(059 - Obsession)
You can already tell from the title of the chapter that it will be divided into two parts, and it's going to be Semeeha dominated 🌚.
I've decided to give babe a little break😌, so these particular chapters (parts 1 and 2) will be pretty different from the regular in her POV that pisses you off. You will kinda like her... pity her, and you will see her bring her to guard down just a little bit.
I'm anticipating how this will make y'all feel.
Let's get into it✨.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐇𝐀
(Semeeha Iris Malik)
The driver drove through the gates of the unfamiliar building before swerving right to find a parking space in the spacious parking lot. There weren't so many cars in the parking lot and it made me wonder if this was the right venue for the shoot. But mother cannot be in the car and not know that we were at the wrong place.
So, this has to be the place.
The driver parked and turned off the ignition before stepping out of the vehicle in a routinely fashion, leaving just Mother and me in the car. He did that all the time Mother was in the car with me because he knew that she always gives me one of her pep talks before we go for any shoot or a fashion show.
But even though this was a routine, I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of my mother and me in the same space.
Suddenly, that familiar unnerving feeling and tension that's always associated with my mother filled the car and began to suffocate me. I suddenly started feeling immense heat, pulling on the collar of my plain blue Kanan brand top to allow fresh air flow, but nothing.
The heat only intensified.
I wasn't sure if the heat was because the air conditioner was now off and the car windows were winded up, or it was because of the consciousness that Natasha Malik was just right beside me.
I definitely vote for the latter because even with her heavy clothes and even heavier makeup, Natasha Malik did not break as much as a bead of sweat on her forehead, or anywhere for that matter. So, it wasn't the car.
It was her. All her.
Is it normal to feel this nervous in the presence of someone that is meant to make you feel safe?
I can't help but ask myself, dabbing my face and neck with a handkerchief.
The woman wasn't even paying any heed to me, leaning back against the seat and typing away on her phone leisurely like we didn't have an appointment to meet in the next five minutes.
I was kinda curious as to why she followed me for this particular shoot. Since she's my manager, my mother receives all the mail invitations for collaborations with brands and usually, she'd send the ones she dimmed fit for me to model for to my email with all the necessary pieces of information.
More often than not, I'd be the one to go for the shoot myself, sometimes Sheba or Mama Marie would follow me... but never with Mother.
But this one was different.
She got an invitation for this shoot weeks ago and told me immediately. She didn't give that much information, like which brand or company I would be modeling for and I still don't have that information up until this moment.
She only noted that it was important for building my brand and I must not mess it up. She was strict with my eating regimen and heaven knows, I've lost weight that I didn't even know I had. It has not been... easy. But I couldn't back down because that would be equivalent to a death sentence.
Now, we are here and we are about to be late, even after spelling out how important this particular shoot was.
She was the one that always rang it in my ear like an alarm that I should never be late for any shoot, and that I should always get there at least thirty minutes before time. But here we are, five minutes to the beginning of the shoot and we were still sitting in the car like we didn't have any place to be.
And she didn't born me well to step out of the car before her.
So, I just had to sit and wait for her to be done with whatever she was doing. She must have a reason for stalling. Knowing Natasha Malik, she always wants to make a statement. Only heaven knows what this particular statement is.
"Iris,"
She finally spoke, calling my name in a tone like silk, jolting me out of my thoughts. I sat up straight, turning to look at her. Her neatly manicured fingers were still typing away on her phone but I could tell that her attention was on me still.
"Yes, mother,"
She paused her typing momentarily, or rather she stopped it all together because she closed her phone case over the screen and pushed it into her back before she turned to look at me.
Her gaze on me was gentle, but I knew better. Her dark orbs were fiery with an unspoken warning, and threats actually and I knew exactly what she was going to say before she opened her mouth to speak.
"We have been doing this for close to four years now, so I don't have to remind you of the rules when it comes to photoshoots," She spoke, her voice clipped and precise.
"But I am going to remind you once again because this particular photo shoot is very important to your brand as an international model and you must EXCEL."
The way she used the word EXCEL made it seem like I was about to write a very important exam. But in this context, it seemed like this photoshoot was just as important as an examination, if not more.
Mother was so obsessed with me attaining ultimate perfection in the industry and this was certainly not an exception. If anything, it looked like I was about to reach the peak with how mother was taking this thing.
So, I nodded.
Big mistake though, because of a look of utmost irritation that contorted on her face that very instant. She didn't have to tell me what I did wrong before I knew.
I didn't respond with my words.
"Yes, mother," I answered, lowering my gaze from hers briefly. When I looked back at her, the expression of irritation had debilitated but the swift once-over she gave me almost reduced me to harsh under their stare.
"The number one and most important rule is don't ask any questions about whatever they ask you to do," She stated.
