The time: 8:35 pm.

The venue: The Bethnal Tap, a cozy pub in East London with dark wood tables and football scarves pinned to the walls. Like anyone would expect on a Thursday evening, the pub was packed to the rafters with patrons pleased with the opportunity to have a pint after work.

In a corner at a round table, a deeply deflated Donald was seated with Benoy, Justice, Benoni, and Thomas-Muller. Justice and Thomas-Muller, upon seeing how distraught their colleague was at this sudden shocker of a breakup, decided he needed some time with the boys to try and cheer him up. While the others had other commitments to attend to, Justice managed to get Benoni and Benoy, who were out of the office when it happened, to join them to help lift Donald’s spirits.

Pint glasses and a basket of chips sat on the table, but while the others took sips and gulps, Donald had barely touched his drink. His eyes were fixed on the table, his usual spark dimmed.

He just could not understand. It was the weirdest and most savage of bait-and-switch situations. A few weeks ago, he was actually scared this would happen, only for her to assure him she simply had personal issues and still needed him around. Now, just when he was back to being intoxicated with her good loving, she was calling it quits?

This made no sense.

He had tried calling her back, but her phone was switched off. It was just so hard to understand.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I can’t lie, broskis, I’m proper shattered right now. Like, what the fuck? One minute, me and her are good. Joking around, talking about holidays, planning dates… next thing, she’s on the phone, saying it’s over. No warning, no reason, she just said she’s… done. Why’d she do me like that, man? What did I do wrong?”

The rest of the crew shook their heads. Obviously, none of them were impressed by Amara’s antics.

Justice leaned forward. “See, my brother, as far as I can see, you never do anything wrong. Ibi like sey she dey collect for another side. Girls don’t just switch up like that unless they’ve got someone else knacking them somewhere. She just exposed herself, she’s not a loyal girl. It’s cold, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Better you know now than for her to continue playing you for a fool, you get?”

Benoni nodded while sipping his pint. “Yep, straight facts. I’ve seen this sort of thing before, and it’s the same old shit. Nine out of ten times, a sudden breakup with no explanation usually means she’s probably been moving shady for a while. It hurts, man, but you’re better off without someone who’d do you dirty like that.”

Thomas-Muller shrugged as he picked a chip and popped it in his mouth. “Yeah, fam. I’m with them. It’s mad weird, innit? No warning at all? Like, what’s her game? I’m proper puzzled, bruv. But you don’t need that kinda stress. You’re a good guy, Donnie. She fumbled you, not the other way around.”

Benoy seemed the most irritated among the group, a scowl on his face as he leaned back. “I’m just vexed, bruv. That’s a bitch move, I can’t lie. She had you thinking everything was sweet, acting all lovey-dovey, thrusting her big tits in your face to make you think she’s still feeling you… then she pulls this? That’s deception, plain and simple. That’ll fuck with your head. You don’t deserve that dodgy shit, Donnie. Proper foul behavior.”

Donald managed a weak nod, staring into his pint. The group was right.

That truly was foul behaviour from Amara. If she wasn’t into him anymore, she should have just ended things properly with him. Stringing him along only to drop him when she felt tired of him was nothing short of cruel and selfish.

Justice clapped Donald’s shoulder. “Listen, my guy, you’re a king, you hear? Number one Tottenham fan on the internet! You deserve a real babe who loves you, not some yeye girl who just wants to play nonsense games.”

Thomas-Muller nodded, smirking. “Yeah, mate, imagine you with a proper queen who loves Spurs as much as you? She’s out there. This one? Forget this bandooloo ting. You’re too big for that bullshit, you get me?”

Benoy raised his glass. “To Donald finding a real one! Someone who’s got your back, not stabbing it. You’re gonna be alright, bruv. We got you.”

The group raised their glasses, clinking them together and taking a sip.

Donald exhaled quietly, forcing a half-smile. As crushed as he was, he had to appreciate how quickly they moved to spend time with him. Mickey and Simba couldn’t be around; they had to attend to their wife and daughter, respectively. They did promise to check up on him the next day, however.

And he knew they would. For now, this squad was enough.

“Appreciate you lot, yeah? Means a lot to me, having you around. I’ll bounce back… just stings right now.”

“Oh, it’ll definitely sting. Definitely,” Justice commented. “Go through the process, then let it go. She’s not worth the stress, alright?”

“Alright, safe. You sure I shouldn’t call her back or go see her?”

Benoy shook his head vehemently. “Nah, bruv. Don’t waste your time. The gyal don’t respect you. Let her go her way. If you go begging and shit, she’ll use that power over you to fuck you up even more. Don’t do it. Let her thrust her tits in another brudda’s face if that’s what she wants. She’s for the streets; let her stay there, innit?”

“A hundred percent, bruv,” Thomas-Muller agreed. “Now, take time to heal, then let’s get Justice’s gyal to hook you up with an African queen.”

The crew laughed. Damilola worked at a higher education institution with a lot of workers from diverse backgrounds. She had a close group of friends who were from different African countries, and almost all of them were single, so she often joked about being a wingwoman for them if they were interested.

And she actually delivered, to their pleasant surprise.

