CHAPTER TWO
1211 Words
The Party on Third Street
Grace had always been called beautiful. People admired her from the time she was a child. She was outspoken and confident, never one to fade into the background. As the first child of four—two boys and two girls—she had naturally taken on the role of a leader. She never let her siblings talk down to her, never let them overshadow her in conversations.
Yet here she was, sitting quietly, letting Bamidele lecture her like she was a child.
She crossed her arms and exhaled sharply, glancing toward him. Maybe it was because Bamidele, or Bami as he was popularly called, was one of the few male friends she had. Maybe it was because she knew he spoke out of concern rather than control. He had been her coursemate before they became friends. Their bond had started one random morning when they found themselves seated next to each other in class. A simple conversation about their mutual love for kompa music had led to hours of discussion, and from then on, he never failed to check up on her frequently.
It was sweet.
He was sweet.
If she didn’t know any better, she would have assumed he had a crush on her. But she did know better.
Still, his concern was starting to feel overbearing.
“Grace, think about this properly,” Bami said, his voice calm but firm. “You barely eat well as it is. Do you think clubbing all night on an empty stomach is a smart decision?”
She rolled her eyes. “First of all, who said I’d be out all night?”
“Please,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I know you, Grace. You’ll go, and before you know it, the sun will be rising.”
A small smirk tugged at her lips. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean she was going to admit it.
“Second of all,” she continued, ignoring his knowing look, “there will be food. Free food. So technically, your argument is invalid.”
Bami’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” She arched a brow. “Because right now, it sounds like you’re just upset that I’m going out instead of sulking in this room.”
Bami sighed, rubbing his temples. “I just think you should be resting. Or studying. Exams are—”
“I don’t want to think about exams right now.”
The sudden sharpness in her voice made him pause. She could see the concern in his eyes, but she wasn’t in the mood for this discussion. Not now.
Ore, one of the girls who lived in the same hostel block, had come by earlier with news. A party was happening that night on Third Street. There was supposed to be a moderately famous DJ and, more importantly, free food.
The moment Grace heard “free food,” she was sold.
She was already tired of eating the same repetitive meals—garri and beans, beans and garri, or the occasional indomie when she could afford it. The thought of a hot plate of rice and chicken, even if she had to fight for it, was enough motivation.
That, and the fact that she loved dancing.
“What’s wrong with wanting to have fun, Bami?” she asked, softer this time. “Just for tonight?”
He sighed again, shaking his head. “Nothing, Grace. Just be careful.”
She smiled. “Always.”
And with that, she went inside to get ready.
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The Party
The moment they stepped onto Third Street, Grace knew it was going to be a night to remember.
Music thundered from massive speakers, the bass so strong that she could feel it vibrating through her chest. Multicolored lights flashed in rapid sequences, turning the night into a dizzying swirl of blues, reds, and purples. The street was packed—students swayed, jumped, and moved in sync with the heavy beats, their laughter mixing with the intoxicating scent of grilled suya and peppered chicken.
“This place is packed!” Maddie shouted over the noise.
Grace grinned. “Exactly how I like it.”
Their mission was clear: find the food first.
The crowd near the food stand was overwhelming, but Grace and Maddie had perfected the art of food hustling. They moved quickly, adopting the strategy of collecting plates “for their friends” to avoid suspicion. By the time they left, their hands were full—two plates each, heaped with rice, chicken, and fried plantains.
They sat on the edge of a makeshift bench, eating hungrily as they watched the party unfold around them. Laughter rang through the air, people cheered as new songs played, and couples huddled in corners, lost in their own world.
It was electrifying.
Grace could already feel it—the pull of the music.
It was like a calling.
She stood, stretching her arms before turning to Maddie. “I need to dance.”
Maddie smirked. “Then go give them a show.”
And so she did.
She let the music take over, swaying her hips effortlessly, feeling each beat like a second heartbeat. She twisted, turned, and dipped, moving as though her body was one with the rhythm. She wasn’t just dancing—she was performing.
The reaction was instant.
People stopped to watch.
Then they started to cheer.
The crowd around her thickened as more people turned to see the girl dancing like she owned the night. Whistles rang through the air, followed by claps and excited shouts. Some started filming, while others simply watched in awe.
And then, the money started flying.
First, it was a few naira notes. Then more. Then more.
Maddie, ever the sharp one, acted fast. She grabbed an empty nylon bag from the side of the street and started picking up each note before they could disappear into the hair over her shoulder. If they wanted a show, she would give them one.
She danced harder.
Faster.
More sensually.
And the money kept coming.
At one point, someone tossed a 1,000 naira note at her feet. Maddie practically dived to grab it, stuffing it into their growing stash.
When Grace finally stepped away, breathless and drenched in sweat, Maddie was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Babe, do you know how much we just made?” Maddie whispered as they walked back toward campus, the nylon bag securely tucked under her arm.
Grace chuckled, still riding the high of the night. “Enough to restock the hostel, I hope.”
“More than enough,” Maddie said, linking arms with her. “We might even be able to buy eggs this time.”
They both burst into laughter.
The night air was cool against their damp skin as they strolled leisurely back home, swinging their intertwined hands between them.
It hadn’t been the night they planned.
But it had turned out even better.
They were content.
Satisfied.
Happy, even.
And for now, that was enough.
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Thank you once again for reading the second chapter of fading shadows.
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