"Just do it,"
That rule was one I was very familiar with because that was the one rule my mother never stopped singing into my ears since I became a model. It's the one rule my mother told me never to forget because if I ever do contrary to that rule, my career might as well just take a head dive into the ocean and crumble.
"Good girls don't ask questions in this industry, they just do, and they make it big," She went on. "If this collaboration shoot wasn't going to benefit you in any way, you know I won't have accepted the invitation. Everything I do is for you and your future, Iris,"
I fought the urge to frown at that last statement, confusion washing over me immediately.
There was something about that statement that didn't sit well with me, that made me instantly dread this entire collaboration shoot without even knowing what it was about. And I think that's where the problem lies, the fact that I didn't know what or who the shoot was for.
The vagueness of this entire shoot, a vagueness I haven't really paid attention to since Mother talked about it suddenly dawned on me and made me weary. Because it seems like my mother signed a deal completely different from any other deal we have ever signed.
A deal I possibly won't be comfortable with.
And just when I wanted to believe that I was probably overthinking this whole thing, she made a final statement,
"You know I love you, and I am doing the very best for you,"
Now, that was all I needed to know that something was off.
Terribly off.
I cannot remember the last time my mother told me to my face that she loves me. That made it even more foreign hearing it from her right now. It wasn't something... sweet, coming from her. It wasn't something that made my heart melt and made me feel safe.
In fact, it was the exact opposite, from my own mother.
That statement that would have made any child feel secure and cared for made me cringe so badly. A cold, unsettling chill ran down my spine and dispersed to every part of my body, coursing through every vein, into my bloodstream, and straight to my heart. My heart picked up the beat, but not in a good way.
...You know I love you, and I am doing the very best for you...
That statement was all I needed to stamp my suspicion from earlier.
I will not be comfortable with this shoot.
We got out of the car and started making our way to the white-storey building. When I glanced up, I caught the logo bold logo that read Diva Studios, written in black and pink cursive font with an outline of a feminine face.
I've never heard of the studio before. The building looked relatively new too like they just finished construction work on it, so it made sense why they wanted to do the photoshoot here. If this Diva people were just starting up in the city, they need the publicity.
And who better to give them publicity than an A-list fashion model?
Not my words. My mother's.
Any time we collaborated with a start-up business or company, she would say we were lucky they chose us to be the face of their new brand. Or rather, I should be lucky they chose me. Every other model out there will follow in my footsteps and I'll grow my name.
Again, her words, not mine.
We walked into the building together, me closely behind mother. The interior of the building was pretty serene and homey. Everything was in the theme of baby pink and white, ranging walls of the building, to the cushions and throw pillows, to the bean bags that sat on the floor.
Exquisitely framed artworks also decorated the walls.
Contrary to the scantiness that was portrayed in the parking lot, the inside of the building was buzzing with a frenzy. People were doing one thing or the other, walking from one place to the other. No one was really paying any attention to mother or me as we walked in.
I wasn't sure whether to be insulted or pleased that for once, the attention wasn't on me.
We walked further into the building and I thought we'd stop by the receptionist to state our business, but mother made a detour past the receptionist's table. The receptionist noticed this and stood up.
"Ma'am, you can't-" She tried to call mother's attention.
"Don't be stupid," Was mother's immediate response to her, cutting her off sharply without even sparing the lady as much as a glance in her direction.
Ouch.
From my peripheral vision, I saw the lady sit back down. It's like she knew better than to engage Natasha Malik in a squabble. And honestly, she certainly did know better, if not, she'd be walking out of this building in tears and with all her belongings in a box.
"Natasha," A heavily accented voice pierced through my thoughts.
I looked up to see three people making their way down the hallway we were in and toward us; two women and a man. The woman in the middle was smiling right at us and I knew that she was the one that called mother's name.
"Celeste," Mother's lips mimicked the smile that was stretched at the corners of the woman's lips, meeting her halfway. They held each other in a loose hug, giving air kisses.
"I'm so glad you could make it," The woman, Celeste, spoke, her thick Afrikaan accent giving off that she wasn't Nigerian. "I was beginning to think that you will cancel our appointment," she added.
Mother chuckled lightly, a sound that was very foreign to me. I don't think I can remember the last time I heard mother laugh.
Another unusual action from her today. Might have we'll start counting.
"Nonsense," She brushed what Celeste said with a wave of her hand. "You know that would be very unprofessional of me to do. My apologies for taking longer to get here, I was just prepping my baby girl," She flashed a smile at me and I fought the urge to keep my face straight.
Baby girl? Who? Me?
Mother has never given me an endearment. If she wasn't calling me by my middle name; Iris, she wasn't calling me at all.
