"Nothing. Your smile's beautiful. I don't think I ever saw you smile in all the times we were in high school."
"I wasn't really happy then. The boy you knew ten years ago was a disgruntled man. Things have changed since then." Carter glanced at his wristwatch. They were running late. "We have about forty-five minutes to be seated in U.H.S's auditorium. So it's best if we start moving now."
Demola's eyes narrowed slightly. "What's happening in U.H.S?"
"A surprise and today's date." Carter held his breath as he waited for Demola's response.
"Okay. But for your sake, I hope it doesn't tank. If it does, you're going into my next book. You and all the details of our disastrous date," Demola said with a cheeky grin.
Carter raised his hands to touch his heart, "It would be an honor to have one of your characters based on me. I'm sure you will do me justice."
He watched Demola's eyes widen slightly. He had obviously not been expecting Carter to say that, and had no idea that tonight would be one that would be full of compliments about his talents as a writer.
As they walked out of the lobby together, Carter grinned widely. He had the feeling that tonight was going to be a fun-filled one.
*~*~*
The drive to U.H.S was quiet. Quiet enough that Demola was able to cast his mind to the conversation he had had with his brother.
He had been about to leave his room when his phone had vibrated in his pocket. He brought out the phone and smiled at the contact name that flashed on his screen. Dropping into the lone chair in his hotel room, he stretched out, placed his feet on the table, crossed his ankles and hit the accept button. His brother's deep baritone was immediately audible.
"Mother says you've been losing weight. Something about the food you're eating in the States not being good for you. Is that true? As the only member of the family who is in the food business, it would be a shame to me and my business should it be heard that my brother died of starvation or something."
Trust Segun to start off by being silly. Demola laughed long and hard. "Idiot. Mother believes we're all skinny. She's only happy when we're under her roof and she's able to feed us to her heart's content. I can't believe you're indulging her."
He heard Segun's deep laugh. "Of course I have to. Do you know how she breathes down my neck? I have to be able to tell her with a clear conscience that I've delivered her messages. But all jokes apart, how are things with you? How's the writing going?"
"I'm good. And the writing's going on well. I hit a minor snag, but I'm working around it. You know how my writing process is like."
"Of course I do. You will write furiously for the first few days. Then inspiration will take a break and so will you, and neither of you will return to your writing until like a week to your deadline, and then you will start running about like a headless chicken, panicking that you won't finish the writing early enough. Then when you're through, you will spend some time promising that you won't ever let yourself get so behind on your writing again. And that promise will only last until you start writing your newest book. Is there anything I missed?" Demola could just picture Segun asking the question with a quick tap on his lip, and his eyes looking skyward like he wanted the heavens to remind him of anything else he might have forgotten.
"Nope. You got everything right. At the moment, I'm waiting for my muse to return. But enough about me, and my writing idiosyncrasies, how's the food business treating you? Mother said you're talking of expanding. I'm assuming that everything is going well? You've not run into any snag in any way?"
"No bro. Everything is going as planned. I should have my newest outlet opening in Shomolu next week. Hold on a minute." Segun yelled at someone on the other end of the line. "How many times do I have to tell you? The fish is bad, you throw it out. I don't care if you think it will save costs to try and salvage it. I will not have my customers getting poisoned because you're being a scrooge. Have I made myself clear?"
Demola heard whoever his brother was talking to answer, "Yes sir."
"People. I don't know why in the name of being prudent, they act so stupid. Pele—sorry about that. Where were we? Oh yes, business is good. I spoke to mom the other day and she said you were going to be at your old school for some career talk program. Are you there now?"
Demola smiled. Only his brother could move from one topic to another, without breaking a sweat or forgetting what else he wanted to talk about.
"Yes I am, and it has been so much fun. The kids I hope are listening and learning as much as they can. Sometimes, all we need is to talk with someone older, who has gone ahead of us, to know the right decisions to make at crucial points in our lives."
"True. So, who have you met? Have you seen any of your classmates? Or any of the assholes who used to pick on you?"
Demola chewed in his lips a bit before answering. Segun had been really pissed on his behalf when he had found out about the bullying. His hotheaded brother had even concocted some convoluted plan to track down the bullies and make them suffer painfully. Demola and his mother had been able to talk him out of it. It didn't mean that whenever Segun thought about the bullying he didn't get very agitated though. "Well, I saw Carter Simmons."
"Carter Simmons? The ass who started the whole bullying? Please tell me your fist greeted his face and did a little restructuring?"
Demola burst out laughing. His brother had always had a way with words. "It's because of statements like that that makes everyone ask why you won't consider becoming a writer."
"Please. We only need one writer in the family. And that's you. Besides, I love food. Being around it, selling it, everything about food gives me pleasure. And don't try to change the topic. At least tell me that you kicked him in the balls."
"I did nothing of the sort. Actually, I'm going out on a date with him in a few minutes."
The silence that followed the statement was the calm before the storm. "You're doing what?" Segun screeched. "Are you insane? This is the man that made your senior year miserable. What the hell would make you even consider being in the same room as the asshole, talk less of date him? Are you insane? Have you been smoking weed? Is that the problem? Your body is pumped full of drugs that have made you lose all reason?"
