[Story]: THE RICH, THE POOR, THE MISERABLE LOVE (Episode 10) TrendyVoice

14 September 2016

[Story]: THE RICH, THE POOR, THE MISERABLE LOVE (Episode 10)




 



ENJOY the CONTINUATION! 

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I stood there like a confused nun who had risen in the middle of the night to find herself mysteriously deflowered. Could a demon have done this? Could an angel have done it? Or could it have been Brother Matthew who mows the lawn? Or is it the menstrual flow coming earlier than usual? What is it with the cramping pain? What if we’re to be fingered to test the current state of our hymens again? What if the Kingdom of God arrives now? On and on.

Phillips? How did he know I was going to be there at that moment in time? Was I dreaming? I wiped my face twice, I wanted to disappear from that spot but it seemed too real to be a dream and escape was mocking its own impossibility.

“What do you plan to achieve with all these against me? You started from female girdles and now this? Did I not help you achieve your nasty romantic dream? Did I not stand by you as a good friend? Speak up! You never struck me as someone who could be this treacherous. What's my offence?”

I was simply speechless, and I could have permanently been, but he said something that provoked me.
“So, this is what you’re a prince at, hum? Propagandism and perfidy? You’re no royal blood, man. You’re a scumbag, a destitute gallows bird.”

Wow, that was quite annoying!

“Really?” I snorted. “The kettle calling the pot black? Do we still have to pretend any longer than we’ve already endured? I know everything already, Phillips. Everything! We both know you would’ve done the same to me if I’ve not done it to you first. You want to be registrar, don’t you?”

The speed at which he rushed me up was incredible! The way he slammed me against the muddy floor was like Big Show against Adigun Alapomeji, splattering despicable goo all about, and I would’ve concluded my ribs had broken if my subsequent movement had brought thoracic pains. When his big knuckle landed on my face twice, I saw angels smiling at me and everywhere became starry like God’s kingdom had finally come.

I couldn’t help it, I had to respond. So I planted my right knee in his groins and he did yap like a pup. I turned him over instantly and sat atop him. I guess he had underestimated my strength judging by my lean stature. My fingers into his eyes I pressed in an attempt to temporarily blind him but his head was slippery. Just a single blow was what I managed to thrust out before he yanked me off and before I could have another chance again, students were miraculously gathered around us and we were ashamedly forced to separate. It was a bad day devil gulped fifty liters of water!

“Behold, your Registrar!” he was saying while I walked in reverse, wiping the odorous water off my face, “The king of blackmail and defamation! Look at his latest bill against me! Lies!”
“He’s lying!” I heard myself mumbled through an aching throat. “He’s the one writing bullshit against people.”

I didn’t wait for our audience’s judgment, I ran off like a small kid who was going to report a beating to his mother. How he got to know I would be there at that period of time tauntingly amazed me. Or perhaps, could he have come to paste his own write-up against me and accidentally ran into me?

I already walked halfway into my office before I noticed my shoes were baking mud all over the place. I pulled my legs out of them and left them where they were, and then I went into the bathroom which until that nightly morning, I never used for anything besides urinating. I put myself out of everything and went under the shower. Something was wrong. How did he know I was going to be there?

I looked at myself in the mirror; I was bleeding through the nose. Well, it stopped at some point but my worries oozed on. Students saw us! Students fucking saw us for God's sake! What were they going to be saying all around the school on the following day? What just happened? Did I just fight my friend? How did we get to that dirty juncture of screeching discombobulation?

I left the bathroom and picked my wet clothing at its door, I had to dry them. My phone was also soaked in water and it was not working. I would’ve removed the battery but it was irremovable. Nakedly, shaking for cold, I sat on my office’s sofa, rested my back on its crest which only reached my shoulders, and then I crossed my arms across my chest. Was I not a total fool?

Teju was an enemy who would be planning to attack me soon to rid me of his sister. Then that Phillips and I were in the ring as opponents too, I couldn’t think of anything more unhelpful. Aunt Arike wouldn’t attack me; she wanted me; if she was not convinced I wrote the article against her anyways. Mary appeared to be my confidante and I had no option than to trust her; after all, she made me the Registrar, she wouldn’t want me removed. Those were even unimportant at that point in time, two teachers fought in the middle of the night at hostel premises and students saw them. Mr. Phillips whom they have long known had accused the Uncle-Geography-turned-Registrar of libel and blackmail, and of course the alleged couldn’t say much before he ran away. The news would definitely get to Big Victor at home, and he would be disappointed in me, probably angry that while he was mourning his wife’s demise, I was busy defaming his teachers in the school, instead of running the school. What happened in that sardonic shower of rain… that exchange of blows… it was surely my end. I would be sacked and Phillips would certainly be praised. If Toro heard, would she not be confused about the real identity of this new guy she’s opened her heart to? I would lose everything! Mary was my hope. The only person who could keep my hold in the school as an employee and a Registrar was nobody else but Mary; she was the scepter holder, I hoped so.

