Page 50

W HAT IS THE TRUTH ABOUT TIMI LAWSON?

Sporax Media confesses to spreading fake news. Will Gistcarrier and the others do same?

Do these gossip blogs post verified news in the first place?

Yinmu. You believe them before abi you no believe them?

Me, I know Timi Lawson bribed them.

With which money, the same one you all snatched from him with your wicked trolling? Make una rest abeg.

Guys let's not get distracted. This is what these celebrities do. Have you all forgotten the newspaper clipping, the music-store dude?

Simple answers. Adopted. A staff or a friend.

Sporax Media just dey do back-to-back posts. Abi Spider don catch up?

Who's Spider?

Lips sealed.

#IsTimiLawsongayornot

“I promise you we have everything covered here at Alphonso's.” The elderly doctor in wire-rimmed glasses seated opposite Timi and Alex in his cramped office smiled broadly.

Timi tucked his phone into his pocket. “And what's covered exactly?”

Alex kicked his legs, then smiled at the doctor. “You don't have to–”

“No, it's okay. Physiotherapists, care givers, registered nurses, a resident doctor, we have all. You said so yourself, you're here because it's the best.”

Actually, Alphonso's Care Home wasn't Timi's choice.

While compiling a list of state-of-the-art nursing homes for Alex's mother, he'd come across one close to his estate that ticked all his boxes.

After receiving the list, Alex had called and thanked him in a not-too-steady voice for being so thoughtful.

Then, he crossed out Timi's choice solely for its ridiculous pricing.

“But I'm also contributing,” Timi had protested.

“No, you're not.”

“Yes, I am. Don't friends help each other out?”

“By donating 500k every month?”

“Yes. Any problem? Isn't it for my friend's mother? We're friends, aren't we?”

Alex's sigh had travelled over the wire. “Only you can make friendship sound so threatening. Timi, you sent people to comb the entire state to get the best care homes. Trust me, you've earned the premium badge in the friendship league. But I must do this myself. Remember? Planting roots?”

“Trees standing side by side eventually share roots. Ain't we friends standing side by side? ”

“I dare you to mention friend one more time.”

“Frie—”

“We're going with option C, and you're keeping your money. That's final.”

Well, option C sucked, and he didn't like medical personnel who smiled too broadly. It was like a funeral-home owner trying to come up with a fun advert.

“Err…if you say so,” he replied now to Dr Isa. “So, to reiterate, the exclusive services of a nurse, carer and cook is something we wouldn't mind, once your…establishment has that option.”

“Noted, sir.”

“Her room...is that the biggest TV you guys have here? She watches a lot of Africa Magic, and her eyesight isn't very good…”

Dr Isa laughed. “Ah, well, sir, as I said, we're just starting, so, well, we hope to improve on our services.”

Timi glanced at the ceiling fan dispelling humid air. “And the ACs, are they on 24/7?”

“Well, that depends on the patient and the weather, sir. There's natural ventilation though. I believe you also chose here for the environment.”

“I particularly love the trees,” Alex said, smiling politely at the doctor. Though, Timi could hear his teeth grinding.

“If you say so,” Timi said. “One more thing.”

“Please, go ahead,” smiled the doctor.

“How amenable are you to room expansion and customization? We could break down the walls in her room, change the bathroom designs, a smart WC wouldn't be a bad id—”

Alex got up, dragging Timi with him by his arm. “Doctor, please give us a minute,” he said, then propelled Timi out of the office.

“The ceilings, doctor,” he called over Alex's shoulder, “gypsum would keep heat away and minimise leaka—”

Alex slammed the door shut.

“That was rude,” he scolded, once Alex released his arm in the glossy-tiled hallway .

“You will go back to the car and wait for me, while I round things off with the good doctor,” Alex gritted. “Understood?”

Timi stared at his scowling face, then capitulated. “Fine. But if I visit Mumsie and I still see that death trap of a recliner in the general room, the good doctor and I would have a huge problem.”

Alex nodded his head in exasperation. “Yeah, yeah. Just go. I'll be out shortly.” At the door leading to the office, he paused and said softly, “Thank you for being here and for everything.” Then, went in.

And Timi stood there, frowning yet smiling. Heart pleasantly full but aching. The precise image of what his life had become.

Friendship with Alex was the toughest skin to fit into, and as the weeks rolled by, he was gradually morphing into this agglomeration of opposites.

Existing simultaneously on both ends of the emotion spectrum.