"Not really."
"Then what is it? Why are you dating him?" There was a brief pause, and Demola waited for Segun to remember a conversation they had shared some years before. "You're still crushing on him," Segun said, resigned.
"It's not just that. He's changed. He's not the same person from ten years ago."
He heard his brother release a sigh. Probably one of resignation. "I hope so. I hope you know what you're doing Demola. But even if you don't, there's no worry. I have your back. The man tries anything or attempts to break your heart, I'm coming after him. And there's nothing you and mother can say this time around that will stop me."
"Thanks Segun."
"No problem big brother. Just watch your back and your heart. Be careful."
Segun's advice echoed in his head. As Demola watched Carter drive them to U.H.S, all he could remember was his brother's warning. He hoped sincerely that his brother would not turn out right and he won't end up being hurt again.
"What's it? You're frowning," Carter asked.
"Nothing really. Just thinking. Are you sure you won't tell me what's happening at U.H.S? What's the big secret?"
"Nothing. It's just a surprise. So, why don't you relax, and find out all you want to when we get there. I can promise you one thing though. You will enjoy the surprise."
Demola observed the smiling profile of Carter who had stopped talking and was now focused on getting them to U.H.S on time for whatever it was that they were going there for. Demola shrugged. He would know soon enough anyway.
*~*~*
Demola found himself on his feet, his hands furiously working together to create claps that resonated in the auditorium. Claps that he hoped would be able to convey to the students at U.H.S, his pleasure at the play h
e just watched.
The directing had been flawless, the acting totally brilliant, and the stage design had made him believe that he was actually in Dance with Leaves. The students were more talented than he had expected, and in the scene where Feyikemi had to stab her daughter in order to appease the gods, the actress's words of resignation and sacrifice had lent emotion to his words on paper.
This was a date he was never going to forget any time soon. None of the men he had been with had ever done something like this for him, made the effort to create a date that would be centered around his books.
Demola stared at Carter who had immediately jumped out of his seat at the end of the play and was now at the stage, congratulating the kids and having an intense conversation with one of the students. A conversation that Demola was interested in when he noticed that Carter gave a nudge in his direction, and rubbed the boy's shoulders, encouragingly, it would seem, as the boy walked towards Demola.
Demola waited for the younger man to meet him, and said nothing, waiting for the boy to speak first. "It's a privilege to meet you today Mr. Ademola Collins. I have been a huge fan of your work for a very long time. My dream is to become a writer and if I can write even half as well as you do, I will be very fulfilled. When I first heard Mr. Edwards say that you would be here this evening, I was very doubtful. Having you physically here is a dream come true."
Demola smiled at the earnestness of the boy. "What's your name?"
"Scott, sir. Scott Greene."
"Well Scott, drop the sir and call me Demola. And I must say it's an honour to witness such a brilliant performance from your class. Your class did my book justice." Demola watched the blush blossom on Scott's cheek. "Did you help with the play?"
"Yes. I wrote the script and directed," Scott stated, his proud smile beamed.
Demola smiled. "Good job Scott. Although with the brilliant work you've done, are you sure you don't want to consider a career in television?" The boy had indeed done a brilliant job with the script and the interpretation of the characters.
"I might consider television, later. But right now, I want to focus on my writing. I think the reason why I did your book justice is because I've mentally gone through it in my head so many times, I have an image that was easily replicated. As I worked, all I could think of was how to do Dance with Leaves justice through the play. I'm happy to know that we've succeeded."
Demola kept quiet for a while as he thought about the words. It really was high praise to have the kids rate his book with such importance. He pulled out his phone and composed a quick text, hitting send immediately he was done. A couple of minutes later, his phone dinged. Melvin was always quick with responses.
Demola read the message and smiled. It seemed like he had good news for the kids.
"Can I have your attention please," he called out and watched as the students and Mr. Edwards all stopped talking and turned to face him. "Your production of Dance with Leaves was brilliant. You all did such an amazing job that I think you deserve a reward. I just sent a message to my friend at Highway studios, which he has replied to. I am therefore pleased to announce that all members of this class who are interested in any aspect of film making will get the chance to intern at the studio, in your chosen areas of interests." The applause, screams and shouts of thanks that filled the air were nearly deafening. "And for those of you that are interested in interning in a publishing outfit or want me to take you under my wings and show you some of the ropes, there are spaces available for you as well."
In a short while, Demola found excited students all around him, some going as far as giving him tearful hugs. He caught Mr. Edwards' eye and nodded his head as the man mouthed "thank you." The students soon wandered off, the auditorium filled with the chatter of happy kids, who were obviously discussing the option they were going to go with. Scott though stayed glued to Demola's side, acting like his bodyguard.
Demola, with his new bodyguard in tow, caught up with Mr. Edwards. "Thank you so much for what you've done for the kids. I'm sure they won't be forgetting today in a hurry."
