Tapestry Of Lives: A Multifaceted Journey

Chapter Seventeen

**BUMMI’S P.O.V.**

I sat alone at a film house’s bar with just a bottle of water. It was still hard to believe I bought a bottle of water since I've been buying sachet water ever since I lost my job. But today, I decided to treat myself.

Sachet water is very cheap here in Nigeria, unlike bottled water. Although bottled water is relatively cheap too, it's still a bit expensive for my wallet.

I kept myself busy scrolling on my phone, watching videos of Ayra Starr’s latest concert in Toronto, Canada.

I'm not usually a fan of Nigerian music, but sometimes I enjoy it. I particularly like Shallipopi and Rema. I could name more, but as a church chorister, I'm not supposed to listen to such music.

My favorite songs come from Hillsong United, an Australian band. I can't stop listening to "Tapestry."

My phone battery warned me it was about to die.

Oops!

I took out my long white Android charger from my old, fading leather purse and quickly plugged my phone into the socket beside me.

Thank God the film house wasn't busy today; otherwise, I’d worry about someone stealing my phone, like what happened to someone in my area whose phone was taken, leaving only the charger and a small blue flashlight. The case involved the police but yielded no results. She wasted money with no proof. That was her being careless, and this is me, doing my best to protect my phone.

I’d like to ask something. Would you be happy or see it as normal if you kept sending someone text messages, they read them days ago, but still haven't responded?

What would you call that? How would you feel?

Isn't that snubbing or just plain rude?

You won’t believe this. I sent that son of a bitch eight messages in the past 24 hours, and he’s silent.

Ugh!

Damn him.

I hate being ignored or abandoned.

I felt like sabotaging something, especially his inbox. Why isn’t he responding? A few hours ago, he was online, and now he’s not. What’s up with this guy?

While my friends were enjoying the movie upstairs, I was here on the ground floor, fighting to keep my phone safe. Besides, I didn’t have the money to get a ticket to join them.

“Excuse me, angel.”

I looked up to see a pair of jet-black eyes staring into mine.

I couldn't remember seeing such a face before, so I didn’t mind...

“Are you expecting someone?”

I shook my head no.

Wait, did I just nod? Now he's pulling out a seat across the table, and I never asked him to.

“Christopher,” he said, extending his hand.

Handsome name for a handsome guy, but I turned down the gesture.

“Do you mind telling me your beautiful name?” he grinned.

Oh, Bummi, don’t be taken in by his smile...

I slapped my forehead inwardly and gave him a weak smile as I shook his hand. “Bummi.”

He held my hand firmly, making me feel awkward and shy.

Get your hand off mine, silly.

“Lovely name for a beautiful lady.” Finally, he let go of my hand and signaled a waiter, picking up the menu without taking his eyes off me.