Another busy day at Amfo Visions Entertainment.

The rehearsal space was buzzing with the familiar hum of activity: props being arranged, lights adjusted, and scripts flipped through as everyone prepared for another long but rewarding day of rehearsals. So far, everything was moving according to plan.

A scene involving Kwame and his best friend Samuel, along with his sister Gifty – meant to be one of Rose’s close friends – had just been rehearsed, and it was acted smoothly, with Sakyi, Etornam and Gertrude, the actress for Gifty, carrying out their parts very well. Of course, Leslie could not be more pleased to see this breed of actors executing his story to near-perfection.

Now it was back to another scene between the main lovers, and as Dufie and Sakyi stood center stage, they  maintained a careful distance from each other, their eyes focused anywhere but on each other.

Leslie strode onto the stage, a clipboard in hand, his voice carrying over the quiet chatter. “Alright, guys!” he announced to the duo, “today we’re going to try something different—improv work. I want to see you bring more of your own emotions into the characters. We’re going to start with a pivotal scene—Kwame and Rose’s argument over Kwame’s plan to leave the village. Only this time, I want you to improvise the dialogue. Make it raw. Make it real.”

Sakyi’s jaw tightened as he glanced at Dufie, whose eyes were already locked on his.

This did not sound good to their ears. The atmosphere was already extremely formal between them; they simply stuck to what was in the script and played their roles effectively without anything more. Being asked to improvise, though? Meaning they needed to fish out their own phrases and statements? For an argument, no less?

They were in no delusions about this request: it was going to be tough.

“Got it, guys?”

The two quickly nodded at Leslie’s question. “Yeah, yeah, got it,” Sakyi replied, giving him a quick smile before turning his eyes back to Dufie.

Leslie nodded and stepped back. “Don’t think too hard about it,” he added. “Just go with the flow, make it feel real. Let’s see how much emotional depth we can bring out.”

Dufie swallowed and nodded, while Sakyi clenched his jaw.

“Alright. And… action!”

They stepped into character instantly.

“Me, I just don’t understand why you have to leave ooo, Kwame,” Dufie, as Rose, began, frustration laced in her tone. “Everything you need is here! Why do you want to run away?”

Sakyi, as Kwame, let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Run away? Seriously? Is that what you think this is? I’m trying to build a future, Rose! You wouldn’t get it now, I know. But it’s for the future.”

Dufie’s eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t get it? Are you for real? Kwame, you’ve seen everything I’ve been through! Everything! And now you’re acting like I don’t know anything about sacrifice?”

Sakyi scoffed. “Sacrifice? Please, give me a break! You don’t know the first thing about real sacrifice. You wouldn’t understand what it means to lose something real. You-you don’t know what it’s like to lose something precious and be broken. You don’t know about loss the way I do!”

Those words cut sharper than intended. And it was evident, to Dufie, that he was going beyond character and throwing personal jabs at her.

Her expression darkened for a fraction of a second before she snapped back, her voice edged with something deeper than performance. “Excuse me? You’re really one to talk about loss, aren’t you? You act like you’re the only one who’s been hurt in all of this! Maybe if you could look beyond your own damn pride, you’d realize that not everyone leaves because they want to. Some of us have no choice.”

A cold silence settled over the place. The two were too busy going at each other to notice how uneasy the atmosphere had become, with crew members and fellow actors shifting uncomfortably as they watched them go a little too fiercely at each other.

Sakyi’s jaw tensed. His fists clenched at his sides. “At least when I make a decision, I don’t just disappear and show up and pretend like nothing ever happened.”

Dufie’s lips parted slightly, her breath shallow. “And at least I don’t hold on to the past like it’s the only thing keeping me alive.”

Sakyi’s eyes flashed with fury. “You actually have the nerve to–“

“CUT!” Leslie’s voice sliced through the charged atmosphere.

Sakyi stopped instantly, coming to himself as embarrassment took over.

Leslie stared at them, eyes narrowed. “What the hell was that?”

Sakyi swallowed, his voice unsteady as he stammered, “I-it’s, uh, method acting. Just trying to… uh, you know, bring more au-authenticity to the role.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… th-that’s right. Method acting,” Dufie hurriedly agreed, nodding.

Leslie’s gaze remained fixed on them, totally unconvinced. “Method acting for the where? Abeg, I know what method acting is. So I know what you’re telling me is bulls**t. Because what I saw… what we all just saw… wasn’t just acting. I felt that tension all the way over here.”

He looked between them, his jaw clenched. “Now look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and frankly, I don’t care. But let me make one thing clear—this production doesn’t need your unresolved issues or whatever bleeding into the play. I need cohesion, not chaos. So whatever this is between you guys, fix it. ASAP. The last thing I want is tension and angst between my leads. Understood?”

Sakyi and Dufie nodded awkwardly, both looking flustered.

He then turned away, muttering under his breath as he addressed the crew. “Everyone, take five. Regroup, reset, and let’s try again.”

***

Sakyi stormed into his dressing room, slamming the door shut behind him. He ran a hand over his face, sighing sharply as he sank into the chair in front of the mirror. 

He groaned, pressing his hands against his temples. Damn it. He had let his emotions slip. He wasn’t supposed to. This was supposed to be professional. Devoid of any feelings.

