Page 23

A n enjoyable moment in Timi's career was the table readings. As it marked the official opening of a new world he was about disappearing into. More so when he became popular enough to choose what story to concretize.

However, for Red Tinsel's, he revelled in a different kind of pleasure.

“Why should I trust you?” Was the only doubt D'Yoyo expressed once the meeting at Timi's house wrapped up.

Across the table now, he caught D'Yoyo's eye and was rewarded with an imperceptible nod.

Timi smiled inwardly, then rapped on the table. Dame B, who trinkled around the room, going on about Buck's ethics, pursed her glossy red lips. A tiny frown wrinkling her heavily caked forehead.

“You know I hate interruptions, Timi dear,” she said in lilting tones like she sang the words.

Timi flashed her a smile. “You love me, Mama. And you hate it when I forget important things. I'm afraid I might, if I don't talk now.”

Opposite him, Nonso looked constipated. The others, who thankfully weren't Nonso's cult of Agu's ass-lickers, regarded the exchange with expressions ranging from fond exasperation to impassiveness.

Dame B rolled her eyes. She had three weaknesses.

Her need for attention, expensive jewellery, and Timi Lawson.

Though, if she were to choose between thirty minutes of uninterrupted TV time and saving him from the jaws of a ravenous tiger, Timi hoped the animal would leave his face presentable enough for an open casket funeral.

“Go ahead. After all, this is Buck, and…” she smiled, urging the rest of the room with nods.

“Buck lives matter,” they responded in unison.

“I have a suggestion,” Timi said. “Instead of the boring introductions, we can play a little game. You know, determine how well we've immersed the script, while having fun at it.”

Maxwell snapped a finger. “Fantastic idea. High spirits and morale booster. Fantastic, fantastic idea, Timi.”

Timi's head ached. One more buck or fantastic and he would go fantastically buck naked. If only to shock them into silence.

“So, we introduce ourselves. Then, summarise our roles in Red Tinsel for others to guess our character names.

I'll go first.” He cleared his throat. Theatrically loud.

“Hello, I'm Timi Lawson. I'll blow shit up for the woman I love, and for my best buddy who was stupid enough to get kidnapped by a teenager.”

Laughter erupted, followed by a chorus of, “Zik Effiong!”

Excited chattering ensued, as everyone geared up for the challenge. Dame B, no longer the centre of attraction, moved towards the sliding doors, Sour Shadrach and Charles close to her heels. D'Yoyo sprang up too, and Timi followed.

In the brightly lit corridor leading to the elevator, Alex gave them a thumbs up from where he leaned against a wall. Female assistants of other actors stood too close to him, giggling and looking a lot like badly-behaved little Nejeeres. How disgraceful.

“Mama,” Timi called, hurrying towards Dame B, who moved like a queen leading her soldiers into battle.

He and D'Yoyo caught up with her as the metal doors slid open, but before Sour Shadrach could get in, Timi dragged him back by the elbow. Charles and D'Yoyo needed Dame B's unwavering attention before she jetted off to London. “Not so fast, S.S, we gotta talk.”

Dame B swung her small bag at him. “You better not give anyone more trouble.”

He beamed. “Send me a picture when you land, Mama.”

As soon as the elevator began descending, he released Shadrach's elbow. “You know what? Never mind. Maxwell will know better.” Then, he strode off, leaving him gaping after him.

He entered the last office on the right and darted for the window facing the lobby. Behind him, the door opened, and fresh lemon soon wafted to him.

Alex. The other reason he'd been anticipating the script reading. Idleness was the devil's toolbox, and the wretch had been screwing and unscrewing Timi's brain at will. Burying himself in work was the only way to take possession of the toolbox and re-screw loose nuts.

He arrived at this conclusion yesterday evening, after Alex told him he was catching a late-night movie with Nejeere, and Timi's stomach had twisted into one giant knot, tongue tasting like he drank a mixture of bitter leaf, lime and salt.

He, who preferred his living room when watching his horror movies, even had to mentally gag himself from volunteering to tag along.

After a few minutes of wondering why he'd felt that way, a light in his mind finally came on.

His hypothalamus was dead.

The aborted plans had left him huddled in the interstice of who he was and who he could become.

And Alex, with his endearing sharp wit and their shared vulnerabilities, had wriggled his way in.

