Chapter Three

"You think we're perfect together? That's a laugh."

Jimi's reply hit her phone screen like a punch to the gut. Nike stared at the words, her chest tightening with every passing second. He didn't even bother with a full sentence—just a dismissive, ice-cold text that shattered her once-warm feelings.

The screen blurred as tears filled her eyes. For the umpteenth time, she asked herself why she even cared. Why was she trying so hard for someone who didn't care?

Her fingers hovered over her keyboard, trembling. Move on, Nike. He doesn't deserve this space in your head.

She blinked away the tears, her jaw tightening. She swiped to delete the chat history, paused, and then pressed "delete" with finality. Her life was waiting for her—outside Abuja, beyond high school, becoming a success and leave behind forgetting totally a human called Jimi.

She had also made to uninstall the game app where she had met him in the first place but… was that needed? Is this incidence worth her removing a crucial part of her life? What makes her happy…?

Prom night arrived and passed in a whirlwind, but Nike made sure to leave her mark in the most unexpected way. She shocked everyone by showing up in a sleek black suit, exuding the aura of a wealthy boss lady. No one had anticipated this—not even Adesua, because same Nike was the mastermind behind the entire event. She had meticulously planned the prom, from influencing the girls' dress choices to organizing the food, drinks, and music. Everyone had expected Nike to make a grand entrance dressed as the most stunning queen of the night. She was supposed to appear in her extravagant purple and black gown as the uniform says.

Instead, a flashy black Mercedes G-Wagon rolled up to the venue, and out stepped Nike, heels clicking against the pavement. She wore a perfectly tailored black suit over a crisp white shirt, paired with flowing black palazzo pants. She carried herself like royalty—but not the typical prom queen. She radiated the power and mystery of a mafia queen.

As she stood there, surveying the scene with quiet confidence, she effortlessly commanded the attention of everyone present. Conversations halted, and all eyes fixated on her.

"Does she always have to make a dramatic entrance?" Olivia muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes so hard it seemed they might fall out of their sockets.

Olivia had been the center of attention just moments before, dazzling in a purple gown that perfectly complemented her fair skin. She had basked in the admiring gazes until Nike arrived, stealing the spotlight with her daring, intimidating look. And if anyone looked closely, they might have noticed that Nike wasn't just dressed to impress—her aura suggested danger.

Standing alone, Nike observed the room, unbothered by the stares. She didn't seek validation; she owned the moment. Eventually, Adesua approached her, followed by a group of girls. Olivia reluctantly tagged along, clinging to her date's arm. She was determined to flaunt her handsome partner, both out of pride and as a subtle jab at Nike, who had arrived alone.

The dance portion of the night soon began, with couples heading to the floor to sway to the music. For the first part of the evening, the event was streamed live, a decision Nike had approved with everyone's consent. But now, as the dancing began, nerves crept up her spine. She had just realized that Jimi might be watching—wherever he was.

Adesua tried her best to cheer Nike up and convince her to join the dance, but Nike stubbornly stayed on the sidelines. Adesua eventually gave up and joined the floor with her date. Most of the attendees were already caught up in the lively rhythm, the atmosphere growing more intense and fun with each passing moment.

Suddenly, as if on robot mode, Nike stepped onto the dance floor. The move caught everyone's attention, especially Olivia, who couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.

"Of course, she's alone," Olivia whispered to herself, her smirk turning into a sarcastic scoff.

But her expression quickly shifted to confusion. Out of nowhere, an unfamiliar handsome young dude who looked like a 19 years old, appeared, striding confidently toward Nike. Without hesitation, he cupped her face gently in his hands, drawing her attention entirely. They spoke in low tones, their lips moving in a private exchange that no one could overhear.

Then, without warning, Nike leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his solid frame. He held her tightly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead in a gesture of assurance and intimacy.

"Can you just smile, you this fish?" he said chuckling lowly and she smiled sincerely.

The room collectively froze, and the buzz of conversation came to a halt.

"What... the…?" someone muttered from the crowd.

The disbelief spread like wildfire, and the once-lively audience erupted in a single, thunderstruck reaction:

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttttttt???"

A/N: I would be extremely pleasured to dive deep into her high school story but… nooo!!!

**

There are better people everywhere. Her relatives especially her aunt was ever ready to sponsor her tour round Nigeria and her parents were not restricting her mainly because of how wonderfully well she had performed in all external exams, they felt especially her father that she was mature and street wise enough to live on her own, and she was extremely grateful for that.