Unusual Action No. 3
Celeste turned to look at me as soon as mum made that statement, her smile stretching further up her face. I tried to smile back but when I saw her eyes drop and rack through my body in assessment, my smile faltered.
The smile didn't leave her lips, in fact, it transformed into an approving look but I couldn't help but feel subjected.
She didn't say anything to me, only nodding slowly before she looked back at my mother with an impressed smile.
"She's perfect," Celeste said to mother, whose lips widened in a proud smile.
"Of course, she is," she giggled, rolling her eyes comically, "She's Semeeha Iris Malik for God's sake, Celeste. Put a little respect to the name,"
I couldn't tell if mother was just teasing or was dead serious. Either way, Celeste laughed lightly, her hands raised in mock surrender.
"Didn't mean to disrespect the household name, Natasha," She said, and again, Mother brushed her off with a wave of her hand. In the midst of all this, neither Celeste nor my mother regarded me.
It kinda made me feel invisible.
I felt someone was looking at me, no - staring at me. I could feel the person's eyes racking up and down my body intricately. When I followed the feeling of the gaze, my eyes landed on the man that came with Celeste, standing to her right. He was staring right at me.
Rude.
I grimaced, looking away from him. When I looked back, he was still staring and my frown deepened. I thought he'd look away, seeing that he had been caught staring. But he didn't.
Instead, I watched as his lips quirked in a small, almost unnoticeable smirk before his eyes gave me a once-over. A much slower one that made me realize that he was checking me out. Only that he wasn't checking me out in a way that gave the cliché belly butterflies or giddy feelings. It was quite the opposite actually.
His look made my stomach churn in disgust.
I looked away from him quickly, throwing my hands around myself as if it would make me stop feeling his stare piercing my skin.
It didn't work. I could still feel his stare on me.
What the hell is this...
"Allow me to introduce my associates," Celeste's voice cut through my thoughts again. "This is my assistant, Imani," She gestured to the younger woman that stood to her left. "And this is the company's photographer, Tony," She gestured to the man that had been staring at me.
That was still staring at me.
While Mother didn't as much as spare them a glance or respond to their curt greeting, all I could think about was how the man that was leering at me with incitement was supposed to be the photographer. Meaning he'd have his eyes on me all the time.
The discomfort I've been feeling all day intensified.
Great. Just Great.
"Shall we?" Mother asked. Celeste nodded.
"Right this way," Celeste led the way and we followed.
Right now, I felt like a cow being ushered into the slaughter slab.
My initial intuition was right.
There was absolutely no way I could be comfortable with this kind of photo shoot. But there was nothing I could do about how I felt. I had no power to do anything. Mother didn't need my permission to accept the invitation to this shoot, and she didn't need my permission right now.
I was doing this whether I liked it or not. And not only did I not like it... I absolutely hated it.
I hated it so much.
Exposing my body was something I would never grow to be comfortable with no matter how much I tried. No matter how much I tried to be that girl that was always proud of showing off her perfect body, I can never be that girl... because my body wasn't perfect.
But of course, Mother didn't know that. Or maybe she did and chose to ignore it. That was why she decided to accept an invitation for me to model for a Lingerie Line.
Lingerie.
Apparently, the Celeste woman was the owner of the popular South African Lingerie and Underwear line called Luxe. She's expanding her business to several countries of Africa and Nigeria was one of it. She was just setting up and needed a face for her company here in Nigeria.
Me.
A seventeen year old girl who was just about to round up high school being the face of a Lingerie company.
If some other models were in my shoe, they'd be glad for the opportunity to represent such a big brand. It'd be a huge honour. But I tell you with all sincerity, it was no honour for me.
Usually, I'm a face model. Makeup, Skincare, whatever it was, I used my face. If at all I wanted to model for a clothing line, it has always been full body wear, nothing illicit or revealing. Nothing I wouldn't be uncomfortable in.
But now, I'm literally going to be wearing something that will expose more than half of my body, especially the part I desperately wanted to cover up.
And, asides from the fact that this shoot was going to fuel a lot of my insecurities and I was nowhere near as curvy as I should be to pull off lingerie, the photographer has been giving me looks that told me I shouldn't be prancing before him in a pair of bra and panties.
Besides, is this really what a girl my age should be doing? Modeling for a Lingerie Line?
The inappropriateness of this entire charade all but disturbed me. But again, there was absolutely nothing I could do about how I felt.
"Why haven't you dressed up yet?" Mother's annoyed voice jolted me out of my thoughts.
I finally focused on the mirror that I have been staring at absentmindedly and saw her right behind me, glancing at the lingerie samples I'd be sampling before she met my gaze, a scowl on her face.
I gulped.
