A NIGHT LIKE OTHER NIGHTS

Chapter 4: When the music stopped

Jacy stood still, her body stiff as though frozen in place. Mary had been nudging her, whispering questions about the sudden change in her mood, but Jacy barely heard her. Her eyes scanned the crowd of dancing students, suspicion rising in her chest like smoke from a fire. She tapped Mary's arm, ready to speak but the words died on her tongue. Instead, she bolted out of the party.

"Jacy!" Mary called, hurrying after her.

The two of them ran until they reached a small lounge nearby. They sank into seats, Jacy trembling, her phone buzzing again in her hand. She hissed in frustration, staring at the screen. The name flashing there made her pause.

It was Harry.

"Hello, babe, I'm close to the arena. Hope you're okay," Harry's voice came through, warm and steady.

Jacy and Harry had only known each other for two weeks. Their first meeting had been at Signal Cinema, Abeokuta, on a movie night that changed everything.

That evening, Jacy had booked a table for three for herself, Mary, and another female course mate. They arrived dressed alike in elegant red trousers and bold black tops with the word SEXY scrawled across their bellies. But when they reached their table, they found one of the seats already taken.

Jacy's temper rose instantly. She stormed over to the cinema officials, demanding answers. They apologized, explaining that the man was a loyal customer and that all other tables were full. With irritation boiling in her chest, Jacy marched back, Mary and their friend trailing her like soldiers behind a commander.

She tapped the man's shoulder sharply.

"Are you that stupid? Couldn't you see this table was booked? You should've waited for another movie night or gone somewhere else. Not steal a table that doesn't belong to you!"

The man lifted his gaze to hers, unruffled by her fury. He was a fair and in his early thirties, dressed in a sleek green polo and black Nike joggers, Gucci slippers on his feet. His afro hair was neatly trimmed, his beard perfectly lined. A pair of expensive black sunglasses shielded his eyes, and a golden wristwatch gleamed at his wrist. He stood slowly, towering over Jacy, whose height barely reached his chest.

"There are nicer ways you could have said that, pretty," he replied smoothly. "Anyway, I'm Harry."

"Screw you and your filthy name. I don't care who you are. Just get out of this table!" Jacy shot back, her voice cutting.

Mary tugged at her sleeve, urging her to calm down, but Jacy refused. Their other friend whispered that maybe they could share the table it wasn't worth making a scene. Reluctantly, Jacy agreed, though her glare never left Harry. They sat, Jacy directly across from him, Mary at the corner. What began as silence soon melted into conversation. By the middle of the film a Philippine melodrama flickering across the screen, Jacy and Harry were speaking as though they'd known each other for years. Strange, how quickly strangers could become something more. That's life though.

By the end of the night, Harry paid for everything. The girls left impressed and curious. He disclosed to Jacy that he's a banker and Jacy alerted him of her convocation. Four days later, he asked Jacy out. She said yes. And just last Friday, June 27th, that's four days before this day. Harry had slipped a ring onto her finger.

Now, as he entered the lounge to meet her, Jacy told him about the call she had received earlier. Her mother's trembling voice still echoed in her ears; 'her father and brother had been shot'.

Mary's hand flew to her mouth, horrified. Harry frowned deeply.

"Could your father have enemies?" he asked.

Jacy explained about the land dispute her father had won in court years ago. The influential man he defeated had sworn vengeance, even vowing that Robert Obinze and his children would suffer. But until now, nothing had happened. Why now?

Harry reached for her hand, his eyes soft with sympathy. "Calm down, darling. You're safe with me."

Mary wrapped an arm around Jacy too, though her own fear was plain.

Then Harry pulled out his phone. "Hello, DPO? I need six men at Pizza Vizza right away. Yes, urgent. Thank you."

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he placed his hand gently on Jacy's back. "Let's return to the party. Don't worry, you're safe with me."

They went back inside. The music thumped, people dancing wildly, glasses clinking. No one paid Jacy much attention, though her fear had drained her spirit. She no longer felt like dancing. Harry held her by the waist, swaying her gently to the tune of Blue Christmas by Elvis Presley. Mary danced to other side, a guy held her and she twerked on his groin slowly and romantically biting her fingers as her partner leaned back in ecstasy, closes his eyes slowly , he's gone to heaven.

Then, the doors burst open. Six police officers strode in. The room froze. All eyes turned on Jacy, whispers darting through the crowd. She called the police? At a party?

Before anyone could make sense of it, a gunshot cracked through the air. One officer dropped, lifeless.

Screams erupted. Panic tore through the hall. The crowd scattered like sand in the wind.

Harry grabbed Jacy's hand. "Jesus...Jacy bend!" he shouted, dragging her toward the front door.

But there, blocking their path, stood a masked man. His gun leveled at them, finger tightening on the trigger.