I left the school around six o’clock in the morning after I sat dumbly on the sofa for hours like a compass without a magnetic north, wishing I never had to work there and I never had to meet Toro in that school. I got home at exactly 6:50am because I trekked and I didn’t bother to speed my steps up, a time period which used to find me already dressed, messing with my gas cooker for breakfast. I wanted to call Mary, no phone. I also imagined Big Victor trying to call me to express his displeasure in me, same story; no phone. Maybe it was good I didn’t have a working phone after all.

I fumbled with my bathed phone for the last time, it refused to boot, so I dropped it; diaris kuku God, forty-five thousand Naira bathed in the mud like that! Phillips’ face was bright on my mind, so, how my place looked, how I couldn’t win a girl’s heart on my own without assistance, everything he knew but never commented about, he was really going to publish them to burn me? There was no point in embracing regrets then, I thought, Phillips and I were across each other on a battle line, we had to fight and that was the best resolve.

I sat on my bed with my back against the wall for some time, then around 7:16am, something crossed my mind, I stood and went over to my wardrobe, if I was right, the note Mary wrote her phone number on should be in some pockets there. I found it. Her twaddle was still there, uncaring about how sad and scared I was. I surged out to meet the woman whose room was adjacent to mine, Mummy Angela. She was a young lady but she already had a daughter, no husband, and most of the time, she often smiled in my direction for no reason, flirting obviously, but it wasn’t my kind of thing, dating a mother. She was a talkative but she didn’t mix with just anyone in that house. She didn’t even respond to my knocks until I mentioned my name.

“Uncle?” I heard her ruffled voice in a jaded pitch.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Ah, I’m coming ooo.”

She opened to me and showed her not so attractive teeth in one of her outdated flirtatious smiles.

“Good morning,” I said restlessly. “Sorry for disturbing you. I don’t know if… I might be indulged to borrow your phone, mine is… the battery is down and there’s an urgent call I need to make. I’ll recharge your line, I promise. And it won’t take long.”
“Where you wan go find card this time? I get credit on top am, wait, mae I go bring am.”

She dropped the dirty curtain which sent a sneeze-provoking dust in the air and in five seconds, she returned with one of those Tecno phones you could buy with One Thousand Naira. Who cares?

“Thank you, Mummy Angela, I’ll return it now—now.”
“No problem.”

When I wanted to enter my room, I glanced at her direction; she was still looking at me in her unsightly smile. This lady is not serious at all, ranjú mó’kùnrin láàró kùtùkùtù, mtcheww...

Mary’s phone didn’t ring much before she answered.

“Mary, it’s me, Adebayo, my phone is spoilt. I’m using my neghbour’s.”
“No wonder, I’ve tried to call you, I thought you switched it off or something.”
“No.”
“I heard what happened.”

Eh? Heard what—already?

“What?” asked I, eagerly.
“You and Mr. Phillips’ duel last night.”
“Ergh—ergh…” clearing my throat. “You heard?”
“Yes, I heard.”
“Ehn—ehn…” Short silence… “Has Big Victor heard?”
“No, he hasn’t.”
“I don’t know how he knew I was going to be there, he just showed up!”
“He probably wanted to sponsor one against you too but found you there to his disappointment, which explains why he attacked you first. They said he attacked you first, didn’t he?”
“Yes—yes, he attacked me first. In fact…” I wanted to say I was feeling pain all over my body but I swallowed it.
“You see now? I hear everything even if I’m not in the school. Where are you?”
“I’m at home, errmm… with what happened yesterday, I don’t even think I can show my face in that school today. All the students saw us.”
“About that, come, don’t worry. Just trust me. Do you trust me?”
“Y—yes,” reluctantly.
“Okay. I’m resuming to school today, on my way already. Let’s meet there. I have to come early to correct this, you know. If anybody asks you about any part of the story, just deny it until I find a believable version to broadcast, okay?”
“But students saw us.”
“That’s it. You don’t know anything about these students. They made you the Registrar, I only impacted it. They’ll not desert you no matter what you do.”
“They did?” I was so not myself.
“Yes, they did. I guess it’s high time I told you some secrets. Please get your line back on soon.”
“Okay.”

