CITRUS

9.What Heppens In The Car

It was after Isha and Malik takes one last glance at the mirror before heading out. He looked just about okay for a casual meeting.

He was about to meet Zansi so he made sure he cleared his schedule.

As he steps out of the premises he makes his way towards his car.

He spots Bashir by the courtyard, talking to one of the cleaners from afar. It was rather suspicious because the cleaner was younger and a female.

"Haba, Faty", he mummurs from afar. "You know it could also be for your benefit. Just help me help you..."

It lead to Maliks's curiosity as he steps further to the scene for a closer view and hear clearer.

"No...", she young cleaner protest politely as Malik spots her gently wiggle her arms away from his hold.

"I never said you could leave, Faty.", Bashir says I'm an agressive manner, gripping onto her weist from behind. "I'm telling you not asking."

"But if Ummah sees us--"

Malik had just had enough of Bashir. The pervert was harassing the girl and could likely get her fired.

"Let her go, Bashir.", Malik commands stepping into the courtyard.

Startled, Bashir quickly buries the expression with annoyance. "When the hell...", he hisses.

The younger help, Faty, bows down her head in embarrassment, quickly moving from Bashir.

"Hey.", Malik calls her gently. "Did he hurt you?"

She meekly shakes her head while looking down in embarassement, rushing away.

Malik diverts his sight from the girl, focusing a shooting glare at Bashir.

"Really?"

He couldn't help but notice Bashir watched the girl rush away with a grin. It clearly indicated that he wasn't done with her.

"I don't remember calling you.", Bashir remarks on Malik nosynes.

"Seems like you're calling for trouble, though.", Malik remarks, indicating the girl. "Can't you just stick to your other bitches?"

He knew Bashir just had enough of girls who couldn't get enough of him from the numerous phonecalls and he number of times he wasn't around at night. If it wasn't evident enough, Malik once found a condom wrapper in his own car when Bashir decided to go on ahead and turn his car into a shag crib.

"Why? You want a shot at this one?", Bashir asks, giving him an insulting grin. "She's all yours. She's not even that fine."

Malik gives him a pathetic look. The look he hated. "I don't blame you..."

Bashir pauses his boisterous laughter. His face immediately grows solemn.

"What is that supposed to mean?", he question, stepping towards him.

"I'm just saying.", Malik throws up his arms in a defensive manner. "Fuck bitches, flex - you don't know any better."

"And what about you?", Bashir dares.

"What about me?" , Malik says in defensive manner.

"Working under my old man. What's it like?", he asks.

Malik remained quiet as he stood still, squaring his shoulders.

"All that paper work, running up and down like a lap dog, kissing asses, I know it must be hell to work for the boss man."

"And what's your point?"

"All I'm trying to say is, you need that shit. I'm sure you get down with that shit when nobody's watching. And yet here you are, standing righteous, talking like a good sammatitan while you need that shit when my dad puts you through hell."