“Right!” Benoni agreed. “You know she’ll come through for a brother. Came through for Simba, even though that didn’t last. Came through for TMA. She’ll do you good.”

“Damn straight,” Thomas-Muller agreed, leaning back with a satisfied look on his face. “Nothing like a beautiful, loyal Liberian gyal to make you happy. Man’s living MJ’s dream, you know like that?”

Justice snorted. “See who’s talking about loyalty. You that you’ve named yourself after a Bayern Munich legend, but you support Liverpool. Oga, abeg!”

“Bruv, not this argument again! I can love a footballer without supporting his team, innit?”

Donald couldn’t help but laugh along with the others as the two continued their age-old argument about TMA’s ‘misplaced priorities’ in adding the surname of a Bayern Munich icon to his name and not supporting the team.

***

“No way! She just… dumped him? Just like that?”

Mickey nodded solemnly as he sat on the couch, his usual energy dimmed by the event. Carola, in a cozy maternity sweater, was curled up beside him, a bowl of salad in her hands. She had been taking the anti-nausea medication, and it was slowly helping her to widen her diet a bit.

“Just like that. Over the phone, Carola. No prior warning, no fight, no issues. She just told my man she don’t want him no more. Man was gutted, bruv. I’ve never seen him like that.”

Carola shook her head sadly. “Poor Donald. That’s just messed up. Did she say why?”

Mickey shook his head. “Nothing. He said she just said she’s not interested anymore.”

Carola had a thoughtful look on her face. “Hmmm… do you think she’s cheating? Maybe she’s got a new guy and just decided to bounce.”

“Yeah, that crossed my mind. It was so sudden, innit? Like, one minute they’re all good, next minute she’s done. Could be another guy, yeah. And she’s a real pagan for that. I know I use that word a lot, but this right here: real pagan settings, you get me? Messed Donnie up so bad. The brudda couldn’t say much, just went quiet. Justice and TMA decided to take him out to cheer him up. Broke my heart seeing him like that.”

He stared at the ceiling, his expression heavy. Then he turned to Carola, a deeper sadness present on his features.

“It’s mad, Carola. Both my cousins are out here struggling with their love lives. Simba’s still stuck in that cold, clipped vibe with Nana Esi; she’s barely talking to him unless it’s about their daughter. And now Donald’s girl just up and leaves him? I feel proper sad, babe. Coz I still remember it like it was yesterday, how Simba used to go on and on about how much he loved Nana Esi, planning our big triple dates—you, me, Simba, Nana Esi, Donald, and his girl, all out together, laughing, vibing. We were gonna make it a thing, y’know? Now it’s all falling apart for them. And I hate it, coz babes, what we got is so amazing, and I want that for them.”

Carola, seeing how downhearted her husband looked, reached for his hand and squeezed it gently.

“Oh, babe, I know it hurts to see them like this. I remember those times so well: Simba talking about Nana Esi so happily, Donald always bragging about his girl’s sweetness and lovely ways. It’s rough, I know, but you’re such a good cousin for caring about them so much.” She shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “Things’ll work out, Mickey. Maybe not today, but one day. They’re good guys—Simba’s a great dad, and Donald’s got a big heart. They’ll find women who love them the way I love you. Someone who sees how special they are. I believe that.”

Mickey turned to her, a soft smile on his face. “You always know what to say, don’t you, babe? I’m proper lucky, innit? Got you, our little one on the way, this almost-perfect life. Just wish my cousins could have a piece of this happiness, y’know?”

“They will, babe,” Carola assured, kissing his cheek. “Love’s got a way of finding people when the time’s right. For now, you keep being there for them, like you always are. And we’ll keep planning those triple dates for when the right ones come along.”

“Hundred percent, babes.”

As he kissed her forehead, Mickey’s phone pinged on the coffee table, lighting up with a WhatsApp notification from their cousins’ group chat. He picked it up, and Carola leaned in to look.

“What’s that?” she wondered as he opened the message.

It was a video from Simba.

Mickey tapped play. The screen immediately filled with heartwarming images of Simba in his car, with Pokua beside him in the passenger seat, both dancing and singing along to Collabo by P-Square and Don Jazzy.

“Chale, Donnie, from Poki and I to you!” Simba announced over the sound of the music. Pokua waved at the camera, calling out, “Hiiiiii, Uncle Donnie!”

Mickey chuckled, moving his head to the beat, while Carola smiled. “Awww, how sweet! I love the way he did that to cheer Donnie up. And look at her, she’s so big and beautiful now!”

“Swears! Looking like her pops right now. Man’s going through his own mess with Nana Esi, but he’s still looking out for Donald. Proper family, innit? This video’s gonna make Donald’s day, I reckon.”

“Yep. It’s beautiful. Your cousins are gold, Mickey. They’ll be alright, you’ll see.”

“No doubt. And now I’m in the mood for some Afrobeats. Where’s the remote, lemme get onto YouTube… oya baby, make we collabo…”

Well, it’s good to see the guys rally around Donald to comfort and encourage him after that cruel breakup. You only wonder who the guy Amara’s dumped him for is…