The bar smelled like sweat, perfume, and ambition. I was taken straight to the manager, and when the door swung open, I froze. Miss Mira—Egyptian, stunning, all smiles. She was tiny but curvy, rocking a fitted skirt like she owned the world. Her diamond braces glinted when she grinned at me.
"Hello, Mr. Adejoke. I'm Mira, daughter and manager of the owner."
"Adejoke," I corrected with a smile.
"Nice meeting you," she said, handing me a form.
She asked me a million questions—background, skills, even my favorite songs—then waved me off toward the music room. I practiced until six, nerves coiled tight. Then it was showtime.
When I stepped on stage, my golden voice took flight. The garden was packed with foreigners—Algeria, London, Egypt, Nigeria, Toronto, Kenya, Zambia, Mozambique—every accent you could imagine. They all sat spellbound, eyes on me.
I sang in Igbo, Yoruba, pidgin, and English. Some people even stood up and pressed cheques into my hands—dollars, pounds, euros, cedis. I didn't care about the grammar—my account was about to be biggerly enlarged.
By 11:30pm, the show ended. I left floating. This was my first bar performance in Ghana, and I had just killed it.
But when I got home, the high crashed.
I pushed open my door, flicked the light switch—and froze. Two figures sat on my bed. Eva. And Lucy.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, frowning.
"Sleepover!" Eva said like it was Christmas. "Plus, Lucy got us a movie ticket."
"Hi Ade," Lucy waved.
My jaw clenched. "Eva, you promised no girly sleepovers in my room. If you want the whole space, fine—I'll find my own apartment. But stop treating my room like it's your playground!" I snapped, tossing my bike keys on the shelf.
"Chill, I thought you'd be happy," Eva snapped back, eyes burning.
"Happy? You're invading my space! For Christ's sake, this isn't a girls' hostel!"
"You're not yelling at me, are you?" she screamed, voice cracking.
Lucy jumped in nervously. "Guys, relax. I'll just leave."
"You're not going anywhere," Eva said sharply. She grabbed Lucy's hand, tears streaming. "Come to my room."
"Eva, I'm sorry—" I tried.
But she yanked Lucy away. I chased after her, but she slammed her door right in my face.
Anger burned through me. I stormed back to my room, straight into the shower, letting the cold water cool me down.
---
Morning came bitter and silent. The house was empty—no Eva, no Lucy. Mrs. Maya had flown to Turkey on business. Only Abam was left, whining about being late for school. I rode him there and then headed for mine.
I wasn't late, but my mood was still wrecked. In class, Eva sat face down on her desk, refusing to look at me. Lucy was buried in captain duties, scoring assignments like nothing had happened.
"Hi, Ade!" Helen beamed, tugging at her braids.
"Morning," I said flatly.
"Lucy told me you got the highest mark in yesterday's test."
"Good."
"Would you tutor me?" she asked, shoving her chair close before I could answer.
"Erm—"
"Thanks," she cut me off, dumping a math textbook in front of me.
I wasn't in the mood. I stood, walking straight to Eva. She kept her head buried.
"Eva, I'm sorry," I said, squatting beside her desk. "You can bring every one of your friends for a sleepover. I won't complain. Just stop being angry."
"Leave me alone!" she shouted, her voice echoing. Everyone stared.
"That's not fair," I whispered. "I was only asking for space. That's not a reason to humiliate me."
"Just get out."
"I tried apologizing, Eva. Fine. Whatever." My voice cracked with anger. "I'm leaving."
I stormed out of the classroom.
---
School could wait. I was exhausted—physically, mentally, emotionally. Yesterday, I hadn't even eaten. My life was starting to feel like a burden. I made my own money, bought my own car and bike, sang at bars, had seven digits in my account—but here I was, still begging for a little peace.
Not anymore.
That afternoon, I searched online and found an apartment close to the bar. I paid instantly, packed my bags, and loaded my car. By evening, I was gone.
To Mrs. Maya, I lied. I told her I needed to be near work. She made me promise to visit twice a week. I agreed.
When I entered my new space, it felt… right. Spacious. Self-contained. Mine. I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, memories flooding in—Bimpe, Ma, Pa, Titi, Emeka, Mrs. Maya, Abam, Eva.
My new chapter had begun.
---
Xup?
How y'all doing?
Boring, huh?
No reads, no comments—feels like I'm talking to myself.
Anyway, love y'all 😘
Stay tuned for Chapter 20 💞
Your favorite teen authoress 🔰📑
Oziomajasmine 💝