"Mother, I-"
"Do you think we have all the time in the world to be wasting here!" She snapped at me, cutting the rest of my words off abruptly. I visibly flinched at the intensity of her voice but that didn't deter her from continuing.
"You have about ten different outfits to use for the shoot today and you have not even worn one yet," She went on like she never stopped speaking. "Do you have the consciousness that people are waiting for you? People that came all the way from South Africa just to choose you for their brand. Do you want to give them a bad impression of us-"
"I don't think I'm comfortable with the shoot," The words left my lips before I could stop them, cutting mother's words before she could finish them.
The scowl on mother's face turned into a deep frown, her well-made-up face scrunching up so much that wrinkles began to appear on her forehead and just beneath her cheekbones.
Natasha Malik hated wrinkles like hell, but at this point, she didn't seem to care that her face was all wrinkled up. What she cared about was the fact that I had just interrupted her to say... that.
I have never interrupted my mother before. And even if I have, I have never interrupted her to negate what she's saying.
"What did you say?"
She walked further into the dressing room, towards me and I took a step back till my back was pressed against the mirror, fear coursing through my veins at the maniacal expression that contorted the corners of her face. I couldn't speak, couldn't find my voice,
And God forbid I repeat what I said.
But of course, she wasn't having that at all.
"I asked you a question, Iris. And I demand a response." She spoke, her voice dangerously calm, sending chills running down my spine and goosebumps sprouting all over my skin.
This was her way of telling me that I must repeat what I said.
I gulped inaudibly, taking in a shaky breath before I started speaking again.
"I-I'm not comfortable with the shoot, mother," I said, my voice almost as low as a whisper but the quietness of the surrounding made it very audible for my mother to hear. Her neatly drawn brows drew together in a deeper frown, her silence urging me to continue.
"I don't think it is appropriate for someone as young as I am to model for a lingerie line," I said, picking my words carefully so as not to piss her off. "I'm not comfortable with being the face of this brand at all, mother. I'm not comfortable,"
"Who said you have to be comfortable with it?" Came her response, nine words that outrightly dismissed everything I just said. "Whoever gave you that idea, Iris? Tell me,"
Her words rendered me completely speechless and I couldn't speak back to her.
"Listen to me and listen good, Iris," Her voice was stern, warning. Chills crept up my back and the hairs on my neck stood up.
"This industry is all about versatility and flexibility and that's what I am trying to build your brand on. Companies won't want to work with a rigid model. We need to show the world that Semeeha Malik can do more than makeup and skincare modeling. We need to show the world that you are so much more even though you are not,"
I felt a painful pang in my chest at her last statement. The fact that she was able to say something like that to me without flinching was no surprise but it didn't make it hurt any less.
How will the world see me as so much more when my own mother doesn't?
"And it's not as if you were asked to go naked, Iris! Any other model will kill to be in your place right now but you are the one here! Be thankful for this opportunity to expand your brand instead of complaining like an ungrateful fool!" She hissed distastefully.
Wow...
I didn't even know what to say, allowing my heart to bleed in silence.
Mother didn't regard me anymore, her hands scampering through the heap of lingeries that I'd be modeling in. She picked a black two-piece set that was on the hanger before shoving it to my chest with an unspoken order to put it on.
"I give you five minutes to put that on and come out. I have a flight to catch to Abuja by 5 pm. We don't have all day,"
And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving me alone once again. Tears welled up in my eyes and I struggled to push them back down, holding up the black two-piece lingerie over my body.
Is this really how I want to build my brand? In this subjective manner? At this rate, I won't even be shocked if Mother makes me model nude. But the fact that there is a possibility it might happen didn't make it any less scary to look forward to, especially because there was nothing I could do about it, just like there was nothing I could do about today.
My life wasn't mine to control.
It has never been mine to control.
Few hours and six lingeries later, my uneasiness about this entire shoot did not go. If anything, it increased by a thousand folds. I was feeling extremely sick about everything, wanting nothing more than to run out of this place for the sake of myself and my sanity.
The photographer, Tony, has been giving me these looks that make my skin crawl with disgust, telling me to pose in ways a teenage girl should definitely not be posing. I wasn't sure if he was giving me those poses because he wanted me to showcase the lingeries or if it was just to fuel whatever sick thought was going through his mind.
Either way, it made bile go up my throat so many times, I had to stop myself from vomiting all over the backdrop. And the worse part was that mother agreed to every single pose he asked me to do, no matter how inciting, or downright lewd and heavily sexual they were.
I have never felt so objectified in my life.
Is this how Dawn feels when she has guys checking her out in that way, or her DMs with risqué messages?
I take it back. I take it all back. It doesn't feel pretty at all.
"Jot those hips out, sweetheart!" Tony shouted in both frustration and annoyance for the hundredth time since we started the shoot, unsatisfied with the way I was posing, again.
