Same Difference [A Queer Nigerian Experience]

6 | THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY NIGHT

Outside, more people were still showing up. I noticed a bunch of girls, all excited, screaming, and snapping photos together. I stared for a bit, and they called me over to help take a picture of all four of them. I went over, ready to assist. They handed me a familiar, fancy iPhone 14, instructing me to step back a bit to capture their entire outfits.

I arranged their poses for a crisp shot, cheering them on about how stunning they looked to capture genuine smiles in a candid photo. "Yes girls!" I felt at ease with them, momentarily letting go of any assumptions they might have had about my sexuality while I hyped them up.

They huddled together around me as I scrolled through the pictures, each speaking rapidly about whose phone they were getting the pictures from. "Don't worry; he'll send me everything," I caught what one of the girls said, even though she was speaking quickly. I wasn't sure who the "he" she referred to was.

The girls stepped aside for the phone's owner, and I turned left, presenting the phone to Maxwell, smiling after finding out it was him. It made sense now why the phone seemed familiar. He took it, winked at the girls, and as they left, Maxwell leaned down toward my neck as if intending to whisper something. Despite the music not being too loud, I would be able hear him, but I couldn't fathom why he bent down to speak to me.

Maxwell complimented, "You smell really good," as he lifted his head.

I playfully responded, "No such thing as too much perfume." Wanting to return the compliment, my gaze moved beyond his flashy outfit, and then upward to his new hairstyle. He had pulled his dreads into a small ponytail at the back, leaving two strands down. "No more Travis Scott styled dreads," I remarked, realizing it was an inside joke only I understood, which explained the confused expression on his face. "I like what you did with your hair."

Maxwell thanked me. Though I had initially thought about mentioning my search for him, I decided against it, not wanting to inflate his ego. Instead, he told me, "I was actually looking out for you when I came out, before people started asking for my phone to take pics. When did you arrive, and how did I not see you?" It turned out Maxwell himself had been anticipating my presence.

"Maybe you were giving someone your phone at the time" I speculated. Maxwell nodded and shrugged in acknowledgment. He then suggested that we head back inside.

When we entered, we walked all the way to the VIP lounge. Passing by, I noticed Sewa immersed in the company of other girls, seemingly oblivious to my presence. Rasheed had abandoned the counter, no longer engaged in heterosexual behavior. Joining a new group, especially of guys I wasn't well-acquainted with, made me nervous. Maxwell diligently shook hands with his five friends when we got up to them, and I nodded when they asked "how far?". I particularly greeted Prudence separately, as she knew me, and because Maxwell had left her out during the handshakes.

I sat beside Prudence and her boyfriend, Investor, while Maxwell occupied the other side of the circular seat with the rest of the guys. The lounge was impressive, and I suspected Investor footed the bill. Anticipating Sewa noticing me soon, I made a conscious effort not to glance in her direction.

Investor greeted me enthusiastically, hyping me up as he introduced me to the guys, although they already knew me from being in the same department. Seeing the camaraderie, Investor called for more drinks. Unprepared to consume alcohol when I arrived at the party, I hesitated. At 18, I was of legal drinking age, so I knew declining wasn't an option.

A waiter swiftly delivered the liquor and glass cups, pouring it rapidly. Wanting to get it over with, I took a quick gulp, downing everything in haste. The intense burn down my throat and the overwhelming bitterness made me question how anyone could enjoy it. Maxwell and the guys laughed, advising me that I wasn't supposed to rush it. I wished I had just declined; it would have been less embarrassing than what unfolded.