The call was ended from her end. So I went back to my neighbor’s door to return her phone.

“Are you not going to work today? It’s after seven,” she rattled in expression of teasing concern.
“I’ll go—I’ll go, just about to leave.”
“Ehn-ehn?”
“Yes. Thank you for the phone, I'm really grateful.”
"Na small thing, uncle."

I left the same way I came, swiftly. If I stayed any longer, Mummy Angela wouldn’t mind engaging me more in one of her question and answer jibber-jabbers.

The walk from the gate of the school to my office that day was the longest walk in my life. I felt like I was the topic of every mouth to ear, I felt guilty before allegation, I felt like everyone talking was talking about me. They were still at the assembly ground when I got to my office but I didn’t go there, but no sooner had I got to the office than someone appeared at the door, just who I didn’t want to see, Aunt Arike. Thank God I cleaned the mud before I left the office that morning.

“You were not in school yesterday,” she said in an unsmiling face.
“Yes, I was at Big Victor’s.”
“And you didn’t pick my calls.”
“I’m sorry. There were a lot of people crying. I didn’t even know the phone rang.”
“So, is it true?”
“It is. She died in an auto crash.”
“No, not that, everybody knows that already. About Phillips, is it true?”

Ghen—ghen—ghen! She knew already? Lòró bá pèsìje!

“I wish I was the one who caught him,” she resumed talking when I said nothing. “I would’ve torn him apart. He’s a goner in this school for sure, that idiot! But how come anyway, I thought he’s your best friend, how come you were the one who caught him?”

That question! She sounded like she didn’t trust what she had heard, or that she was simply interrogating me out of smart curiosity.

“Nobody is my friend who is planning to write bad stuffs about me.”
“Really? He wanted to write bad stuffs about you too? That’s strange. You must feel sad right now to discover that the only friend you had here is an asshole. Anyway, do you have a copy of what he was about to release when you caught him? I can’t seem to find any copy left anywhere.”
“I didn’t pick any, I didn’t even consider picking it.”
“Who was he intending to sponsor that one against?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t—”

Mary appeared at the door, looking askance.

“Good morning sir. Good morning ma,” she greeted, looking tired.
“Ah, Mary, come here,” that was Aunt Arike, clasping her in her arms. “I condole with you on your mum’s demise. Ah, what has death done! She was always nice to me when she was here. I felt so sad about her passing away when I heard. In fact, I couldn't eat. I pray God stays with you and make you go farther than she ever reached.”

She couldn't eat? Big lie!

“Amen, thank you ma.”
“Oh, you came to see Mr. Adebayo?”
“Yes ma.”
“Mr. Adebayo, we’ll talk later, I need to be in a class now. Mary, take care of yourself, okay?”
“Okay ma. I will. Thank you ma.”

Aunt Arike left. She had hardly left before Mary surged towards me.

“What were you discussing with her?” she demanded quite frenziedly.
“I wasn’t discussing anything with her." I spoke through my nose. "She wanted to see what Phillips’ failed publication was about and I said I don’t have it.”
“Hmmm… she’s suspicious of the news, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of her. Dad is coming today but he’ll only stay very briefly. In case he calls you, do not make any mistake, dad's very smart, you caught him in the process, that’s the story."
"Aunt Arike already gave off the hint."
"Good. I’ve perfected everything this morning already, I told you; we’re in control. Just trust me.”
“Okay.”
“Can we sit down now?”
“Of course, come.”

What she told me after then was lengthy but summarily that she was the head of a secret society of students and that they were powerful than anybody in that school, that they made me the Registrar because they liked my attitude and humility, that even though they knew what really happened last night, they would protect me and never tell the real version of it. And then I asked what was supposed to be the price for this rescue, she told me that firstly, I must never join the Council of Stakeholders, we must join hands to dismantle them and get her father to see the reason why they must be sacked, that if no reason existed, they charged me with creating one. And secondly, which according to her, was the most important was to give them copies of exam questions they were to write. She said every question would get my approval before it’s photocopied for exam, that I must let them have the copies and the students would always stand by me, that in fact, by complying, I would just be taking a turn towards being the Principal.

