Chapter 6

        Fèmi made his way through the crowd, tray of snacks in hand, staring rigorously at the young man next to Shola. He'd just left his seat for a few minutes to grab some snacks, and was surprised not to see her alone when he returned. Indeed, he'd noticed them for a while now when he'd been at the waiter's table and occasionally turned around to keep an eye on her. He wondered who this daring young man was who was so close to her.

        There Shola was, deep in conversation with a young man he'd never seen before. What struck him was the closeness between them. The stranger had his hand resting a little too familiarly on Shola's shoulder, and their faces were very close, as if absorbed in their conversation.

        A wave of jealousy and concern washed over him, but Fèmi took a deep breath to keep his composure. He knew he had to handle the situation tactfully. And in any case, she didn't owe him any explanations. There was really nothing official between them. Instead of rushing towards them or making a scene, he decided to take a more subtle approach.

        Fèmi didn't rush to join them, but pretended not to notice the situation immediately. He took a glass of juice from the tray of a passing waiter, then made his way towards a group of artists whose work he was accustomed to viewing on the networks. He engaged in light conversation to congratulate them, while keeping an eye on Shola and the stranger. After a few minutes, he noticed that the two were moving away, and he thought it a good excuse to approach them.

        With an almost hurried step, Fèmi walked towards Shola and his interlocutor, his hands laden with snacks he had carefully chosen to impress her. He was always surprised to see them engaged in lively conversation, laughing heartily over one of the works on display.

        It was at this moment that the two visitors' eyes met. Shola was a little uncomfortable in her gaze, while Fèmi had concealed his anger in his.

        Once he'd joined them, he handed Shola the tray and before she'd even begun the introductions... "Well, I see I'm not the only one intrigued by these works. I've brought some snacks..." even before Fèmi finished his sentence, Sègla took the tray out of Fèmi's hands and thanked him. He took a snack and handed the tray to Shola to take as well. Fèmi had just felt a feeling violently stirring inside him. Was it anger ? Emerging hatred ? Or just a desire to be violent ? He'd just lost himself in the turn the evening had taken.

        Fèmi with a forced smile: "Please sir... You can keep the rest." Shola felt embarrassed ; she didn't know how to react to what had just happened. Her gaze was lowered when Fèmi resumed: "Shola, can you introduce me to the gentleman next door ?"

        Shola smiled nervously: "Oh, thank you Fèmi for the sandwiches, they're very good ! " She says in an almost gulped voice before continuing, "Sègla explained to me some of the nuances of the art here. I found it really fascinating. Sègla, this is Fèmi. Fèmi, this is Sègla."

The two men shook hands.

- Sègla: Oh sorry, I thought you were a waiter at the party. So sorry. Nice to meet you.

- Fèmi (trying to mask his irritation): Well, I don't have the same style of dress as them... Nice to meet you anyway. 

- Sègla: So, Shola, is this your boyfriend ?

- Shola : Uh... Uh...

        Shola tried to find an answer after being made to feel uncomfortable by Sègla's question. To tell the truth, she had never even tried to find out what Fèmi meant to her.

- Fèmi: "We're just friends," he retorted dryly.

- Sègla (with a condescending tone): Fèmi, you should take a course in the art of conversation. Shola and I were talking about really interesting things before you arrived.

- Fèmi (trying to keep his cool by pretending he hasn't understood a thing): It's good to see you've had time to find common interests. I appreciate art, but I'm not an expert like you two.

- Sègla (arrogantly): That's true, Fèmi. It takes a certain refinement to appreciate these works. Shola and I have similar tastes.

- Shola (trying to lighten the mood): Fèmi, please don't take it that way. Sègla is really fascinating to listen to.

- Fèmi: I'm not taking it personally, Shola. If the two of you enjoy talking, so much the better.

- Shola: I'm just learning a little more about Fèmi's art. Sègla is the artist who painted that canvas right in front of us. You know, the one I was contemplating when you left earlier.

- Fèmi: Glad to hear it.

        Shola noticed the look on Fèmi's face and realized at the same time that she was the cause.

- Shola: Sègla, I don't really appreciate the way you talk. It would please me if it were for the better, please.

        Sègla gave a sly smile, then nodded, "Sorry, that's always been my way of talking. I'm sorry if I offended you, I didn't mean to."

        Shola continued, "Sègla was about to show me some more works in the gallery, so why don't you join us, Fèmi ? We'll have a three-way tour."

- Fèmi: Sorry, I'll pass this time.

        Shola insisted, then grabbed Fèmi's arm, who finally agreed to follow them. With absolute pride and excessive ego, Sègla smiled, clearly pleased with the praise concealed by Shola's interest in visiting his works. "I'm sure you'll be amazed. Come, I'll show you around."

        Shola glanced at Fèmi, but the latter gave her a reassuring smile. They followed Sègla through the various sections, listening to his glowing comments about his own works, each word bolstering his already imposing ego.

        As they moved along, Fèmi tried to remain polite while keeping his distance. Sègla, on the other hand, never missed an opportunity to get closer to Shola, offering detailed explanations of each painting, while occasionally taking a dig at Fèmi.

        The visit seemed interminable to Fèmi, but he held firm, knowing that this was a unique opportunity for Shola to see a private exhibition with an artist of this stature. Although he was an artist who had nothing to do with modesty. Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached the last section.

        "And here's my masterpiece," declared Sègla, unveiling a large canvas covered in bursts of vivid color and abstract shapes.

        Shola seemed genuinely impressed, but Fèmi couldn't help noticing Sègla's triumphant expression. "It's beautiful," she said sincerely.

        "I'm delighted you like it," Sègla replied, turning to her. "It's always a pleasure to share my art with sensitive souls."

        The rest of the evening passed with Fèmi trying to find his place in this new dynamic. Sègla never missed an opportunity to show his superiority, while Shola seemed increasingly torn between the two men. A growing tension hung in the air, foreshadowing difficult times ahead.

        Eventually, the show came to an end and everyone had to return home. Shola was waiting outside the exhibition venue when a Mercedes car pulled up in front of her and honked its horn. The window rolled down on Shola's side and she realized it was Sègla behind the wheel. He was driving a very luxurious car that was very rare to see in the city. He was quick to offer Shola a lift, but she declined the offer, and at the same time, Fèmi arrived with his motorcycle. He'd picked it up from the bike warden. Sègla honked again, then drove off. A few seconds later, Fèmi also started up, with Shola sitting behind him on his motorcycle.

        Fèmi dropped Shola off at home and they spent a few moments chatting in front of Mr. Fassassi's house. Shola thanked Fèmi and said how much she had enjoyed attending the exhibition. In a way, it had brought her a little closer to her world and relieved some of the stress that occupied her head from time to time. Fèmi also admitted that he'd had a wonderful evening with her, and alluded to the fact that they should organize such evenings from time to time. Shola smiled, and for the first time, their bodies came into contact. She took him in her arms, inhaled his sweet, tender perfume, then embraced him and kissed his cheek before wishing him a good night.

        This gesture had delighted Fèmi's heart, an intense warmth and shivers running through him from head to toe. It was pure happiness for him at that moment.

        Adoukè, who had been watching the scene from her balcony since the two of them were there, laughed. His sister turned around with a sudden gesture. Fèmi didn't wait any longer before driving off.

        Shola entered her house, immediately climbed the stairs and went to her sister Adoukè's room. The room was an eerie mess. She had a whole pile of clothes strewn across her bed. A few scarves lay on the floor beside her wardrobe, and plastic and wrappings were scattered all over the room. She didn't mind at all to tidy up the few square meters that Mr. Fassassi had entrusted to her.