Can someone help me tell this stupid man that I don't have hips to jot!
I stood straight and glared at him, but couldn't say anything back to him. Not with everyone around, especially my mother and Celeste who were both sitting down several feet away, drinking champagne and talking about who knows what.
"You are not giving me any vibe with that pose, sweetheart," I cringed so hard at the pet name he gave me in just a few hours of meeting him, knowing that it didn't come from the sweetest or kindest part of his heart.
More like the perverted part.
"I'm trying my best," I replied through gritted teeth, throwing my hands around me to shield any bits I could from his piercing gaze. It irritated me to the core how he kept racking his eyes over my body, looking at me like I was a piece of meat on a slaughter slab.
It's taking all of me not to scream for him to stop looking at me like that, my patience already tethering over the edge.
"No you are not trying at all," Tony began to walk towards me. The closer he got, the more my heart pounded rapidly against my rib cage.
"Feel free," Tony's voice was soothing but did nothing to calm me down. "Be sexy, sweetheart," His tone transcended from soothing to suggestive, and his lips quirked in a smirk.
I shivered.
He got to me and grabbed me by the waist, eliciting a gasp from me at how suddenness of his hands on my skin. Goosebumps sprouted on my skin and bile rose in my throat.
"You lean this way,"
His hand trailed down my waist to my hips and groped it. My blood froze cold and I stilled, my heart pounding faster. I glanced at where mother was still sitting with Celeste. Of course, she wasn't paying attention to this.
None of the crew members were. It was just me and Tony.
I exhaled shakily, counting down to the last bit of self control I could muster.
Five...
I jolted when I felt his hand trail up to my side, brushing against my ribs, the exact spot beneath my left breast. His other hand was still tightly holding my waist as if he didn't want me to escape from his inciting hold. When I looked at him, he was already looking at me, his lips still tugged in that smirk.
He knew that I knew exactly what he was doing and it seemed to please him so much that he was getting reactions from me, even though they negated his intensions.
Four...
"You need to show off this beautiful body of yours, sweetheart," He whispered in a husky tone, his breath on my face making me heavily conscious of how close he was to me.
On a normal day, I would have basked in the feeling of a man calling my body beautiful. Instead, all I could feel right now was my stomach churning in utmost disgust. My breath hitched as I fought back the overwhelming urge to scream.
Three...
"You need to sell yourself," That sounded all shades of wrong. "Give everyone something to look at asides from the lingerie. Give everyone something to lust after..."
What the fuck!
His hands kept creeping up till they were directly underneath my breasts, and I knew he could feel the swell. A small, guttural groan that sounded at the back of his throat proved that right, and I swear to God, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.
Was this disgusting piece of shit getting off from this? And how the fuck is this going unnoticed by everyone else?
I swallowed, knowing that I was just one more push from going over the edge into a plethora of insanity if he keeps this up.
Two...
"Do I make you nervous, Sweetheart?" Tony's smirk widened, and I could tell he was having a hell of a field day with what he was doing.
He was enjoying himself, and it made my blood boil!
"I see the look you have been giving me,"
He leaned his head further down till his face was barely inches away from mine, his breath brushing the skin of my face in an unpleasant caress. I whimpered, trying to get as far away from him as possible, but his death around on my waist didn't let me.
"I-I wasn't g-giving you any l-look," I hated the way my voice quivered in fear, but I couldn't help it. My eyes were pleading for him to let me go, but he seemed to be enjoying himself quite well.
Jesus Christ...
"Oh but you were," He whispered, his lips brushing my skin swiftly and eliciting a shiver from me. "Those teasing eyes, the extra effort you put into those poses to look sexy for me. You want this, don't you? You want me to touch you,"
"N-No, n-no please-"
His hands inched higher and fully groped my left boob, cutting off my pleas mid way.
I saw Red.
One!
"GET OFF ME!"
I pushed Tony with everything in me, putting as much distance between us a I could. He fell back at the impact, hitting the reflector and flood light stands till he was tipping over with them. The ruckus alerted every single person in the room, including Mother and Celeste.
I didn't wait to see what was going to happen next before I bolted for the dressing room, wanting to get as far away from everyone as possible.
I didn't wait to see what was going to happen next before I bolted for the dressing room, wanting to get as far away from everyone as possible.
Safely in the confines of the dressing room, I allowed the tears I didn't even know I was holding back to fall, rubbing my hands against every exposed skin and hoping that somehow, I'd be cleansed of the violation from barely seconds ago. But it didn't work because I could still feel Tony's hand on my body, even in places he didn't touch.
I can't believe that monster touched me!
