It was a Tuesday evening, and the Perspective studio was quieter than usual. Most of the crew had left early, and those who remained had relatively gone about their duties quietly, preparing the next set of videos for Wednesday and Thursday.
With their work done now, gathered in a loose circle around a table cluttered with laptops and empty coffee cups, Donald, Simba, Benoni, Ines, and Sahjara were gathered in a loose circle near the cameras, their voices low but animated.
Donald looked pretty frustrated, sighing as he rubbed his hand over his head. The ongoing discussion centered on his girlfriend, Miss Amara Abrahams, an American young lady with the most innocent and unassuming of expressions and a firecracker attitude that nobody would even guess existed.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with Amara. Lately, she’s been off. Like, she’s turned so distant,” he muttered. “Won’t chat properly, always got some excuse to avoid me, talking about work, other friends, whatever. I try to bond, plan a date, even just chill and watch a movie or something, and she’s dodging me. Won’t even let me touch her, like, not even a hug. It’s been weeks of this, and I’m stressing, bruv, I really am.”
Ines looked concerned. “That doesn’t sound like her, Donald. Amara’s always been so warm, at least when I’ve seen her. And she’s always seemed so into you. So you have no idea what’s going on? Like, whether something has changed? Work stress, maybe?”
Sahjara nodded. “Yeah, or maybe something personal? I mean, I also don’t know her that well, but like Ines just said, she’s always seemed so into you, so… this is weird. Have you asked her straight up what’s wrong?”
Donald sighed again, looking quite exasperated. “All the time, Sahjee. I ask her all the time. Every time I bring it up, she just says she’s ‘fine’ or ‘busy’. But it’s not adding up. I’m starting to think… I dunno, fam, maybe… she’s not feeling me anymore or something…”
Benoni shook his head. “Nah, bro, don’t jump to conclusions. Could be anything: stress, family stuff, or maybe she’s just in her head about something. You won’t know till you really get her to talk properly. She’s probably one of them types that don’t always spell it out right away.”
Simba nodded as he placed a hand on Donald’s shoulder. “Benoni’s right, Donnie. Don’t start thinking the worst. Amara’s a solid gal, and you’ve said it yourself, she’s mad about you. Maybe she’s just going through something and needs to open up slowly. You just sit her down, no distractions, let her open up about it.”
Before Simba ended his sentence, Donald’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, and his face dropped as he read the WhatsApp notification.
The others noticed his expression and leaned in, concerned.
“What’s wrong, Donnie?” Ines asked.
Donald swallowed hard, and in a low voice, murmured, “It’s… it’s from Amara. Just says, ‘Donald, we need to talk.’ That’s it. Nothing else.”
The room instantly went quiet.
Everyone knew those four words usually preceded something unpleasant. And considering how she had been acting, according to Donald, this wasn’t exactly a very positive-sounding message to receive.
Sahjara let out a deep breath. “Ummmm… Okay, that sounds… serious. But… it doesn’t have to mean the worst, right?”
Ines nodded, trying her best to sound optimistic. “Yeah, it could be anything, Donnie. Maybe she just wants to clear the air? Like, maybe she’s been distant because she’s sorting out her own stuff and wants to talk it through?”
Donald looked quite skeptical, shaking his head. “‘We need to talk’ never means good news, Ines. Come on, we all know this. Fuck it, my stomach’s in knots right now. I can’t believe it. Fucking hell, man…”
Benoni shook his head and placed a hand over Donald’s, his voice firm. “Donnie, Donnie, stop. You’re spiraling, and that’s not good. Go see her. Like, now. Don’t sit here overthinking it. Whatever it is, you’ll handle it better face-to-face. Hiding in the studio ain’t gonna fix it.”
Simba nodded. “Yeah, chale, just go. You’re not gonna know what’s up till you hear her out. It might not be what you’re fearing. Just go and be sure.”
The ladies nodded as well, while Sahjara reached over to give Donald’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Exactly. Shying away won’t do anything but drive you crazy, and it could be for nothing. Go talk to her. And even if it’s something heavy, you know we’re all here for you, yeah? The crew’s got your back.”
Donald took a deep breath, then pocketed his phone. Even though his eyes were still clouded with worry, he forced a small smile and lifted his shoulders. “Alright, alright. I’ll go. Thanks. Just… keep the vibes positive for me, yeah?”