Causing Timi's dead brain, which viewed all his connections as stage props and had no clue what to do with deeper connections, fumbled at decoding if Alex was a friend, crush or… lover.

But he had to admit, Alex had become a friend.

At least on his own part. With Uncle Jude, he always felt undeserving.

With Charles, Nejeere and other close acquaintances, he couldn't help viewing them as fob watches, or paintings or greens, who needed him just as he needed them.

Removable stage props once the final curtain fell.

With Alex, however, he never obsessed over what skin to adorn or what prop was befitting.

And when they talked, the words were like echoes of forgotten conversations.

Rising clamour snapped him back to the present. A silent Alex stood beside him, peering down the window. Timi could only catch a glimpse of a few heads, but it was obvious Ify had come through. Spreading a little rumour that had all the vultures gathering at Buck's reception hall.

Buck is about releasing a new T.V show. How well do you think Red Tinsel would do compared to Haz_Brothers' Blood Rose? Considering the major failures Buck has suff—

“Buck has been doing gloriously well!”

From high up here, Dame B's decibels still rattled his bones.

I heard you might not be the right person to ask, seeing as Mr. Nwabufor, popularly known as Agu, is the brain behind the success of —

Remorse welled at setting up Dame B, but if Agu assumed his involvement with Buck and Red Tinsel would remain a secret, then he had no clue how far a wounded beast was willing to go .

As the questions poured in, whatever doubt he harboured about the press' role in the grand plan flew into space. Uncle Jude would be saved by the same people who put him in a position to be saved.

The door burst open, revealing Nonso's P.A. The one who had stood closest to Alex on the corridor, looking like she was about crawling into his body.

“There you…oh.” The pretty, petite lady's eyes widened when she caught sight of Timi. She gave a low bow.

He brushed past Alex without looking at him, acknowledged her greeting with a nod, and returned to the reading.

The table reading lasted for five hours, and while everyone filed out, Timi stayed back to have a talk with Maxwell.

As planned, immediately Agu got outed as Buck, D'yoyo made a show of storming off.

However, since everyone had been paid upfront, D'Yoyo returning to complete the show wouldn't raise Agu's suspicion.

Nevertheless, he still needed to reassure Maxwell everything was on track.

As they talked, Eketi Wright stepped in, her ostentatious afro hiding a stormy face beneath.

She sparkled in her green gown with a cut-out frontage barely covering a gleaming ebony skin that made mockery of the inherent colourism in the industry.

Free from the curse of unflattering angles and occasional patchy skin celebrities endured, cameras never stopped begging for shots, until she suffered a scandal so bad and fell off the face of the earth.

Red Tinsel would be her comeback after a year. A tentative step into the limelight that had exalted her, then ripped away the splendour it bestowed.

Before all that, Timi had seen her naked awesomeness.

Slender, but curvy in the places that mattered.

Soft, yet wild. Loud and giving. As she rode him, she'd slid a finger beneath him and probed his tight ring of muscle. And Timi had headbutted her out of his bed, before either of them could fully understand what had happened. Lips bleeding, cradling her jaw, Eketi had demanded an explanation. But all Timi could give were incoherent words accusing her of taking him for whom he wasn’t and yelling for Sulei to drive her home.

It was the last time they had any contact, until today at the table reading where she'd pretended to not know him.

“Is it your intention to make me wait every time?” she said, as soon as she got close. Years of unanswered questions and resentment flashed within those black irises.

Timi sighed. “You can see what's happening here, right?”

Maxwell got up. His eyes held a twinkle Timi didn't like. “Oh, we're done. You two—” he faltered when his gaze landed on Eketi’s sparkling ones. Timi understood. Everything about her boiled the blood of an average man.

Maxwell cleared his throat. “— you two should, err, trash things out. I don't care how you do it but find that spark, Zik and Adena.”

Eketi wriggled her nose at him as he all but escaped the room, then eyed Timi's legs now crossed on the table.

“You should have at least called to cancel,” she said coldly.

Timi cocked his head. “Why? As far as I know, I didn't agree to any dinner.”

Even after all these years, his dismissiveness still hurt her. Her eyes brimmed with it. “But Agu arranged it for—”

“So, take it up with him nau, why am I being bothered?”

She walked up, till she could rest her palms close to his feet. “I assumed we were on the same page.”