بِسمِ الله الرّحمٰن الرّحيم
ADAMAWA STATE, NIGERIA.
"...I know, just think about what you will get in a month. That is more than what you get here for an entire year! I don't know why you are being so fucking stubborn about this because it's simple. Very simple." Fatima scoffed, quaffing down the cool water she's brought with her to the garage.
Layla raised her head away from the car's hood where she is currently repairing it's engine. She surveyed her little friend from head to toe as she sat on the plastic chair she's brought inside just for her to sit on. Her boss is the only person allowed to sit on that chair that looks like a throne. But he would lower down his principles whenever Fatima is in the garage, she looks and is rich after all. He is always after the little change left in the garage for him, it is never too small.
"Tee, I don't know what you want me to say." She muttered, a bit distracted with the task at hand. Her eyes went back to engine, using a plier to remove something forcefully before cleaning her blackened hands on her indigo overall.
Fatima breathed through her nose, looking at her best friend in disgruntlement. They've been friends for more than eight years now but she's never understood the girl even though she tells her time and time again that she is the only person she's allowed close to her and the only one that knows most of her darkest secrets. It's hard to believe that when she is always close to removing each and every strand of her hair from her head in frustration at the prospect of never able to persuade her off her independency.
She won't agree to work with her grandmother's clothing brand R&F as their model. Not because she wants to help her get more financially stable —like Layla had thought— but the potentials she has, it is there. Even her mother and Aunt admitted that she would be a nice asset for the company but Layla won't believe them. She thinks they are doing it to help her headstrong ass get some more cash so she refused to accept the proposal from years ago. They've been talking about the same thing for years, but she is more obstinate and unyielding than they'd initially thought.
The way she walks, her height, face and everything screams model. She doesn't see it though.
Biting her lower lip to bite back an embittered scream, Fatima murmured in a kinder tone. "Can you just think about it? It's been five years since grandmama started talking to you about it. She needs a model now more than ever. All the rival companies now working with her are getting more popularity than hers, it shouldn't be ruined now after years of hard work. Aunt Fatima wants to take over the company now so she can give Aunt Betsy whole power over the foundation. She said she is done working as a therapist, she wants to see how managing a clothing brand will work out. Can't you at least do it for her?"
Layla shoot her a quelling glare because this sounds awfully like emotional blackmail, something she is not good with. "Why don't you model for them? You are beautiful too, tall with prettier longer legs. Stop disturbing me and don't blackmail me!" She snapped, barring her teeth.
"You know I'm not meant for the ramp, you are! I'm meant to work in the plane, as an air hostess. Can you just give it another thought? I don't know why you are so stubborn on something that will benefit you more than anyone else." She deadpanned the last sentence, hitting her long nails on her Salem Black Croc bag.
"Be glad I'm busy, I would've wrecked your face for that comment. You of all people should know that I don't do things that will benefit me. I don't want the goodness in life. I am just living through it because I cannot do anything else." Layla emphasized by hitting something in the hood with groove joint-plier.
Fatima's eyes dilated with a different emotion away from chagrin. "You are so fucking complicated, bitch." She decided to change the topic, Layla is getting off herself and she wants no argument with the lady. "How about we go out for lunch? And catch up with Lana?"
"Lana is back? When?"
"She landed just few hours ago. We shouldn't allow her to rest after taking off like that without telling us. Will you be able to close up early today? Or should I talk to Mr. Han?" Fatima wiggled her brows, the memory of flirting with the older stern man the last time she was there vivid in their heads.
Layla chuckled briskly, shaking her head negatively. "Please, don't talk to him ever again in your life. The man wouldn't stop disturbing my life. Always asking when you are coming back."
"Then let's leave before he comes back. I have this nice restaurant we need to try out then I'm going back home to tell Aunt about your decision." Fatima raised a brow, knowing how much Layla respects her Aunty.
"Do as you wish, sweetheart. She understands me more than you do after all." Layla gave a shrug, went to the single washing hand basin to wash her hands more like scrub them off followed by her face with the Cetaphil face wash she's recently bought. It is always in her overall pocket because the other workers there won't hesitate to wash their hands with her face wash without reading it. Besides, it is too expensive for them to use when they don't know it's value.
