You Of All People | A Nigerian Gay MM Love Story

CHAPTER NINE

The movie was just about wrapped up. Folarin was going to the location to film one of his final scenes. He had stopped by a supermarket to get some condoms because he planned to go see Lucy later. It was a Sunday, so the roads were pretty free. Folarin was enjoying one of the few times he got to really drive his V8 Mercedes, when suddenly, a Porsche Cayenne with tinted windows pulled up beside him and cut him off, nearly clipping his bumper. Folarin cussed up a storm and veered to the side, speeding up until he was side by side with the Cayenne. He rolled down his window and pointed at his own head repeatedly, the Lagos signal for 'you are mad'. A few moments later, both cars arrived at a traffic light and stopped. The Cayenne's driver finally rolled down his windows, laughing, as he and the girl beside him looked at Folarin. "Celebrity." The obnoxious guy roared in a thick Igbo accent. "You wan race?"

"Hi Folarin." The backseat window had rolled down and the pretty girl in the back greeted Folarin with a flirtatious grin, resting both her arms on the window sill with her chin resting on them

Folarin looked at her and winked. She's fine as fuck.

"I say you wan 'ress' me?", the driver said, his accent growing even thicker somehow.

Folarin looked back at him with a dry look and revved his engine in response, then looked back at the road and rolled up his windows.

As soon as the lights turned green, Folarin punched the accelerator. He gained a headstart but maintained it for only about 10 seconds before the Cayenne pulled up beside him and then overtook. Through the rear window, Folarin saw the pretty backseat girl look back at him and smile like she was rooting for him.

If this fool win me, make I know wetin cause am.

He made an effortless manoeuvre around a blue Toyota and rounded back to the side of the Cayenne. The front of his car was a few inches further than the Cayenne and he was about to fully overtake when he had to slow down to avoid hitting the car in front of him. The Cayenne had no blocks, so he punched ahead, widening the gap. Fuck! Folarin swung past the obstructive car and the truck ahead of it, gaining on the Cayenne. A sudden swerve put the Cayenne at the other end of the road - on the slow lane but still ahead. Folarin maintained his position on the fast lane and punched the gas. The Cayenne veered to the left, landing in the middle lane but in the lead still.

Folarin looked ahead and saw an opening. There were no blocks in front of him and the speed bump before the toll gates had to be the unspoken finish line for the race. They were already going at high speeds, but Folarin only had to give it a bit more gas and he would overtake the Cayenne and beat him by a wide margin. Folarin lived for moments like these. The rush, the adrenaline of random drag races with complete strangers, which he usually won. Not to mention there was the babe in the back who for some reason, raised the stakes up even higher. Even though he probably wouldn't even be able to get her number, he still had to win this pissing contest to assert his dominance; show her whose dick was bigger. And he was this close.

Now they were neck and neck, weaving around other cars and driving at insane speeds. The girl in the back was openly cheering for Folarin now, her window all the way down as she leaned against the door, screaming with excitement. "Smoke him, Folarin. You can do it, baby."

He had to make sure he overtook by a wide enough margin that he could slowdown in time to make the speedbump and still get beyond the tolls before the Cayenne.

His heart was racing. Blood pumping, He felt like a god. He could taste the win already.

Folarin put his foot to the pedal and slowly gained traction, overtaking the Cayenne by a few inches. Just a bit more. He looked down at his speedometer as the needle touched the really high numbers. Even just a little more than this could be very risky, especially since there was a giant speedbump ahead that he would need to slow down in time for, but he was certain he could make it. There was a lot at stake here. This man had laughed in his face. Had nearly scratched his baby. Then called him out in front of beautiful women. He couldn't afford to just...

~ Please. ~

Fuck.

And to his horror, Folarin watched himself slowly hit the brakes and let the Cayenne come from behind and speed past him, the driver laughing loudly. He saw backseat girl's face fall as she sat back down and wound her windows up. Folarin continued to slow until he was practically under the speed limit, barely even registering his surroundings anymore. He tried to breathe through the anger boiling his chest and the humiliation he just allowed himself endure.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He yelled out loud as he punched the horn repeatedly.