Time to leave, the first place she visited was Port Harcourt, she spent a week there and left for Warri which was in her state of origin, Delta, where she resided with her lovely grandparents. She loved the atmosphere and vibes so decided to spend three weeks, made some cool friends there most especially the dudes…. Then finally left for Ibadan where she explored their rich blend of African culture mixed with the Yoruba vibes and chills. It was a really cool place, but not as cool as the city where she was going to visit last on the tour. And meet meetings….

"Coming up next….." she smiled as she stood up from the waiting area at the airport on hearing her flight number. "Lagos…" she said in a low tone all full of smiles as she walked to board the plane.

****

Into the weeks in Lagos….

Nike had built a life there that worked for her. She wasn't just surviving—she was thriving. From writing stories and managing social media pages to offering voiceovers and consulting on marketing strategies, she was the definition of an independent young woman.

Every morning, she'd wake up to her notifications buzzing with client requests, always juggling between new projects and returning clients. Her apartment, small but cozy, felt like the perfect little sanctuary for someone who knew how to hustle. Lagos had given her the freedom to grow, and with it, she learned the balance of work, rest, and maintaining her mental health—sometimes, that meant sending money to her parents to show them that she, too, was doing just fine.

Nike stretched her arms and groaned, her eyes stinging from hours spent staring at her laptop. Another freelance gig completed, another paycheck earned. She tapped her phone and smiled as she transferred part of her earnings to her parents. They didn't ask for it—they were doing just fine on their own—but she loved showing them she could thrive on her own terms.

But recently, she'd felt a growing ache in her chest. The screen was becoming a prison. As much as she loved her freelancing lifestyle, working from home meant being stuck in front of the computer all day. She needed to get out. "I need air," she muttered, shutting her laptop and grabbing her bag with her tomboy outfit that made her feel "good."

That afternoon, she bumped into her old high school best friend, Adesua, while grabbing shawarma at a street vendor's stall. They squealed in delight, exchanging hugs and hurried updates on their lives. Adesua, with her usual infectious energy, was just as Nike remembered—bubbly, confident, and always ready to take on the world.

 "You're in Lagos too?" Nike asked, her face lighting up.

"Yeah, girl! And I found this spot you'll love," Adesua said. She pulled Nike into a chatty walk, eventually leading her to an open entertainment hub that buzzed with life.

****

It became Nike's new hangout like a new home apart from her residence. Most times, she took her laptop there and works in the place because the place never sleeps, she goes home at night. A few days later, on one of her usual visits, she wandered across the field, taking in the music and laughter. She barely noticed the guy in her path until they collided.

Her key fell to the ground, and she bent to pick it up. Standing back up, she froze. The guy before her was tall, ridiculously handsome, with sharp features that belonged on a billboard. He had this really handsome manly but youthful structured face with plaited dreaded hair and silver earrings he wore on each side of his ears, cute white set of teeth and a pointy nose. 'He should be a model....' Nike thought shortly. But his face was burdened, his eyes darting as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. He looked confused, annoyed, worried, while still trying to force a smile on his face that was not even working out well.

"Sorry," he said with his forced smile but Nike noticed.

"Uhm...are you okay?" Nike asked, hesitant but concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied quickly, then paused. "Actually…that's a lie." He paused as his words came out in a rush. "I'm not fine, okay? I'm not fine at all! I need help! I'm dying—my father is doing me strong thing!"

Nike blinked, startled by the outburst. She almost chuckled at the dramatic phrasing, but the desperation in his voice made her stop. "Uh…do you want to talk about it?" she offered.

His expression softened as if her question was the lifeline he'd been waiting for. "Oh yes, very much. I'd like to talk about it."

Moments later, they sat on a canteen bench, canned coke in hand, as the guy poured out his story.

***

As Darey poured out his frustrations, Nike listened intently. He talked about his father's decision to cut him off financially after years of reckless spending. "He said if I can't turn this place into a success, I should forget about any inheritance," Darey said, throwing his hands up. It was once one of the best developing entertainment hub in the area which they resided, his father was the director and made him to be one of the forefront models in which he was doing well and getting paid, but his "payment" was nothing compared to the frequent allowances and tips he got every single day from his dad and mom, it was times four of his official pay. But he was doing nothing with the money rather than spending it partying, girls, clubbing and the rest.