Jesus Christ! Secondary school students? Look at the thickness of the politics I was weaved into by a girl of sixteen, and they say rich kids are butter brats and not smart. This girl was actually beating me at this game. She was ruling and I had no option than to accept her terms. She dropped her phone with me and left.

I would later learn, just at that moment, Aunt Arike tip-toed away from the door and scampered in light but fast steps to the Home Economics laboratory where Phillips was waiting for her.

“I still don’t trust you,” Aunt Arike told him as she appeared at the door, calling for the attention of our dear Phillips who was frowning over the screen of an expensive Samsung phone.
“You would be making fun of common sense if you don’t. You should,” said Philips, nodding.
“Where is it?” Aunt Arke demanded and Phillips placed an A4-sized sheet of paper in her extended hand.
“So, who told you Mr. Adebayo would be in school to publish this bill?”
“Just a text message… from this number. It’s not been reachable since then though.”
“Can you write it out for me? Put it at the back of the write-up, here, yeah, there, yes. It’s okay, bring it.”

They looked at each other’s faces.

“Did you know you’re going to be sacked now?” Aunt Arike asked frankly.
“I know,” replied Phillips after a deep sigh.
“Don't worry, I’ll help you get another job. Thanks for helping me.”
“We’re actually helping each other.”
Aunt Arike nodded and smiled. “Now, let’s deal with this small girl,” she said and both of them shook hands.

I phoned Toro after Mary left, she said she was in Ota at Covenant University, receiving lectures. Good for her. We chit-chatted as usual and I told her my phone accidentally dropped into a toilet's W.C., she said I was careless, I said I knew, she asked if I’d love to borrow money from her, I said she shouldn’t bother but she said I should borrow from her money with me to buy a phone, that I should see it as a gift from her and I shouldn’t bother to refund the money. That in fact, if there was another necessary thing that I needed money for, I should take from her money but I should not forget to visit a teddy bear shop for her. I said I understood and then she ended the call. Look at that, that girl just categorically gave me the 450, 000 Naira she had received with my account.

I picked the phone again, tapped the message icon, keyed in some words: “Send ur acct info, I wan'to refund ur money bak 2 u,” and entered Phillips’ number in the recipient’s box, sent it. Remember, on Mary’s phone.

When Big Victor came that day, I was sure he too wouldn’t have expected that the traffic of sympathizers would be that intense at his office, I wasn’t called. At break time, I went to visit an old teacher called Mr. Hakeem, one of the members of the Council of Stakeholders. This man’s forehead showed how dedicated a Muslim he was, not like most of us who were bad ambassadors of our religion. His appearance with his subtle smiles was evidence that this Council could have been benevolent in opposite of what I was expected to believe. This was a Muslim I wished to be open with, but then another thought crossed my mind, if every man with a dark forehead is a righteous Muslim, then every fruit with a yellow epicarp is ripe. I elected to be cautious.

“Our Registrar sir, good afternoon sir.” He stood to greet me, a man who was far older than me, even more educated. I did a research on all of  the men who came as the Council members on that my declaration day, Mr. Hakeem had obtained his Masters since nine years before.
“Good afternoon Mr. Hakeem,” I sat before his table as he beckoned and he too sat immediately after.
“Would you like hot tea? You can’t find anything on my table besides that these days.”
“I don’t mind, for the cold.”

He poured some brown liquid out of a brown flask and picked a can of powder milk and a box of St. Louis sugar from one of his drawers, seemed excited I accepted to drink his tea. I heaved forward on my chair and completed the process.

“It’s lemon grass,” I observed after I sipped it.
“Yes, with honey. You don’t like it?”
“No, I actually do. I often take it myself, that’s why the taste is not alien to me.”
“It’s better than Lipton.”
“Surely it is. The aroma itself could win a lady.”

We laughed and I sipped on quietly for a while, a little hot.

“Mr. Francis,” I later asked, “what kind of man was he?”
“Excuse me?”
“Mr. Francis, the former Registrar, he seemed great in his office photograph but they said he was sacked soon after he became the Registrar.”
“Ah, that one, yes, he was sacked soon after he was pronounced the Registrar. I liked him, really, but… I guess he talked too much.”

I was sipping the tea, thinking about how to get my answer without seeming as smart as I hoped I was.