I've always heard of ladies being assaulted this way in the industry but I didn't think I'd ever be able to relate to it. I also didn't think that it was that big of a deal because I've never gone through it... until today. I never thought I'd witness it firsthand.
And now that I have, I felt like peeling the skins off my body with knives. I have never felt so violated in my life!
I wanted to die!
"What was the meaning of that!" I heard mother bark before she angrily swept the curtain and walked into the dressing room, startling me into silence. My tears or shaky demeanor seemed to get past her because the anger burning in her gaze didn't quench.
If anything, they intensified because I wasn't answering.
"Do you want me to slap the answer out of you!" She charged toward me and I tumbled back, almost tripping against a pile of clothes on the floor.
"H-He t-touched me..." I stuttered out between sobs, wrapping my hands around myself. Mother looked on like she didn't understand what I meant by he touched me, so I tried to expatiate.
"H-He touched me inappropriately, Mother," I said. "He has been giving me these suggestive looks since we got here and even during the shoot, asking me to make some very lewd and sexual poses. Just right now, he groped my hips and touched my... breasts. I couldn't just sit back and allow him to harass me!"
After recounting all of that, I expected mum to match out there and shut down the entire shoot. No mother will ever be comfortable with her daughter being harassed like that. I know Dawn and Hilary's mum won't take that shit sitting down.
But I seemed to have forgotten Natasha Malik was nothing like Debbie Dayo and Evelyn Eghosa. For someone that opened my buttons and pushed up my boobs to showcase at school, I think expected way too much from her.
Which is why her next words shocked me to hell and back.
"Harass you?" The amusement in her tone rubbed me off in a very malicious way. "He merely just touched you and you are here, crying like a spoilt brat? Are you joking with me?"
What? My eyes widened in disbelief,
"M-Mother, h-he..." My words trailed off as my shock didn't even allow me to form a coherent sentence.
"He touched your hips and breasts? So what?" Her words felt like a slap on my face, like a punch in the gut knocking the breath right out of me.
"You were meant to experience that sooner or later. It's not big deal at all," She brushed my complaint off with a dismissive wave of her hand, completely invalidating my feelings and concerns.
"Listen to me,"
She stepped closer to me and I stepped back immediately, staring at my mother in utter incredulity. And the fact that she wasn't the slightest bit thrown off by my reaction scared the living daylight out of me.
"Models experience these things all the time," She said with so much nonchalance, it flabbergasted me. "They get touched all over their body, and most times, some of them are even nude while they are at it. But do you see them complaining? Of course not!"
I looked at the woman I call my mother like she had grown a second head, shocked to the bones by her words as tears ran down my cheeks.
Natasha Malik has never really been one to care about how her words affected anyone, even me her daughter, but the last thing I expected was for her to show her insensitivity in a very sensitive issue like this, and subject me to even more harassment and assault from that man.
I can't believe she's doing this to me!
"This part of the job, Iris." She went on irrespective of how the way I was looking at her. "This is what you signed up for when you became a model so take it like a big girl and stop pouting.-
Now fix up your face and let's get out there. You will apologize to Celeste and Tony for your uncomely behavior and we'll get this over with. I have a flight to catch in the next three hours and Lagos traffic is no one's friend," She warned, turning around to start walking and expecting me to follow behind her.
God Forbid!
"I'm not going," The words left my lips in a whisper before I could think hard about the repercussions.
Mother halted in her steps immediately after I said those words, turning around to look at me with eyes filled with murderous rage. I have never defiled her orders.
Never.
This was a first. And I was doing it for my own good, even though deep down, I knew I was going to die.
"Come again," She dared me.
"I said I'm not going back there!" I repeated, my voice coming out in an involuntary snap. "I can't have that man touching me appropriately, Mother, and I don't know why you would want to subject me to such harassment! It's disgusting!"
The words flew out of my mouth before I contain them, knowing fully well the kind of hell this will mean for me. But it was too late to take them back because the next thing I knew- or rather felt, was a sharp, painful sting on my cheek.
The agonizing impact against my face knocked the breath out of me.
A drilling headache pierced through my head immediately, and pain washed through me like a tidal wave. Fresh tears stung my eyes as I placed my hand on my cheek, feeling immense heat radiating from it. When I looked up, I saw mother staring down at me with her eyes full of hate.
She slapped me.
For the first time since the beginning of my life, my mother laid her hands on me.
Jesus.
She charged at me, letting me know that she wasn't done with me before she made for my ear, and started wringing it till I was writhing in pain.
"Who the hell do you think you are to open your filthy mouth and yell at me? Are you mad?" She growled in anger, twisting my hair even more between her sharp fingers and eliciting a small cry of pain from me.
"Please..." I begged but she didn't stop.