"I'm starting to envy the connection between you two." Fatima grumbled, her face set grim but her eyes are shining with the love she has for both of them.
In a way, they have a lot of things in common with her favorite Aunt, Fatima Musa Babagana whom she is named after as she happens to be her father's one and only younger sister. Layla and Fatima do get along in ways no one can ever understand, it just sprouted out into something beautiful. She always understands what is wrong with Layla, ask her not to push her into telling her anything and so on. And she is the only woman Layla talks to amongst geriatrics apart from her friends' parents.
But Fatima Rashid Babagana won't ever get why they are so connected, more like daughter and mother. She loves it though, at least her friend has someone to talk to about everything and it looks like they've had a great deal of that talking for the past eight years since they've known each other.
"Don't do that, sweetheart. Enviousness is a disease that I don't want you to get diagnosed with." She winked, removing the two buttons of her overall then remembered that they are still out in public.
Fatima giggled. "Oh, I was waiting for you to bare yourself out for those wolves. I know they've been hanging around for a glimpse."
Layla rolled her eyes, adjusted the overall then started traipsing to the staff only room. "Hang on there, let me change."
"Take your time."
Now dressed in slim fit boyfriend jeans, crimson western shirt with regular long sleeves, Layla felt more comfortable again with her body not that she's ever been insecure. With red color though, she feels like she can conquer the entire world with just a snap of her finger. Her mouth lined with matching blood rep lipstick, her new Louboutin platform high heels and a muffler around her head, she killed the look. They had to rush by her small dingy apartment so she can change her outfit.
One thing about Layla, no matter how poor and impoverished she is, there is never time to look hideous or grotesque except if she is in the garage. She'd rather starve and go about for days without good food in her stomach than see an outfit she likes without getting to buy it. Her life revolves around clothes, more of them. When it comes to looking good, not even the rich Fatima Rashid Babagana can compete with her. And she is not trying too hard for that.
Her fashion sense is high, which is why the Babagana women want her to join their business so she can help blow it up. She's gotten many proposals like that but never surf through them. She loves and adores cars, so she went to garage even with zero knowledge on how it works but the minute she set her feet inside, everything started pouring down her head. She knows how to join wires to get a car to reawaken, remove rotten nuts to adjust movements and so on.
But her favorite part in the garage is getting to go around with peoples' car for awhile in the name of testing it and seeing whether it works perfectly. She'd roll down the window, let her hair out and turn on the music high to it's peak and enjoy some lone time with herself. That never seize to bring a smile on her face since she could vaguely remember a distant memory of her father taking her out on long car rides in Canada. She's missed them, her parents.
Hissing beneath her breath, she turned around to see who just pinched her albeit knowing no one would dare do that if not Lana. "Just what the fuck, Lana?"
Lana Abdulmutalib standing five feet three grinned at her friend, showing her whole new refilled teeth toothily that made Layla's scowl resolve into a look of confoundment. She went to New Delhi, India, to get her teeth cleaned and refilled. She grew up with complicated teeth, tried braces and all those sort of things but it didn't work out so lastly, they suggested refilling and scraping off the ones hurting her. She looked like a zombie before, not able to smile or even talk properly because of how pointy her teeth were.
But now, she looks so freaking awesome and her teeth and so straight, white and just too pretty. It complimented her innocent yet ferocious features of s-shaped brows, close set hooded eyes, upturned nose and Cupid lips in a diamond shaped face. Her jaw set taut ready to be mutinous as always, her smile so mischievous —one they only see when they are alone since she is always afraid of smiling in public afraid of being looked upon or pointed at for her weird teeth.
She's tried time and time again to tell her there is nothing wrong with her teeth except for it's uniqueness but she wouldn't accept that. People are ruthless, they ruin her each time she tried building her up. Talking unnecessarily about her teeth, the way they sharped and touch her lower lip whenever she talks or the way she bared them out when she smiles. But thank God, everything is fine now and they won't hear the end of it from her. Lana is one wicked lady, that is why they clicked after all.
