how long?"

"Not long at all, like literally today. Actually she's a friend of another new friend, Precious" I said gesturing toward precious.

Rema raised an eyebrow, "Really, precious?"

"Hey, cut it," I chided. "I already warned the bros to put a lid on the precious jokes. I don't want her feeling uncomfortable tonight; she's just here to unwind."

"Whoa, okay bro, but no promises. I wonder what Gentuu would do if he finds out there's a 'Precious' in our gathering; that's a major code violation," Rema chuckled sipping from his cup, "He would fly down here this moment."

Gentuu, an artist and the original creator of the 'Precious' TikTok trend, was a rebel when it came to the name 'Precious,' but he couldn't make it here because he was currently out of the country.

Till this day, nobody knew what a 'Precious' or several did to him to ignite his beef with them. Being an influencer, he channeled it into his art and created his trend. The bros only knew he was going through a rough patch that period and supported him wholeheartedly.

Even if Rema was greatly exaggerating his arrival, I secretly hoped he or anyone wouldn't blab to Gentuu about me entertaining Precious.

I wasn't really ready for that heat. We had come to fear Gentuu's influence when he set his mind to something.

"Unless of course precious is compelled to talk to a certain someone on my behalf," Rema said, interrupting my flow of thoughts.

"Fair enough, done," I replied. "Deal?"

"Deal." Rema smirked, hitting my fist bump I held up.

Greg's scream of freedom reverberated around the entire compound as he raced to the pool area.

"Heads up!" he called before tossing his phone across the pool towards our gathering, exhibiting the skill of a pro football player as he jumped excitedly into the pool. The phone spun in the air, following a projectile trajectory.

"I got it!" I called out, making space to receive the catch, being the tallest in the group. As Greg's bathrobe-clad figure descended into the pool, his splash echoed through the night, simultaneous with my reception of the throw, mirroring the athleticism—a resonant chord in the well-composed narrative of our gatherings.

The DJ fired up the music as the water rippled outward. The ripple effect reached every corner of the gathering, mirroring the collective thrill that surged through the guests that happily joined in the long-awaited splash. Laughter and cheers erupted as the night officially kicked off. More swimsuits emerged, and friends embraced the freedom of the water.

"Greg, you're a legend!" I called out, joining the chorus of appreciation.

Rema, his signature cool intact, sipped from his red cup. "That's how you start a party."