"I do everything I can to give you a perfect life!" She whispered harshly into my ears. "I burst my ass off to make sure you have everything you need; clothes on your backs, food on your table! I even afford to send you to one of the best schools in the country. All I ask is for only one thing in return, and that's for you to Obey Me! Do you now think you are now too big to obey your mother, Iris?!"
"N-No, M-Mother..."
"Good. Now, listen to me, and listen good!" She growled, twisting my ear even more and I cried out. "I will not let you ruin everything I have worked so hard for. It's either you kill me or I kill you before you do so. I made you, Semeeha Iris Malik, and trust me, I can easily destroy you with just the snap of my fingers.-"
A shiver ran down my spine at that statement.
"-Now, you will go out there, apologize to Celeste and Tony for your disgusting attitude, and complete that shoot," She instructed and I nodded vigorously, tears cascading down my eyes like a torrent. "Tony can touch every part of your body for all I care, you will suck it up and take it all like a big girl.-
And God help me, if you repeat that stunt you pulled today here again or anywhere else, I'll make your life a living hell, Iris. I promise you that! Do I make myself clear?"
I nodded again, fighting the breakdown that has been building up since the beginning of the day.
"I give you ten seconds to fix your face and get out there." With that, she walked out of the room, leaving me with even more turmoil of emotions than I came here with.
Unable to hold back anymore, I broke down.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
We were standing outside Diva Studios, finally done with the photoshoot. But the fact that we were done didn't douse everything I'd been feeling. I was still angry, sad... repulsed beyond all reasonable doubt.
I felt empty.
Just like mother had instructed, I apologized to Celeste and Tony for my uncomely behavior as soon as I got out of the dressing room, and resumed the shoot without any complaints.
Tony touched me even more, a lot bolder about his intentions than before. With every grope and squeeze all in the name of positioning my body better for shots, he smirked deviously at me, knowing so well that there was nothing I could do to him now.
There was nothing I could do but take it like a big girl, just like my mother said I should.
I smiled for the camera like a good girl, twisting my body this way and that to exude a sexy demeanor to impress Mother. And impressed she was, a proud smile stretched at the corners of her lips, basking in Celeste's high praise that I was such an obedient girl.
This was what she wanted, right?
My stomach twisted and churned, My skin crawled at every touch, every grope, every squeeze. My hands clenched into fists and unclenched repeatedly as I fought so hard not to punch the useless man in his face.
But I couldn't do that. I couldn't react. All I could do was keep my expression as stoic as possible, and only laugh and smile when the camera was on me.
And he was enjoying it. He was enjoying my discomfort, enjoying seeing me squirm under his touch and writhe against him. He relished in the fact that he could do whatever he wanted with me and no one could question it.
I felt subjected, objectified, humiliated, and assaulted all in one but I could do absolutely nothing about it.
Nothing.
"I'm off,"
Mother's icy voice jerked me out of my thoughts. I turned to look at her, about to ask where she was off to when I sighted one of her other cars parked a couple of feet away from the one we were standing beside. That automatically reminded me about her flight.
I didn't know what to say to that. I wasn't sure what to say to anything she said because of the fear of being slapped again. My cheeks still stung from the one I received in the dressing room about thirty minutes ago.
So all I did was nod. And thankfully, she didn't lash out at me for that.
"I don't know when I'll be back, so big a good girl while I'm gone," She instructed as she sashayed her way to the car that waiting for her. In no time, the car zoomed off and she was gone living me in the middle of the compound.
I exhaled shakily before entering my ride.
"Get me out of here," I ordered the driver. His confused eyes glanced at me through the review mirror but he heeded, driving out of the premises. I thought I'd be able to breathe properly once I was out of the vicinity but I couldn't. Everything irked me.
Irritated me to the core.
At this point, the last place I wanted to be right now was the house. Mama Marie still wasn't around and the house was one gigantic heap of hollowness and void. If I go home now, all I'll possibly do is cry till there are no tears left in my eyes, eat till my tummy is painfully bloated, and throw everything I eat up in the most excruciating way ever.
And I wasn't exactly in the mood to make today a lot worse than it already was.
I need a distraction.
"Take me to Amber Estate," I told the driver and he nodded, making a turn that led to the estate.
I fished out my phone and turned it on, along with my data connection. Shockingly, asides from the class group chat, my WhatsApp was dry. No messages from anyone else. Not many people were on my contact list so it was so obvious that no one sent me any message.
Not even my friends.
I just hope Kizito picks up his phone. I thought to myself before dialing his number and putting a call through.
He picked at the third ring.
"Hey, Hey!" Like a breath of fresh on my shitty day, my lips stretched into an automatic smile at the sound of his deep voice from the other side of the call.
"Hey!" I called right back, unable to stop the smile from stretching further up my lips. I heard a little bit of movement in the background and a distant voice I assumed to be the television.
