"How about we make this love thing real, yeah?"~Qaphela Makhathini.
In this fleeting span of mortal existence, Ayize and Qaphela are graciously granted another opportunity to love each other. However, circumstances don't appear to be as delightfu...
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𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙳𝙴𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙳𝙴, I shut my eyes as the police vehicle heads down a familiar road, leading to the precinct. Knowing my smart mouth will only make the situation worse, I keep it shut.
"It's always the pretty ones who have such unhinged minds. They are all so deranged," the cop behind the wheel comments. His colleague chortles at the statement.
"Bayahlanya vele. I can never understand these "independent" women. They act like they don't need men yet they go through crazy lengths to keep them. What did she think was going to happen?" Simultaneously, they start laughing once again. I, on the other hand, remain phlegmatic and calm despite their comments. I mentally roll my eyes at their conclusions.
Before I know it, they manhandle me inside the concrete building and waste no time snapping my photo plus taking my fingerprints. They also manage to confiscate my high heels and jewellery. The detaining process is initially quick, and I'm even surprised when they put me in a big ass holding cell alone. Everything in the open space is cold and concrete.
I stand with my back against a wall as my thoughts roam for almost twenty minutes before the sound of keys causes me to rush to the gate and glance through the bars.
"Hi!" I shout to a passing officer. I can tell that she is hesitant, but after looking from left to right, she walks over to the gate.
"What can I do for you?" With her nose scrunched up, left hand scratching through her braids, she questions.
"You can—ahem, can you please go check when I'll get my phone call." My eyes dance all over.
"Haibo Barbie doll! I know that's what they show on TV, but that's not a constitutional right." The fuck? Quickly, she narrows her eyes and tilts her head. "Hayi marn! I know you, wena!"
"No, you don't!" I counter while also checking out her name tag.
"Yes, I do." She looks both ways as if she is checking for traffic. "You're Ayize, right?"
"My paperwork says so," I reply in a duh tone.
"So does X, Instagram and all these social media platforms," she replies. "I know you're that sexy Qomoyi's fiancée, the soccer player. I know you, Ayize." I roll my eyes girlishly.
"You've heard of me, but you don't know me," I surmise.
She smacks her teeth and rounds her neck. "Whatever. Give me a second. Let me see what I can do."
"I appreciate that, Constable Mhlongo." I give her a tight smile.
The "starstruck" officer returns in less than five minutes with a smile on her face. "I'm going to let you out to make a call, but keep it short."
I rush out the cell without any questions. Constable Mhlongo leads me through the hallway and to an office I'd noticed during my detention.
"Here," she says, removing the phone from the cradle. "Don't take too long."