I knew this improv thing wasn’t going to end well, he thought to himself as he shook his head. 

A knock on the door made him straighten up. “Yeah?”

The door creaked open, and Etornam stepped inside, his usual easygoing expression replaced with curiosity. “Yo, chale,” he started, leaning against the doorframe. “What happened back there? That definitely wasn’t just improv. That was …something else.” 

Sakyi sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “Not now, Etornam.” 

Etornam shook his head as he stepped further inside. “Come on, my guy. I’ve been noticing it for a while now. The way you no dey give am face sef unless you have to. Ibi serious. Like, the tension between you two? Ibi thick ankasa.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head. “Wey, chale, I sure sey ibi personal. Coz honestly, like ibi me, no be small moving I go dey move to am. Bro, the babe be 10 over 10! See fineness, see body, see sass! Chale!” 

Sakyi let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Not everything that glitters is gold oo, my guy.” 

Etornam raised a brow. “Aha! That’s exactly what I needed to hear. So now I know there’s something up. So, what is it?”

Sakyi hesitated. “Chale… ibi… ibi complicated matter.”

Etornam frowned. “Why, you then am get some history or something?”

Sayki went silent once again.

He wasn’t the type to open up about personal stuff, and certainly not about this issue. But the way Etornam was looking at him—curious but not pushy, just a guy trying to understand—made him sigh in resignation.

“Okay, fine. Yes. We were together,” he admitted, voice low. “For a long time. And then one day… she just—” His jaw clenched. “She cut me off. No warning. No explanation. Just disappeared.”

Etornam’s brows lifted in surprise. “Ah, really? You mean, she ghost you?”

Sakyi nodded.

Etornam’s brows then furrowed in sympathy. “Damn, bro.” He ran a hand over his head. “That’s cold. Sorry, chale.”

Sakyi only grunted in response. 

For a moment, neither of them spoke. 

Then Etornam sighed and sat on the couch. “Hmm, chale. I get it now. I see why you bore. Honestly, I’d be pissed off as well. But bro, you for find a way to deal with it oo. Coz the way Leslie bore right now? He no dey play around. And if you keep letting this bleed into rehearsals, it’s not gonna end well.”

Sakyi exhaled slowly, nodding. “I know, chale. I for do my best. I know.”

Etornam patted his shoulder before standing up. “Just work on it, chale. Coz whether you like it or not, you and Dufie are stuck together for this play. Just try your best and make it through. At least, for professionalism’s sake.” 

Sakyi gave a small nod, watching as Etornam left the room. 

Left alone again, he stared at his reflection, jaw tight. 

It’s the truth, chale, it is. But it’s easier said than done.

***

Dufie stepped into her dressing room, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. She tossed her script onto the vanity table and exhaled sharply, rubbing her face.

What a disaster. That simple improv exercise had spiraled into something way too personal, way too raw. Now it was no secret that there was no love lost between them.

She scoffed under her breath. “It’s all his fault, though,” she muttered to herself. “Continually holding on to his pain like some badge of honour…”

A knock sounded at the door before it creaked open, and in walked Gertrude, one of the supporting actresses, followed closely by Akosua, the makeup artist.

“Ei, madam,” Gertrude started, folding her arms. “What was that on stage?” 

Akosua nodded in agreement, setting down her brush kit. “Yes o, that was way too serious. The way you and Sakyi were really going at it, it looked very personal. Leslie looked like he wanted to strangle both of you.”

Dufie kept her expression neutral, taking a seat in front of the mirror. “Oh, it was nothing, it was nothing,” she dismissed lightly. “Just… a small misunderstanding. And some other external matters that just made me act out of line.” 

Gertrude raised an eyebrow. “Just a small misunderstanding? Dufie, that was tense. And to be honest, you two have been acting weird towards each other since the first day of rehearsals. You sure it’s nothing? Coz that’s not what we’re seeing.”

Dufie forced a chuckle, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s nothing serious. I mean it. Just a… few things I need to clear up on my own.” 

The two women exchanged a glance, clearly unconvinced.

“Look, I’ll go and apologize to Leslie. I just have a few… issues that are making me act a little out-of-pocket. And I know, that’s not good enough; I promise I’ll be a lot more professional from now on. Trust me, this won’t happen again.”

Akosua simply sighed. “Well, I really hope so. Whatever it is, please just try and keep it together. Leslie isn’t the type to tolerate behind-the-scenes drama affecting his production. You and Sakyi are the leads, and if this tension continues, it’s going to make things awkward for everyone. So please, my dear, I beg you, whatever the issues are, sort them out as soon as possible.” 

Gertrude nodded in agreement.

Dufie gave them a small smile, even though irritation still simmered beneath the surface. “I hear you. And I’ll definitely sort them out.”

Satisfied, Gertrude and Akosua made their way to the door, but not before Akosua added, “And please, if you need to vent, we’re here, okay?” 

Dufie simply nodded, and once they were gone, she let out a long sigh, sinking back into her chair.

Of course, they were right. She knew she had to maintain professionalism, but Sakyi was making it so damn hard with his emotional outbursts.

She would do her possible best, that was for sure. But until he also learned to rein in his hurt and stop snapping at her, one thing was certain—this was only going to get harder.

Yeah, this isn’t going well. If they don’t get themselves together, it is not gonna be good for everyone else…