"You don't have the peculiarity that drew me to you, anymore. I can finally let go of your crazy ass and break up with you." Layla commented, staring at her friend's entire face like she is another different person there in front of her.
Lana rolled her eyes, used to Layla's dramatic words then hook her arms around Layla's and Fatima, yanked them to the table she's been sitting on in the restaurant. They wanted to surprise her but she beat them to it, she's missed them more. Her backbones. They are all taller than her, they look funny now that she is dragging them, being the shortest of the trio.
"Just say you miss me, Layyah. It's not that hard you know." Lana teased, knowing very much Layla would rather swallow up a spoonful of sand than say she's missed her.
Layla sat down on one of the chairs, snatched one the menus off the table and started browsing through instead of answering Lana. The menu got wrenched away from her hands by none other than Lana, her eyes narrowed. "You can't ignore me, you don't have that right. Now start talking. What's happened after I left?"
Layla crossed her arms on the table, gazed at Fatima who's staring at them in pure amusement, her lips tilted at the edges. "There is nothing to tell. Only that we were freaked out when we found out you left the country all alone."
Lana's eyes dilated to a look of hidden love she has for Layla. The girl that never permits her emotions to rein over her or be the center of her life. She's always been cold towards them all, not nice but not too welcoming either. It's a wonder they are still friends, she likes going around all alone after their high school days. Even surrounded with bunch of admirers and minions, Layla Abd Al-Tunaij is a lonely person.
Knowing she won't appreciate this display of emotions, Lana schooled her expression to that of nonchalance. "It was all choked up. Mama had to go to the hospital that day for an important surgery but luckily, Faizan came back and decided to go with me. I called both your numbers but not reachable and there was no time. The doctor that conducted the surgery is a busy man, we had to leave immediately. It was hard getting him to agree but thank God, I'm back with my teeth fresh and clean."
Fatima smiled, a large one. "I'm so happy for you. You look more prettier now that you are looking so ecstatic about it."
Lana squeezed back her hand too. "Thank you, Tee."
"I'm still on my words, breaking up with you." Layla shrugged her shoulders when their attention yawed to her. She isn't joking too, she wants to get rid of both of them and get another life somewhere. She is tired of Nigeria and it's high time she deviates, things will get complicated.
"The thing that prevent you from looking like everyone else or in particular, what drew me to you in the first place. I was amazed by your teeth." Lana repeated the exact words Layla had told her the first few minutes when they'd started talking during English class back in high school.
Layla looked at her with bare eyes then cast them down to the menu in front of her. Can she let go of them? She's been staying back for their sake but seriously, this is what she's been avoiding her whole life. Getting attached. That is why she kept on flying from one place to another without getting too attached to anyone not to leave them.
"At least, say I look more prettier now." Lana pouted, really looking desperately in need of a compliment from Layla.
"You do look prettier, not a joke."
"Sir, you called for me?" Layla stood in front of her boss, Mr. Han whose real name happens to be Moses but because of his love for the movie 'The Karate Kid' and Jaden Smith's mentor in the movie, he changed his name.
Mr. Han, a small jolly man in his late fifties, three chins and large flared nose. The man that helped her when her spirit was dampened, brought her out from homelessness. She'd never forget what he's done to her even with the way he's treated her. They were on each other's neck, he couldn't fire her for reasons she doesn't know.
He stopped counting the money in his hands and look up at her with a wide smile, his eyes glinting with so much joy. Layla is shocked now, she's never seen him looking so happy, real happiness. He is always grim, tired and slagged but never smiling with so much felicity pouring from every fiber of his being. Something is definitely missing here and she won't like what this whole thing is about.
"Oh, you've made me so proud. But I'll have to let you go now. You need to leave this garage and go work for Captain Zayd Al-Hafiz. You are fired but with good note. No need to come to work tomorrow, have a good day."
"What the fuck?!"
Are you ready for our Captain?!