02. Don’t Touch

Mek's POV 🇳🇬

It has officially been three months, three months since I moved to Greece from Nigeria, to start a new life. Not that there was something wrong with the life I had in Nigeria, no, there was nothing wrong, I just wanted a change, and I had been enjoying this change for the past three months. It felt like I was in a long term vacation, as all I did was go out to party, or shop with the only friend I had, Cora.

Cora and I had met online, through Instagram. She's like a model or an influencer, because her page is filled with beautiful, hot and sexy pictures, pictures I could only dream of taking but never actually take in a lifetime. I had commented on one of her pictures, it was a picture of her with a bulldog she named Eros. We got talking and became friends. It took her a year and two months to convince me to move to Greece when I told I wanted to move, and I'm glad I listened to her; although I had become very tired of living life like a tourist.

"Why don't you try getting a job? Something that won't take away all of your writing time, something easy that will be fun," Cora and I were currently in our apartment, that looked more like a penthouse in a five star hotel, or it felt like it?

   The apartment was spacious and very beautiful. It was covered in white and gold paints; it had large windows and an overall beautiful scenery. I loved it so much. Cora lived in a different apartment, but when I told her I had made up my mind to move to Greece, she went house haunting, so we moved in together. I loved that I didn't have to live alone or be bored. Lord knows I would've taken the next flight back to where I was coming from.

There was one thing I didn't like, and I was staying alone in a foreign place. It was not a phobia, that's just how I am.

We were talking about me living like a tourist, I told her I was tired of staying home and going to parties almost every other night.

     "A job? It's like you're forgetting that my middle name is Lazy," I laughed.

"You'll be bored for the rest of your life then," Cora's accented voice cursed me.

"Back to sender," I snapped my fingers over my head. It was a way of rejecting bad words or curses; I don't think there's a single Nigerian that doesn't do it, it's a default setting. Cora laughed at my action and shook her head.

"If you don't want it sent back to you, you have to find a job. I'll help you scout," Cora smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and nodded.

"It's just a job, and it's not like you need the money. You just need to cure your boredom, Miss writer," Cora shrugged.

"Me? There's no way I won't need money," I joked and we laughed.

I did have a job, I am a writer, and I do all the kinds of writing there is; Ghost writing, content writing, script-writing, and I write personal books, two of which were adapted into live action. Not to brag, but I am a hot cake writer, kinda famous for my works, and works that people didn't even know I wrote; either way, it was bringing me money and hence the reason why Cora would think I didn't need money. Everyone needs money, Femi Otedola does, Jeff Bezos does, Dangote does, hell even Elon Musk still needed money, so who was I not to need money because I was earning a few thousands? Not me!

"I have a shoot by 5:00pm, want to come? Who knows, you might get a job there," Cora laughed.

"You ask like I have something better to do with my life," I said and we laughed. I closed up my  laptop that had been on my leg since Cora served me moussaka for breakfast.

The delicious golden brown beauty had a very rich taste I wasn't ready for, the potatoes, the minced meat, the cream, everything mixed together was heavenly. I remembered Cora laughing at me because of how I kept moaning about the food.

I had plans to write after breakfast, but the food distracted me. I couldn't even type one word.

I pushed the laptop away from my body and ran to my room to take a shower as it was 3:40pm already.

An hour later, Cora was pushing me out of the door, while I was trying to put on my black sandals.

"I forgot my phone on my bed!" I yelled at Cora, hoping she'd fall for my lie so I could put on some powder and perfume. I had an affinity for being late. It was one of the reasons I zeroed my mind from working a nine to five job. If I was going to get fired, it was going to be because I used up all my excuses as to why I was late.

Luckily for me, Cora fell for my lie, or maybe she knew I was lying but decided to let it slide; either way, I made a beeline to my room to get my mini makeup done.

Rule 1 of being a bad bitch: never be caught, not fresh.

When I was done with my mini makeup, I ran out to meet Cora, who had a deadly look on her face.

"First of all, I'm sorry," I smiled at her. She shook her head and we got into her car.

We arrived at her work location a little later than the other models, the photographer wasn't really pleased. It was a huge hall with nothing but huge clothes and different backgrounds. It seemed like I was the only one who didn't have anything to do; every other person was going up and down, trying to get things done for the shoot.

If there was anything I loved about myself, it was my body. I never had to worry or feel insecure about how I looked because I knew I looked good enough to turn heads.

I was one of the few Nigerians who didn't have a big stomach, I prided myself in my small waist, my not too wide hips and my big enough butt, that sat right. The only thing I was a bit insecure about, was my height. I wasn't too short, but I wasn't tall either, and  it was easy for people to think I was younger than I actually was.

My insecurity heightened as I was surrounded by people who looked like giants in those 30 inches shoes they had on, Cora included.

Cora introduced me to a few model friends of hers that I knew I wouldn't remember when we're out of the hall, after that, she went in for makeup and stuff, while I sat comfortably on a couch, smiling at people like a witch.

Picture this, you're going about your business, and a tiny but very pretty melanin queen keeps looking at you, while smiling like a Cheshire Cat. Let's just say I was lucky that no one paid any mind to me, I would've been thrown out in a heartbeat.

   When the shoot ended, one of the photographers walked up to me, with a smile on his face as he admired my hair. I had faux locs on, that was adorned with cowries and other African related bead-like things. The guy didn't look bad, it's just that the way he was smiling didn't sit well with me.

"Before you ask, no, you can't touch my hair!" I smiled back at him. His smile faded into the atmosphere, and so did his presence.

"I forgot how rude you are. It's my fault, I should've warned them how much of a witch you are," Cora walked up to me, passing the guy a sad smile, laughing afterwards.

"So I have good news, and bad news. The worst part is that the good and bad news are mixed into one news," Wow Cora, and I thought I was weird...

"Hit me," I held my arms in the air.

"Elena, the pretty blonde girl I introduced you to earlier, she said her sister found out that a huge company is looking to hire a secretary, or was it a PA?" Cora smiled.

"What's the good news?" I asked her, I had to ask because everything she said, sounded like bad news to me. Me? Secretary? PA? How?

"That I found something you might be interested in doing?" Cora smiled.

"And what's this thing?" Cora took a deep breath and smacked me on my forehead.

"Your ears, don't they work?" She asked me. I laughed at her frustration.

"I'm not saying you have to work there forever, just try it out. I mean it's the perfect job to rid you of your boredom," she said.

"It's a 9-5 job," I reminded her.

"So what? You could adjust your writing schedule to fit in, and you have the weekend! I'm trying to help you here. If you don't go for the interview, I won't listen to you when you say you're bored, and I won't bring you out to work with me!" Cora threatened. She was not joking.

"Okay fine! I'll do it. Find out the company and the day the interview is holding, I'll go and make you proud, mother," I pouted.

"You can be annoying when you want to, you know that right?" Cora asked me.

"You knew you were going to take the job, but yet you had to suffer me," Cora placed her right palm over her forehead. Dramatic much?

"The threat, it was the threat for me," I told her. She shook her head and went to get the bag she brought with her, and probably inquired more about the company and the interview.