Hello, Trouble
761 Words
Friday Night. 10:32 PM.
The bass hit first, deep and thick, like a heartbeat with something to prove.
Efe stepped into Club Monarch and instantly felt like she’d just crash-landed into another universe. One with strobe lights, glittering bodies, air thick with perfume and ego. She clutched Lara’s hand tightly.
“You good?” Lara shouted over the music.
Efe grinned. “Better than good. I feel… alive.”
Lara gave her a look, the kind that said if you pass out, I will slap your unconscious body back to life, but she didn’t argue. Efe looked radiant tonight. Not in a dramatic, red-carpet kind of way. No. She was wearing faded jeans, a black off-shoulder top, and confidence stitched into every movement.
She’d painted her lips a bold, reckless red.
She wasn’t here to be invisible tonight.
There was something about the air tonight, thick with heat, alcohol, and the quiet possibility that anything could happen.
Efe leaned on the bar, sipping her virgin mojito, pretending she wasn’t people-watching with judgmental precision.
Lara nudged her. “Yoruba demon alert. Eleven o’clock.”
Efe rolled her eyes without looking. “Define ‘demon.’”
“White shirt, gold chain, smug face. Looks like he smells like expensive sin.”
Efe turned. And there he was.
Tall. Smooth. Smirking like the universe owed him something, or maybe just everyone in the room.
“Oh,” Efe murmured, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah. Demon confirmed.”
Dayo saw her. And smiled like he’d just found a puzzle worth solving.
He approached, flanked by Kunle who looked instantly bored and mildly stressed.
“Ladies,” Dayo said, tone dipped in charm. “You two look like trouble.”
Efe didn’t blink. “And you look like someone who thinks that’s a compliment.”
Kunle chuckled. Dayo didn’t miss a beat.
“Depends. Is it working?”
Efe sipped her drink and gave him a slow once-over. “No.”
Lara snorted.
Dayo placed his drink on the counter. “You’re feisty.”
“Feisty?” Efe echoed. “What am I, a toddler or a chihuahua?”
“I was going to say ‘irresistible,’ but that works too.”
She smiled. Barely. “You’re cute.”
“Finally, a win.”
“…In a ‘don’t talk to me again or I’ll report you to HR’ kind of way.”
Lara burst into laughter, nearly choking on her drink.
Dayo was grinning now, thoroughly entertained. “Okay, fine. I walked into that one. Let me try again. I’m Dayo.”
She leaned in, just a bit. “And I’m not.”
Dayo blinked. “You’re not going to tell me your name?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“You’re wicked.”
“Mm. And you’re enjoying every second of it.”
He couldn’t even argue. He was.
“I feel like we should at least dance before you break my heart,” he said.
Efe tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “I don’t dance with strangers.”
“We just had ten minutes of premium banter. That’s more connection than half the couples in here.”
“…Fine,” she said, setting her drink down. “One dance.”
The music shifted. Smooth Afrobeats, just slow enough to pull you in.
They moved in sync, too close for strangers. Not close enough for lovers.
He didn’t touch her waist, she noticed that.
She didn’t touch his shoulders, he noticed that, too.
But their eyes? Constant.
“You still not going to tell me your name?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“You’re enjoying this power, aren’t you?”
“Immensely.”
He shook his head, amused. “You’re trouble.”
“You already said that.”
“I meant it.”
She smiled,not sweetly, but like she was holding a secret.
And then, just like that, she reached up, gently pulled his collar, and kissed him.
Soft. Bold. Nothing timid. Just heat, and intent, and a trace of mint from her drink.
He barely had time to react before she stepped back.
Eyes still on his.
And then…
She turned. Disappeared into the crowd.
Gone.
Dayo stood frozen in the middle of the dancefloor, completely thrown.
Kunle joined him moments later. “Guy, what happened? You look like you saw a ghost.”
Dayo blinked, dazed. “She kissed me.”
Kunle frowned. “Who?”
He turned in a slow circle. “I don’t know.”
He touched his lips, stunned.
“…She didn’t tell me her name.
- Writer