“Of course, bruv! Now go see what she wants to talk about!”
Donald sighed, nodded, and rose to his feet. Benoni raised his protein smoothie in a mock toast, as the others nodded encouragingly. With a deep sigh, he grabbed his jacket from a chair, steeling himself as he headed for the door.
They were right. While that phrase usually came ahead of bad news, he was better off hearing it from her than assuming the worst and avoiding her. Closure would be better obtained by doing that.
***
The room was full of activity minutes after Donald left. Ines and Sahjara were busily sorting through fan comments on a laptop while Benoni chatted with Ash Clovez, who had entered not long after Donald left.
Simba leaned back in his chair, sipping from a water bottle while hoping for the best for his cousin. “Chale, I hope he’s not getting dumped. Let’s just pray she’s not–”
His phone buzzed on the table, interrupting his soliloquy. He peered at it.
A WhatsApp call lit up the screen with the name “Nana Esi.”
His expression tightened.
Looking around, he grabbed the phone and stepped toward a quieter corner of the studio, answering the call.
“Hey, Neesi,” he started, calling her by her nickname in a rather formal tone of voice.
“Hello, Simba.”
Her voice was equally measured and formal.
“Um, how are you doing?”
“I am well, Simba, and you?”
“Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. Just busy with work and all. So, uh, what’s up?”
“Well, I’m calling to let you know that Pokua and I will be coming to London next week. We’ll be there for about 3 weeks. I thought you should know.”
Simba’s heart warmed at the sound of that name.
Pokua, his sweet daughter.
“Wow, that’s-that’s great. Thanks for letting me know. When exactly are you arriving? I’d like to see Pokua.”
The formality in her voice didn’t waver. “We land on Tuesday morning. I’ll send you the details later.”
Simba exhaled quietly, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. His voice turned soft. “Oh, okay. Great. I look forward to seeing her. And… you too, Nana Esi.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Deafening enough to make Simba regret uttering those last words.
“Thank you, Simba. I’ll be in touch with the details. Goodbye.”
The parting response was coolly uttered before the call ended.
Simba sighed and shook his head.
Nana Esi was his first love and the mother of Pokua. Their early days together had been days of bliss and puppy love, and promises of spending together forever. Never would they have expected that they would be this formal and stiff with each other.
Unfortunately, the two of them getting sexually active at the age of nineteen had led to all this. Nana Esi got pregnant as a result, and as expected, this did not go down well with either set of parents. Especially Nana Esi’s parents.
While she kept the child and eventually gave birth, her parents did not like Simba after all this, and while her mother unfortunately passed on three years ago, her father held on to the rancour towards him. All this had affected their relationship so badly, the formality had begun long before Simba moved to the UK.
As he stood there, ruing how the conversation went, he knew one thing: he still had feelings for her.
He had tried to move on, and while Justice had introduced him to Amaliza, a gorgeous girl from Malawi, that relationship had not lasted very long. And try as he could, there was always something holding him back from delving into another relationship.
Maybe it was this faint hope that maybe… just maybe, he and Nana Esi would get back together and have the family they always wanted.
With calls like that, however, that hope remained as faint as ever.
***
The sun was starting to descend as Donald found himself in front of the Camden apartment Amara called home. Standing at the door, his heart pounded as he lifted his hand to knock.
Then he stopped.
He shut his eyes.
It would shatter me if Amara’s going to dump me. Damn! The dating pool right is shit as it is. I can’t lose out on such a sweet stunner like her…
He opened his eyes, already feeling a bit of wetness in them. He shook his head and slapped himself on the side of the head. “Relax, bruv,” he chastised himself. “Get it over with and know what your fate is first. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
He took a deep breath, then knocked.
A few moments later, the door swung open, revealing the pretty, slender Caucasian brunette he called his girl, looking ravishing in a fitted white cotton blouse and tiny denim shorts, her usual home attire.
“Hey, you made it,” she said softly. “Come in.”
Donald stepped inside, his expression a mix of worry and relief at seeing her. His heart continued to beat relentlessly as he followed her to the living room, where a plush sofa and a coffee table cluttered with books and a half-empty mug awaited. As Amara slid into an armchair across from the sofa, Donald lowered himself onto the sofa, his hands clasped together as he stared at her.
She had a pretty tense look on her face, like she had something difficult to tell him.
Oh shit, he thought to himself, this isn’t looking good.
