Ep:3. slow burn
766 Words
7:43AM. Lagos.
Maya woke up to 6 missed messages.
`@eli.visuals: You sleep?`
`@eli.visuals: Hope you did.`
`@eli.visuals: 8:10AM my time. Sun’s up.`
`@eli.visuals: Check your DMs.`
`@eli.visuals: Please tell me you’re awake.`
`@eli.visuals: Maya.`
Her stomach dropped. She hadn’t told him her name was Maya. He’d said it in the voice note last night.
`Maya: I’m here. Just woke up.`
`@eli.visuals: Good. Look at this.`
An image loaded.
Maya sat up fast.
It was her. The 2:17AM selfie. But not her. Eli had edited it.
Black and white. Grainy, like film. The light from her phone softened. The shadows under her eyes weren’t tired anymore. They looked… deep. Thoughtful. Real. He’d kept the mess. The bun. The no-smile. But he’d made her look like she belonged in a gallery.
Her thumb shook.
`Maya: You edited me.`
`@eli.visuals: I see you.`
`Maya: That’s not the same thing.`
`@eli.visuals: For me it is.`
Maya stared at the photo for a full minute. Her room was bright now. Surulere was loud. Bikes. Church speakers. Her aunt calling her from the kitchen. But on her screen, it was still 2AM.
`Maya: You shouldn’t have.`
`@eli.visuals: Why?`
`Maya: Because now I can’t pretend last night didn’t happen.`
The dots. Long pause.
`@eli.visuals: I don’t want you to pretend.`
Maya pulled her knees to her chest. The blanket was still warm.
`Maya: Eli… this is moving too fast.`
`@eli.visuals: I know.`
`Maya: You’re 20. In San Francisco. I’m 18. In Surulere. We’ve never met.`
`@eli.visuals: I know that too.`
`Maya: Then why did you stay up till 3AM with me?`
`@eli.visuals: Because at 2AM you told me the truth. And nobody does that.`
Maya had no answer for that. She switched to her camera. Morning light hit her face through the window. No filter. Hair still a mess. She looked nothing like the edited photo.
She sent it.
`@eli.visuals: ...`
`@eli.visuals: You’re even more real in the morning.`
`Maya: Stop.`
`@eli.visuals: Stop what?`
`Maya: Making me feel like I’m art.`
`@eli.visuals: You are. Not because I edited you. Because you are.`
Her aunt yelled her name. `Maya! Water don finish!`
`Maya: I have to go.`
`@eli.visuals: Wait.`
`Maya: I can’t do this all day.`
`@eli.visuals: I’m not asking you to. Just… one question.`
`Maya: What?`
`@eli.visuals: Did you sleep better? After we talked?`
Maya looked at her pillow. She had. For the first time in weeks, no overthinking. No scrolling. Just his voice in her head.
`Maya: ...yes.`
`@eli.visuals: Then I’m not sorry for last night.`
`Maya: You should be.`
`@eli.visuals: Why?`
`Maya: Because now I’m going to wait for 2AM again.`
She left him on read. Dropped her phone. Filled water. Helped her sister. Went to the market. But every 10 minutes, her hand went to her pocket.
11:27PM. Lagos.
`@eli.visuals: You’re quiet today.`
`Maya: I was thinking.`
`@eli.visuals: About what?`
`Maya: About you seeing me.`
`@eli.visuals: I do.`
`Maya: Not just the pictures. Me.`
`@eli.visuals: That’s the only part I want.`
Maya was on her rooftop. Lagos was orange and noisy below her. She shouldn’t have been typing. But she was.
`Maya: What if this is a game to you?`
`@eli.visuals: What if it isn’t?`
`Maya: Then I’m scared.`
`@eli.visuals: Of me?`
`Maya: Of how much I want to believe you.`
Silence.
Then:
`@eli.visuals: I’m 20, Maya. I shoot models for money. I edit strangers all day. I’ve never sent anyone a 2AM voice note before you. I’ve never asked for a real photo before you. If this is a game… I’m losing.`
Maya closed her eyes. The wind was cold.
`Maya: Send me something.`
`@eli.visuals: What?`
`Maya: Something real. Not edited. Not a model. You. Right now.`
12:01AM. San Francisco.
A photo came through.
Eli. Desk lamp. No shirt, just a black tee. Camera on his lap. Hair messy. Eyes tired. Behind him, a window with fog. He looked… alone.
`@eli.visuals: 12:01AM. This is me. No game.`
Maya saved it. Same as last night. She told herself it was evidence.
It wasn’t.
`Maya: You look tired.`
`@eli.visuals: I am. I’ve been waiting for you to text back since 7AM.`
`Maya: Eli…`
`@eli.visuals: Yeah?`
`Maya: Don’t disappear.`
`@eli.visuals: I won’t. Not if you don’t.`
12:14AM.
`@eli.visuals: So… are we too real now?`
Maya smiled in the dark. Stupid. Helpless.
`Maya: Yes.`
`@eli.visuals: Good. Because I don’t know how to do fake.`
`Maya: Then meet me at 2AM again.`
`@eli.visuals: I’ll be there.`
She didn’t say `gn` this time. She just set her alarm for 1:55AM.
Because if this was too real… she didn’t want to wake up from it yet.
- Writer