“So,  I guess the office requires a lot of discretion then. I’ve been there for few weeks now, there’s no big deal of secrets yet. Perhaps, just talking too much alone is unacceptable even if such talks are personal?”
“No,” he looked at me searchingly and smiled subtly. “In that office, every word counts, small talks could be a great deal implicating. It’s better one keeps his mouth shut entirely.”
“But I heard he had affairs with students, which was why he was sent away, not because he talked too much or something.”
“Mr. Adebayo, I understand you’re concerned about your duration in that office, it’s absolutely normal, there’s no shame in it, I would too. And I'm telling you the truth now, Francis had no affair with students, he simply talked too much and that’s what you need to avoid.”

God knows what he was searching for, he had been lifting one book off the other since I got in with him, and I thought, perhaps I should be more indirect in my talks.

“It’s so difficult to have a future in this school when one’s a Registrar. If I had a choice, really, I would’ve—”
“But being a Registrar is one of the greatest futures anyone would be looking up to in this school," he interrupted. "Really, you should be thankf—” his progression was seized by a short cough which prompted him into pouring from the flask too.
“Your inaugural speech was quite compelling,” he continued after short rounds of cough and genuine sorries. “I doubt anyone would be willing to cross horns with you any soon. In fact, you seem born for things like this and I personally am one of your fans so far.”
I chuckled then, only if he knew what I've gotten myself into already.  “Well, they wouldn’t probably try to, the Council of Stakeholders protects me now.”

He lowered the book in his hand spontaneously to look at me.

“Everybody seems afraid of the Council of Stakeholders,” I continued. “Since I’m the Council now myself, I just hope we can achieve good things.”

He dropped the book and leaned forward in his chair, and he did look at me in a smiling face then.

“You’re not the Council, Mr. Adebayo, just a member of it. But it’s true; the Council would do anything to keep you safe from harm… if you’re not the architect of your own harm though. My warning is still the same, watch your tongue. We can’t protect you from your tongue. Every office in this school has unique ears, and the listening end, enemies meet there. I like you personally… at least; you seem excited by the phenomenon of our Council.”
“It’s most sensible there are groups like that in settings like this.”
“Of course. Let me ask you." He looked quietly for a while. "Back at your school, were you a member of any secret cult?”
“Secret... No, why?”
“Nothing. You really weren’t?”
“No."
"Then you're still a stranger to the culture. Are you serious?"
"I wouldn’t lie if I were. Is… is the Council a sort of secret… cult?”
“Huh, I wouldn’t say it’s not, Mr. Adebayo. But whatever it is, it’s not very secret again, now is it?”

I shook my head slowly.

“So, what do we do exactly?" I asked, curious to know what I was really getting into. My major purpose, to know what the Council really meant.
“We run the school, that’s all.” He shrugged.
“The Principal and the VPs, are they members too?”
“No, I wouldn’t tell you who is and who is not a member, I’m not permitted to. But one thing you must know is, if you manage to perform and last long in the office, you’ll be made the Principal, which is where you get to represent us outside of the school. You fail, you become a reference name like Francis.”

He spoke with such authority that indeed, I knew these guys were untouchable in the school. Yet, I had to do, or perhaps, pretend to do my Mary’s bidding, create a reason they must be disposed of.

“Failure is not in my path, I’ll not fail. And I’ll keep my mouth shut as urged.”
“I really like you, seriously. Failure is not in your path! I like that. Almighty Allah will help you.”

My Amen was deep.

“And, another thing,” he leaned forward in his chair, “also keep your zips up, engagements of unacceptable nature throws our staffs out when they stoop that low.”

Kaza! I announced my leave after emptying the cup totally and he did stand too, shook my hand, thanked me for coming, urged me to always come, and then saw me to the door. I felt a storm coming; I felt the need to prepare for war.

On my way back to the office, I saw the WAEC students trooping to the Secretary’s office, which was a part of Big Victor’s office. Schools which were not approved for WAEC and NECO had to register their students with an approved school like ours. You would identify them easily, in strange school uniforms, coming by their school buses; that only reminded me of spine-crooking paper works which were obviously never going to end for me in that office. I saw the cleaner woman again, she was working in front of the Secretary’s office and when our eyes met, she looked away. So I went to her and requested for her audience.

“Good afternoon aunty,” greeted I, smilingly.
“Good afternoon sir,” she curtsied.
“Can I see you in my office now?”
“Ah, shey now—now?”
“Yes, right now.”
“Abeg, make I quickly go put these buckets down first, I go come.”
“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

Of course I never saw her that day again; she didn’t come, more reason to believe something was up about her.