He was frustratingly happy. Hungrily contented.

Distractedly effective. And recently, anxiously composed.

Things were going too well for him. Rukky seemed to have taken the threats seriously and had even reached out a couple of times to entice him for an exclusive. In her eyes, Timi had attained entertainment perfection.

He knew Spider and had him working for him.

Unfortunately, Spider wasn't someone anyone knew completely, because Spider wasn't a person but an organisation of individuals who collectively worked independently. And Triple T was a revered member.

The anger, fear or repulsion Timi had expected to feel upon meeting the depraved Spider never surfaced. Instead, respect and a little awe oozed from his pores as Alex made official introductions, and astonishment at how unbelievable his life had played out.

What were the odds that Alex would meet Spider T, and Timi would meet Alex, and they would play a huge role in his life?

What were the freaking odds?

He had no complaints though. At thirty, he finally had a badass friend who rolled with organised badasses. And maybe he gave off this air, because Agu didn't say much about the recent change.

When he called, he'd simply grunted, “Don't say it's over until it's over. I believe Red Tinsel is still on track, yes? ”

And for a moment, Timi itched to tell him to go fuck himself, but the journey he'd started alone now had a few key travellers accompanying him. The destination they set their eyes on was the only reasonable stop that would satisfy everyone.

“Sure, why not?” he'd replied, and that had been that.

Alex stuck to his resolution and began baking in earnest, with Mrs. Fash telling everyone who cared to listen that the Fash's café had become a kingdom for pastries.

“Any snack you want, any preference you have, any health concerns you're battling, any body size you're in, we've got you covered,” she would sing. “Fash's café; unos pro-omnibus, omnes pro uno.”

When she appeared at the filming location, bells ringing from her food truck, bearing the apple fritters and pumpkin doughnuts Timi had ordered for everyone, Timi would drop all to help distribute, singing along at the top of his lungs.

“Fash's café; unos pro-omnibus, omnes pro uno.”

By week two, everyone had begun anticipating the arrival of the funny pro uno lady with the purple truck.

Everyone, except Nejeere, who didn't bother to pretend anymore. Timi contemplated addressing the elephant, but his tongue just wouldn't cooperate whenever it had to form the word 'friend' and 'Alex' in the same sentence. So, he'd left things cold and distant.

“Watch out for that one,” Mrs. Fash said one of the days. “She's not happy with you.”

Thankfully, Alex never accompanied Mrs. Fash on her trips. In fact, the meeting with Dr Isa was the only time they saw physically after the night at Alex's place. Which had been too short as Timi had to rush back to work because an actor had to fly out the next day.

They'd implicitly agreed to limit their interactions to phone calls during the day and hasty goodnight messages, after they'd mistakenly brought each other to orgasm during a heated call one night.

Nothing about their actions spelt platonic friendship, and Charles, who Timi hadn't spoken to in weeks, and it didn't feel like his life was over, was the point of reference.

But being friends, however skewed it felt, was their wisest decision, and he just needed to curb his hunger for more.

As later scenes approached, with the crew getting pumped to travel to Enugu, the final filming location, Dame B decided to throw one of her impromptu parties.

She always insisted they were unplanned , but with all the fanfare of top Fuji and Afrobeat musicians performing live, the heavy presence of second-grade politicians, and the food—amala, pounded yam, rice, moimoi, different soups with assorted meat, beef, mutton, chicken, and drinks, alcoholic/non-alcoholic, foreign and local brands—her dictionary was certainly different from everyone else's.

Timi hated her parties, but this time, he welcomed it. He needed to unwind and a good reason to see Alex again. However, Alex declined the invitation for a trip to Alphonso's and Timi couldn't find a reason to pout.

As the star of Buck's latest project, he circled the tents, bowing to boisterous, fat-bellied political robbers and senior colleagues, and bumping arms with fellow stars and acquaintances. And when he was sure he'd made his presence known, he sought out Dame B to be excused.

However, as he walked across the kitchens, dodging people in purple check aprons wheeling bain-maries in and out, someone tapped his shoulder, placed a folded paper in his palm, and disappeared through the back door.

He knew what it was before he read its content.

Come to the penthouse. Let no one see you.

Without thinking twice, he headed for the hidden backyard door leading to the other side of the mansion.

In the penthouse's living room, the natural light that usually streamed from the tall windows was absent as someone had adjusted the blinds to evening-mode and forgotten to turn on the accented lights lining the white walls.