𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰𝒔 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅| 3

28: Dead bodies and Deals

Shout-out to lovetori_xo who I love with all my heart🥺❤️❤️
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This is the second update today. Make sure u've read the chapter before this one.
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Help me, I'm holding on for tonight
Won't look up, won't open my eyes

- Sia.

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To the underdogs, the underappreciated, the ones who everyone overlook, in the family, in class, in that friend group... This one's for you🥤
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Asa

Stepping out of the giant metal train and hopping down the platform in the Mainland Subway, it was like stepping foot in a new dimension...

A worse dimension.

The heat hung over and around me, clinging to my neck and armpits and the air was sticky and heavy with humidity, suffocating my lungs, a stale pungent odour lingered in the air.

I wiped the sweat dribbling down my neck with an already wet handkerchief and pulled my bags with me, intent on getting a private ride back home.

Home... The dirty, dingy community flat that smelled like sewage and refuse with peeling paints, broken water system and a public yard. I almost cringed at the prospect, after being cushioned and swaddled in hotel rooms and private dorms, nibbling on the luxury life I used to have in Abuja, then in Offshore and during the tour.

I stopped in my tracks, not expecting to see her standing in the middle of all the hustle and bustle.

It was Tasha.

When I first arrived at Lagos, Tasha had reminded me of the stereotypic ambitious Lagos girl that wanted more from the humble beginning life had given her, with her outgoing personality, sparkly mini dresses, long black weaves and pointy acrylics, relishing the dying embers of her childhood and fully embracing the idea of turning eighteen, with eyes, hopeful for the future.

An entire year and she had dropped out of the university and changed her whole outlook of life, to something harder and bitter but still managing to keep her dark humour. Her childish hope had transformed into passionate resilience. She favoured dark clothing, micro mini skirts, embracing the emo-hipster chic fashion with long sleek purple weaves, dark lipstick, minimal eyeliner, whiskey shots, night life poetry and producing avant garde music on tapes and CDs.

But as she stood in the middle of the crowd, waiting for me, she seemed to have evolved once again, metamorphosing into a dark angel of sorts. Her dark skin glowed under the four o'clock sun. Her outfit was an immaculate white skater skirt, snow white cropped tshirt and white ankle boots. She looked so... Clean.

A simple locket hung from her neck and chunky bracelets decorated her right arm. Gold rimmed sunshades stuck in her choppy caramel weave and her face was devoid of makeup. I was struck in awe at her ridiculously beautiful facial features, that for once, weren't accentuated with makeup. A gold heart-shaped piercing protruded from her septum and glistened under the sun.

Tasha has always been beautiful in that luscious, voluptuous way. You couldn't stop looking at her even if you tried.

When she saw me approaching her, she rolled her eyes and tapped her feet, as if wanting me to speed up.