I love Indian songs. I don’t understand their language but I always create meanings of my own to them. And when tears fall from my eyes when I sing the songs, my friends always laugh and call me McAngel the comedian. I soon discovered that lyrics weren’t what I listen to in songs but the beat and the energy put into its production. I listen to Simply Three, Piano Guys and Lindsey Stirling more often than I listen to Kanye West, Chris Brown and Wande Coal, and oh my God, I couldn’t afford to lose all the songs on my phone. So I left the school before closing hours, before Mary or Aunt Arike could show up to spoil my day. Mary’s phone with me, I asked a student from the Junior School to locate her and give it to her in the absence of teachers, he nodded and took on speed. I didn’t buy another phone at Computer Village in Ikeja when I got there, an engineer resurrected my phone in a matter of fifteen minutes and I headed back home. Street lights sang by, and although I have stayed in commercial buses more than I’ve sat in private vehicles all my life, the Lagos breeze was all the same. If you sit at the end of the seat and not in-between some big mamas, you would enjoy the wind too. I loved Lagos, not as much as my hometown though.

Toro and I spoke for more than thirty minutes before we took our talk to Skype and chatted for more two hours, catching up with the love my life had missed for years. I never knew that that would be the end of our great times. What happened after then?

I was on my way to school the following day when I received a message from Toro with incorrect spellings, like she wrote it out of hastiness or anger but the message was, “You’re all the same, punk ass. Middle finger to you.”

I was sure it wasn’t meant for me, I wasn’t bothered for the message. What I was bothered for was my unanswered calls. I got to the office that morning getting more and more anxious, re-dialing the number but meeting with persistent decline. Haba! What’s wrong with my baby now?

I sent someone to go and get Mary’s phone for me, maybe if I called her with a strange number, she would pick it, she told the messenger that her phone was in the hostel and they wouldn’t be allowed there at that time. Big Victor was not in school, nobody would query me if I left. So I left for the MTN Stand across the school gate, got a new SIM Card, registered it and then inserted it in my phone and called Toro, she picked it in somewhat a melancholic mood.

“Baby, what’s up? What happened? It’s me Tunde. You’ve not been picking my calls. That message you—”
Call ended.

Ha—ha! It was really not getting any less serious and I was ripe for fear's taking at that point. I called her number again, not answered. I sat on one of the chairs my guests were supposed to take and looked at my own seat. Did Phillips do something to hurt me? What could he have done? I felt like calling and cursing but I cautioned myself, it wouldn’t make sense. Okay, let me call her again. I dialed the number, she answered but no hello, I checked the phone's screen, there was still a caller at the other end, and then the phone to my ear again I placed, I heard a distant talk and faint music, she was there quietly listening for sure, so I spoke on,
“I know you’re there, thanks for listening this time. I really don’t know what all these is all about but I’m sure it’s a big prank, you don’t mean it, it’s a—”

The hissing that followed that was hugely loud and the call ended immediately after it. I placed the phone down on the table and started thinking, but I really couldn’t think anything up. So I approached my bag and brought my system out, how could I access a previously held Skype conversation to see if I had said something wrong, no idea. I removed the new SIM card and replaced it with my real one. I checked the sent messages; perhaps I mistakenly sent something, nothing. Then an email notification chimed and I clicked on it, it was an email from Toro; she had sent an audio attachment with a blank message and no topic. Twenty-three minute duration of an audio. I downloaded it and played it. I didn’t believe it, my talk in my very office with Phillips about how I fucked Toro and all these advices, God, I only said that after I suspected him just to make him think I still trusted him, just to give him an impression that he was still my coach, I never talked that much to him about my private endeavours before.

Wow, who could’ve thought Phillips could have recorded that? The love story had collapsed for sure, while unfortunately, it was only beginning.

I passed wind thrice like great firings from Napoleon Bonaparte's cannons; I was in big trouble!

....to be Continued!

Written by: Lord eBay (and his romantic adventures, 2016)
Twitter: @eBayism
Facebook: http://facebook.com/lescothafrica
Email: dearlordebay@gmail.com

ABOUT AUTHOR:
Lord eBay is an Aspiring Author with a taste for Romantic, Political and Paranormal Fictions. His goal is to join other writers in resurrecting Reading/Writing culture in Nigeria. 

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