"Are you home?" I asked him.
"What?" Came his confusing feedback.
"I'm entering your estate now," I looked out the window to see the Welcome to Amber sign attached to the entrance gate of the estate. "Are you home? I want to hang," I told him.
Silence followed my statement, safe for the shuffling in the background, followed by footsteps like Kizito was getting up and leaving where he was.
"I have company," Was his simple reply after what felt like an eternity of silence. And that simple reply was enough to tell me all I needed to know.
Gigi Esho.
The smile on my face wiped off like Mother had slapped me again, the feeling of emptiness and void from earlier returning in ten folds.
"Oh," I muttered.
"You didn't tell me you were coming earlier," Kizito said in his defense. "And mum wanted Gigi to do something for her so she asked her to come over,"
Wow. His mum knows about her.
The fact that they have gotten to that level in their relationship made reality further dawn on me that whatever this thing was between Kizito and Gigi Esho was serious. Very Serious.
I don't think. I have never met Kizito's mum before throughout our four years of friendship. Maybe it's because we hardly hung out at his home, and when he did, his parents were not in town. So the simple fact that Gigi Esho got to meet Kizito's mum before I did stick out like a sore thumb.
Painfully Irritating.
"Alright. I understand," I replied.
Kizito was about to say something when I hung up the phone on him, intentionally. My mood was suddenly a hundred times worse.
"Take me to Greenland Park," I told the driver. I might as well make use of the time that I'm here.
Greenland was the way it always is; Busy and Buzzing. When the car parked in the lot, I threw a hoodie over my head and wore a pair of shades. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to recognize me here and mob me.
I found a bench to sit on, busying myself with my phone. Since Kizito wasn't available to hang out, maybe Hilary would be. She said on the group chat that she was going to see her therapist today. The time was 4:30 pm, so she'd have certainly been done by now.
But when I dialed her number, it was switched off.
Great. Just Great.
Calling Dawn wasn't even in the cards. No matter how much I've tried to engage her, or prove to her that I was changed, she didn't budge on her decision to keep her distance from me, only hanging around me for the sake of Hilary and Kizito. And after all, I witnessed today, it did put me in perspective on what she had gone through... what she might still be going through.
I do think I owe her a real apology.
But how do I apologize to someone that doesn't want me around her?
As much as I didn't want to admit it, I could feel my friends drifting away from me. I could feel Kizito drifting away, slowly from my grasp. They all have someone they rather spend their time with than me, leaving me all on my own.
I've always been lonely, but their presence in my life made me forget. It made the loneliness a lot more bearable and restricted it to the confines of my house. But now, the loneliness was back, deeper and more harrowing than ever.
I needed to do something about it.
I need them, or else I'll go mad.
Exhaling, I turned off my phone and shoved it into the pocket of my jeans, busying myself with looking at the activities going on around me. Every kiosk, shop, and restaurant was packed up. I could feel the game centers booming from where I stood. Everything about this place was lively, even the people.
I guess I'm the only live-less person here.
I came here to distract myself, but I felt like a hazardous component contaminating the excitement and serenity associated with Greenland Park. Leaving was the best thing for me today. Maybe crying, and binge-eating wasn't such a bad idea right now
This is pointless. I told myself, standing up to leave.
But just as I did that, I heard music coming from a distance, followed by loud cheering voices of people. My curiosity piqued and overwhelmed the feeling of loneliness building up in me, and in no time, I was already following the cheerful noise till I came to a big crowd.
I had to push past the crowd to get to the front so that I'd see what was going on, the Afro pop mix getting louder the closer I got to the front. When I finally got there, I realized what was going on.
A Dance Battle.
I removed my shades for a better view.
With a quick scan of my eyes between the groups that were going head to head on the dance floor, I could see familiar faces. Very familiar faces.
The Crestview Dance Team.
And right there in the forefront of the dance, leading the team with an unmatched energy and vigor that was only associated with him on the dance floor...
Collins Odion.
𝐀/𝐍
Ọmọ 💀.
I know I say this a lot in chapters that Natasha Malik makes an appearance, but once again, God forbid a mother like her! Say Amen!
I don't understand how you will willing subject your own daughter to such kind of assault and harassment all in the name of "Models go through it all the time". What the actual flaydoddle?☹️ Semeeha needs to run away from that woman as soon as possible, or else.
Shockingly, one chapter without Semeeha doing something that will piss off everyone. That's progress right? Let's just hope she keeps up the same energy in the next chapter with our baby boo, Collins 🌚.
Update schedule is now once every two weeks. Work choke! So the next chapter will come sometime in the second week of December. If it comes sooner, Hallelujah then.
Till then, you know the drill. Kisses 😘💋.