My Muse

let's try

The midday sun hung lazily in the sky as Felicity stepped out of her res, hoodie sleeves pushed halfway up her arms, tote bag hanging off her shoulder. She had finally decided to catch up on schoolwork at the library campus. As she made her way toward the gate, a sleek black Mercedes Viano caught her eye.

It was parked casually like it belonged there—but something about it felt familiar.

As she passed it, the window rolled down and the sharp smell of expensive cologne teased her nose.

“Felicity,” a deep voice called out.

She paused, slightly squinting at the man behind the wheel.

“Kagiso?” she asked.

Even in broad daylight and dead sober, he looked ridiculously good—a fresh fade cut, lines so crisp you’d swear he had a barber in the boot. For a moment, she forgot she was supposed to be annoyed by the guy.

He smiled, boyish and slightly mischievous. “You were just going to walk past me like I’m invisible?”

“I didn’t recognise you. You clean up decent when you're not starting fights,” she said, one brow raised.

He winced but chuckled. “okay. Deserved.”

There was an awkward beat, then he nodded toward the passenger seat. “I’m actually waiting for Amahle.”

“Ah,” she said knowingly. “So that’s why she's taking forever to get ready. I should’ve known there was a boy involved.”

They both laughed.

Then it got quiet again, but this time it wasn’t awkward—just still.

Kagiso began, his voice gentler now, “Look, I’m sorry. For everything. Especially for the scene at McDonald's. That was on me.”

She looked at him, genuinely surprised.

“I also know you and Victor are... you know, vibing,” he added with a tight smile. “And I respect that. I acted out of character. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

Felicity tilted her head, folding her arms. “Wow. Look at you being mature and emotionally responsible. Who cut your hair? Your therapist?”

He laughed again. “Chill, man.”

“But... thanks,” she said, nodding. “I think we’re good. You're also talking to Amahle, and I respect that, too. So let’s keep things cool, you know? 'Cause clearly we’re going to be around each other a lot.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think I can survive your death stares every time we’re in the same room.”

Just then, Amahle came down the res stairs, dressed to impress, phone in hand. She saw them talking, and her steps slowed—eyebrows pinching just a bit.

Felicity noticed. “We were just talking things out,” she said quickly, loud enough for Amahle to hear. “Everything’s good now.”

Amahle forced a small smile, nodding, but didn’t say much. The vibe was... off.

As she walked ahead to the car, Kagiso’s eyes followed Felicity one last time—quiet, thoughtful.

He wanted to be around her. He liked it when she smiled at him. There was something magnetic about her—sharp tongue, soft voice, stubborn as hell. Even the way she walked away, like she wasn’t trying to be watched... he was watching.

The moment Felicity disappeared around the corner, Kagiso unlocked the Viano and opened the passenger door for Amahlé. She hesitated only a second before sliding in. The tension in the air clung to them like morning dew.

He climbed in beside her, hands gripping the steering wheel but not starting the engine. For a beat, he didn’t speak. Then—

“I’m sorry about last night,” Kagiso said, voice low but clear.

Amahlé looked at him sideways, arms crossed. “You should be apologizing to Felicity. She was the one begging you to stop.”

He nodded. “I know. But I’m not used to being treated like I’m... nothing. I think that’s what triggered me. Fel made me feel like some random guy. Like I didn’t matter.”

Amahlé blinked. “You mean she treated you like you treated her?"

“Yeah,” he said, smoothly. “I tried to be cool with her, tried to fix things with the phone, show her I’m not some arrogant clown. But she looked at me like I was beneath her. I don’t know why it got to me so much.”

Amahlé’s expression softened. She could picture Felicity doing exactly that—closed off, sharp-tongued, guarded. Kagiso’s vulnerability, even if slightly off, tugged at something inside her.

“And Victor,” he added, shaking his head. “The way she looked at him… like he was worth her time. I guess it made me feel stupid.”

Amahlé looked down at her hands.

Kagiso turned toward her, his tone shifting, slower, more deliberate. “But being around you? That was the one part of the night that felt right.”

Amahlé’s breath caught.

“I know I didn’t say anything before,” he went on, “but I’d like to try with you. For real. If you’d let me.”

A smile crept across Amahlé’s lips before she could stop it. She quickly tucked a braid behind her ear, pretending to look away, but the warmth was already spreading across her face.

“You mean that?” she asked, barely hiding the butterflies.

He nodded, giving her a small, disarming smile. “I don’t play like that. If I want something, I say it.”

She nodded slowly, excitement rising in her chest like a secret she didn’t know where to place yet. Maybe all the attention wasn’t for nothing. Maybe she was the one he saw from the beginning.

Outside, a taxi hooted twice before speeding down the street. Inside the Viano, the air suddenly felt different—charged, promising.

Amahlé didn’t notice the way his eyes drifted back to the direction Felicity had walked off in.

Felicity sat curled up in the furthest corner of the library, a cup of instant coffee growing cold beside her open laptop. Her eyes skimmed the screen halfheartedly, pretending to focus on her notes, but her phone vibrated again and again—Victor.

They’d been texting all afternoon. Light, playful banter had slowly melted into a kind of vulnerable, quiet checking-in. The kind of conversations that made her feel seen, even in a library full of other people. They hadn’t planned on meeting again so soon—not after what happened at McDonald’s. They both agreed some space was smart. Let things blow over.

But just before four, he sent:

"I know we said we’d chill for a bit… but I really wanna see you. You got a break?"

"Maybe we can grab a donut or something?"

A minute later, she found herself packing up her bag. She told herself it was just a break. Just coffee. Just some sugar to make the study session less soul-crushing. That’s it.

Ten minutes later, she was standing in front of the main campus gate when a sleek matte grey Audi A7 glided into view and pulled up. The kind of expensive silence the car carried made a few passing students stop to look. She blinked, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as Victor stepped out.

He smiled casually, but there was a flicker of nerves behind it.

“Yoh,” Felicity said, whistling softly. “So this is your car? Damn, and they said you’re jealous of Kagiso? Please. That guy should be jealous of you.”

Victor laughed, almost bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just a car, hey.”

“Just a car,’ he says,” she repeated, amused, as she climbed into the passenger seat.