Nike tilted her head, amused. "Sounds like tough love, but...he's got a point. A very reasonable point." She said casually sipping her coke.

Darey's jaw dropped. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I don't even know you," Nike shot back with a teasing smile. "But from what you've said, maybe you need this challenge. If you manage this place right, you'll earn not just his trust but maybe your own confidence too." She said as a matter of fact.

Darey blinked, as if her words were foreign but oddly comforting. "Easier said than done. I've tried stuff, but it's just not working."

Nike sipped her coke thoughtfully. "You need to know your audience. Who comes here? What do they like? Entertainment isn't just about throwing events—it's about creating experiences people remember."

"And you know all this how?" he asked, skeptical but intrigued.

Nike shrugged. "I'm a freelancer. Writing, marketing, managing social media—it's what I do for a living. I've helped small businesses grow online, and I've worked with creatives who've built their brands from scratch. I could help you…if you're serious."

Darey's eyes lit up for the first time since their conversation began. "You're saying you'd actually help me?"

Nike nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Sure. But let's be clear—I'm not doing this out of pity. I'm helping because I know a win for you could mean a win for this whole community. Deal?"

Darey extended his hand, grinning for the first time in a while. "Deal."

****

Nike sighed loudly as she entered her house crashing on the sofa flat on her back. Adesua followed suit as she closed the door and walked casually straight to the kitchen.

"Where is this one going to?" Nike asked tiredly on the sofa. "Don't go near my fridge ok?!" she shouted behind her.

"OMG! Is this sausage?" Adesua exclaimed. "Ah ah, see rich kid!" she teased seeing how well the fridge was stalked with lots of food like she was selling them.

"Don't just go near the sausage, that's my best friend," Nike cried. Then she received a notification from her phone and quickly turned on her laptop to see what it tasked. It was a video from someone.

"Daaaammmnnnn!!!1" Adesua voiced suddenly went shaky as she saw the person in the video. It was Darey, looking as handsome as he was meant to be. "Whattt??? No! This guy is sooo fineee!" she squealed more and Nike rolled her eyes with a hiss.

"Me innocently thinking that something bad happened, it is because of this dude!" she shook her head facing back the laptop as she watched Darey who was naturally talking in the video. It was what Nike asked him to do so that he will create awareness concerning the hub. She had a hunch that it will work out cause he's a handsome dude, so just his face alone will attract due attention.

"I want his number!" Adesua suddenly announced all mesmerized by the way he was casually talking with his not too deep but calm tone in the video.

"And yes, I think that's all for today!" he concluded with a very beautiful smile and Adesua wanted to jump into the screen and kiss him.

"Girl! Are you actually sure you are actually okay? He's a human being ooo!!" she exclaimed with teasing looks. "And by the way, beauty doesn't mean…"

"Shut up my darling…" Adesua interrupted her and began "How did you meet him? Where do you know him from? Why is he so fine?? Why is his voice so soothing?" she kept asking plenty questions.

"Please, am I supposed to answer all these??" Nike wailed knowing that her friend will soon fall for this guy she hasn't met yet.

"Wait! Yes! This is Darey naa!" she pointed out like she just remembered him. "He was 16 or 17 four or three years ago, he use to model when his dad was still a director back in the days before I left for Abuja!" she explained as though she was answering WAEC question and Nike was just staring at her.

"So now, you want to marry him?" Nike laughed with teasing looks.

"Not yet!" Adesua blushed and before she could say anything again she received a message from Nike and the message contained Darey's digits. "OH MY GOD!!!" Adesua shouted jumping on her making them both fall to the ground and hugging her a tightly as if she want to squeeze life out of her. "Thank you so much" she said thoughtfully.

"Sharrap! Don't use his name to disturb me ok!? It's not like you will even text him, you just collected for fancy," Nike stated as a matter of fact. She knew Adesua will not be the one to text a guy first, except she is intensely blinded by the love and that was an experience they both wished to never ever experience ever again.

"Duhh, the young shall grow," Adesua said twitching her lips.

****

The air felt cool and familiar, carrying the faint smell of freshly baked bread from a distant corner of the street. Nike stood on a quiet Lagos beach at sunset, the city's usual chaos a distant hum. The waves rolled gently, brushing the shore as if in rhythm with her heart.

Then, she saw him—Jimi.