“Umm, Donnie, I know things haven’t been the same between us lately,” Amara started, her voice serious and low. “I know I’ve been… distant for a while, and I’m sorry. I’ve been debating with myself whether to be open with you about what’s going on, and it’s taken a long time, which is why I’ve kinda… pushed you away and all. But I feel the time is now. No more silent games. I want to be straight with you now. I owe you that.”
Donald’s stomach twisted, his mind racing.
Yeah, this is it. The moment of truth.
He braced himself. Surely this was the end; she was going to end things with him.
His jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Alright, Amara,” he answered quietly. “Just… tell me what’s going on.”
Amara took a deep breath, her eyes flickering as she leaned forward, her voice trembling slightly.
Donald inwardly flinched.
This was going to sting. Sting more than when Pamela broke up with him in university.
“Umm, Donnie, the truth is… I’m going through a mental crisis.”
Donald looked up.
He had not expected that.
“Donnie, I don’t know what I want in life anymore. Like… my side business, the one I’ve been pouring my heart into? It’s crashing. I keep failing, and it’s killing me. And adapting to life here, as an American in London, it’s harder than I thought. The culture, the pace, everything. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and I don’t know how to pull myself out. It’s been driving me crazy these last couple of weeks, and that’s why I’ve been so weird. It’s got nothing to do with wanting to leave you or anything like that, Donnie. It’s just… it’s hard, boy, it’s hard.”
Donald’s shoulders relax, relief washing over him.
Thank goodness it was not a breakup! The crew had been right all along. She was just having issues of her own and was slow to open up.
His eyes softened, however, at the thought of her struggling mentally. That was nothing good to hear.
He gestured for her. “Amara, come here,” he called softly. “Please.”
Amara hesitated for a moment, then stood up and crossed over to him, settling onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
“Come here, baby girl,” he murmured smoothly as she wrapped her arms around her neck. “It’s alright, love. You’re good, yeah. Now listen, you, Miss Amara Abrahams, are the strongest person I know. This business stuff? It’s tough, but you’re tougher. You’ll figure it out. Maybe not today, but you will. You’ll find a way to overcome this tough phase. And the whole British life thing? You’re doing better than you think. Some people barely make it through a couple of months, but you’ve been here for what, three years now? You’re doing great, girl. You’ve got this, and just know, I’m here for you, every step of the way. I’m here to support you however I can. I love you, yeah? That’s not changing. I love you and I’m here for you.”
Amara’s eyes glistened with gratitude, a small smile breaking on her face as she leaned on him. She kissed his forehead gently, her lips lingering for a moment. “Thank you, Donnie. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I’m so sorry I kept you locked out for so long, I’m just pretty shit with opening up sometimes, you know.”
“It’s alright, babes,” Donald assured her. “You’ve opened up now, that’s what matters. You ain’t got to suffer in silence no more, yeah? You got me.”
She nodded, her head still leaning on his.
A moment passed, then she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear as her voice dropped to a whisper.
“By the way… guess what? I’m not wearing a bra. And uh, I think it’s time I opened something else up.”
Donald’s eyes widened.
Then a grin spread across his face as his pulse quickened.
Amara smirked, then bit her lower lip as her fingers slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a glimpse of skin that sent a spark of excitement through his veins.
“It’s been a while since you saw me without any clothes on, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh,” he stuttered, fully focused on her almost exposed chest.
This was the firecracker in her that he loved so much. For a girl who seemed so shy and innocent, she loved to taunt her man with her body, and considering she was blessed with a rather generous chest and slender, graceful legs, her man rarely had the mental fortitude to turn her down if she wanted to get ravished.
As she tossed her blouse aside, grinning as it landed on the coffee table, she turned to him and leaned closer, her eyes locked on his, fully loving how hungrily he stared at her generous chest.
Fucking hell, bruv! I would’ve missed some yeh-yeh if I didn’t listen to the crew. I owe them man big time!
“So, we’ve got some catching up to do, Donnie,” Amara whispered seductively. “You ready?”
“Fuck yeah, I’m ready! Come here!”
No more words were spoken, as Donald pulled her closer and their lips met in a hungry, passionate kiss, ready to catch up after weeks of starving each other of the passion they enjoyed so much.
Okay, so Donald didn’t get dumped, and is rather getting some ‘yeh-yeh’. Weird euphemism, but whatever. As for Simba… his case looks interesting…