"I'm happy that I can help in whatever way I can. We're having career week in my alma mater, Ellis High. That's why I'm in town. And I see nothing wrong in helping kids actualize their dreams, whether they are in Ellis or U.H.S. Just have a list of the kids and their choices and send the list to this email address. My assistant will get back to you." Demola handed over his card.
After Mr. Edwards left, Demola turned to look at Scott. "So, what do you think? I think you will be good in television. The world needs to see the work of a director that can study the work the movie is based on properly, and create film that captures the very essence of that. Hollywood has few directors who can pull that off."
"I agree sir. But my passion is writing. It's what makes me happy," Scott replied.
"Well, there's nothing that says you can't be both, you know." Demola watched Scott scratch his head and stare into the distance. The boy had obviously not thought about doing both. "You know what, put down your name for both. You will get your internship at Highway Studios, and you will still get to work with me and observe how I work. What do you think?"
He expected the hug. But he didn't expect the tears from Scott. "Thank you so much sir. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Actually, I think I do. Now, go and hang out with your friends. You all should decide what you want to do. And remember, just because you know you're good at two things or have a passion for two things, doesn't mean you can't do them side by side. All you need to have is a knowledge of time management, and I'm sure you will be able to juggle them both.
Demola watched Scott skip off happily. Sights like that always made him happy and wonder when adults stopped taking delight in the little things. When did they stop appreciating the little gifts? Being grateful for something simple, like meeting someone they've always admired?
Speaking of admired, Demola looked around, searching for his date for the evening. Where on earth was Carter hiding? He turned around fully and saw Carter sitting in one of the audience seats. Carter gave him a smile and a quick wink, then mouthed, "Did you enjoy the date?"
Demola smiled. The date had been mind-blowing and totally worth it.
*~*~*
Carter dropped on to his bed. Physically, he was exhausted. His body screamed from the bone-weary feeling he only got when he pushed it to its limit. Mrs. Rayne had decided to have a soccer match between the alumni and the students, as a way to create bonds between them all. She had succeeded brilliantly. There was something about engaging in a sport with a figure that otherwise might have been intimidating, if said figure had not just been dribbled by your teammate. The barriers are pulled down, and everyone just talks about the game.
However, the match had been good. Carter had missed the feelings associated with a good game, and with the match closing at a draw, both teams had been satisfied. The lunch that followed the game, helped the members of the two teams interact, and at the end of it, Carter had found two young men who finally got the courage to ask if they could work at his shop for the summer vacation.
Carter had agreed, and all three of them had spent the rest of the lunch break trying to figure out the housing issue the two young men would face, seeing that Carter's shop was out of town. Luckily enough for them all, the boys had called their parents, and one of them had remembered a friend who lived in the area, a friend who was willing to accommodate the boys for the summer holidays.
It had also been fun to watch Demola's attempt to arm wrestle with one of the students. It had been a friendly game, but watching the way the muscles in Demola's arm bunch anytime the wrestling started made Carter's mouth go dry. It didn't help matters either that he also had images of Demola's strong legs in his mind, courtesy of the shorts that Demola had slipped on to play in the game.
Their dates were becoming more fun. After taking Demola to watch the play, Carter had decided to take him to an auto show next. Their dates had been
to show Demola the man who he now was, and that man had a thing for watching the unveiling of beautiful cars. When Carter had decided on that, he had done so with the hope that Demola would enjoy the show. It would have sucked if he were the only one who enjoyed their date. Luckily for him though, Demola had enjoyed the date and had even decided to purchase a BMW that had been on display. Carter had agreed wholeheartedly with the choice. The car had been a beaut.
Their next date had been much simpler. They had bought ice cream and hung out in the car while watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang at the local drive-in. Demola loved the movie, and Carter spent the date watching Demola enjoy the movie. He had been about to lean forward and place a kiss on the lips that he had been fantasizing about for so long when Demola's phone rang. Distracted from the movie, Demola spent some time reading the message, and stated that their date would have to end immediately after the credits for the movie came up, as he needed to place an urgent call to his publishers. The moment was too stressed for the kiss and inwardly Carter had pouted at the lost opportunity.
However, they were going clubbing that night, and seeing that it was the last night they were going to be in town together, Carter was hopeful that he would at least get his kiss. Just as soon as he woke up from his nap though. He really was tired. And with those words and the memory of Demola's lips, he drifted off to sleep.
*~*~*
The pounding music vibrated in the air. Carter would not be surprised if the sound had even the very walls quaking. His ears were definitely responding to the high pitch sound of the music that was playing in the club. Just like it always was. Harvey's was famous for its loud music and its identity as a club that catered for the needs of the gay people of the society. Not like there weren't straight couples grinding on the floor. However, the percentage of gay couples was higher. Much higher.
Carter took hold of Demola's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. His date looked like he was about to bolt. Obviously, Demola had been expecting them to go to somewhere quieter for their date, and not the cacophony of noise that Harvey's was known for. However, there was so much more to Harvey's than just the loud music, and Carter wanted Demola to see that.
A Second Chance Page 4
