GET OTHERS TO DO THE WORK FOR YOU


CHAPTER 28 ON PREVIOUS PAGE

STORY SO FAR : After a series of life threatening adventures, Malaozi manages to complete her mission and get Ola over to the reading of his father's will. The powerful residing within the city of Lagos attend to witness who among the 3 children of Ogiuwu will rise to becoming the leader of the most powerful family in Lagos. The reading of the will takes unexpected paths leading to Ola being slapped with a shocking revelation.

CHAPTER 29

Lights came on, turning the darkish room into one of shadows. Exhaustion had finally silenced Ola, a timely chair appearing for him to collapse into. Malaozi tore a strip from her pure white blouse, wrapping it around Ola’s hand to stop the trickle. She faced him but he was blind to her, eyes blank, transparent, unable to see Malaozi’s burst of short lived empathy.

Quick, open palmed and without mercy she struck his cheek; the slap whiplashing his face to trace the shape of a crescent moon. It was the pull cord of a ‘beta pass my neighbor’ generator. Ola sprang to life with a roar, leaping off the chair with outstretched hands aimed at Malaozi’s throat. He didn’t get far. Pointed at his head was a nine millimeter glock, stopping his momentum dead. The speed at which she whipped it out still left him surprised.

“Why do I have a feeling of deja-vu.”

“It is similar to how we met.”

“Right... in the Range. Seems like a lifetime ago. Fierce beast, are you going to hit me with the butt of the gun again?”

She smiled, her hand tightening on the grip.

“Don’t tempt me. What now?”

“Now… I need to find some rocks and a body.”

Malaozi’s eyelids grew close as she tried to make sense of what Ola just said, gun disappearing back into her burgundy jacket. The doors behind opened, the Secretary making her way to them.

“I believe young master finds I was right and you do not regret accepting.”

“How much of what was in that recording are you privy to Secretary?”

“I’m sorry young master, I am not at liberty to say.”

“Then what are you at liberty to say?”

“At this time, nothing. Once certain ‘goals’ are accomplished this might change”

There was a faint but recognizable lilt in the way she uttered ‘goals’. It was not lost on Ola. His arm shot out, grabbing the Secretaries waist and drawing her close.

“You aren’t so simple are you...”

It wasn’t a question. In his arms he could feel there wasn’t even a wisp of a shiver or break in her composure.

“Does young master wish to have me?”

She accompanied the question with a coy smile, a finger reaching up to trace his jaw line.

“What of it?”

Ola said, his arm tightening round her waist. She gave off a scent that calmed his heart and soothed his soul, lulling him into a peace that seemed to be intent on sending him into a zen like state. He shook his head, forcefully beating down that urge to surrender himself to this woman. Being unable to unnerve her irked him. He could tell she knew much more than she was letting on. None but Sir Ogiuwu was privy to her real name. Everyone else knew her as the Secretary. It was more than a title and instead had become a name of sorts. Though never before laying eyes on her, Ola knew of her existence. At least he knew the existence of the Secretary. There was a rumor over the years the title had changed hands many times and the previous holders had become much like their real name.

“Young master flatters me.”

“Spare me your banality. Where is his body?”

In his arms, her weight shifted ever so slightly. It was the first time she had given off anything other than a still lake in a valley untouched by human hands. You are human after all. His arm slacked, releasing her to take a step back from him. Fingers pressed against her white blouse, smoothing out wrinkles that weren't there.

“Young master has relinquished his 15% of the family stake therefore I cannot answer any questions he may wish answered.”

“When can I have you then?”

“What do you mean ‘have her’ you sick fiend.”

Malaozi could no longer keep quiet at what boiled down to buying a woman’s body. Expecting to see a disgusted look in the Secretaries face she was perturbed to find no change in expression, the silver hair pin giving off a muted shine in the dim light.

“When you manage to control more than 50% of the family stake.”

“Is that open to negotiation?”

“Even a saint would become a woman of the night if one can offer the proper incentives.”

“Malaozi let’s go.”
“Just like that? Shouldn’t we try negotiating now?”

“Right now we have nothing to tempt her. But that is only a matter of time.”

“So where to now then?”

“As I said before, to find some rocks and a body.”

Ola looked to the darkened floor to ceiling windows of the room where so much had occurred. Though blocked, his mind could still envision the city beneath them, teeming with the souls of millions struggling for meaning, in buildings of block, cement, wood, tin and sack; on roads of asphalt, gravel, interlocking blocks and dirt. Out of those millions there were a minute few who held the answers he sought. They did not know it but a fiend had tied their destinies to him. This was his city. He had tried to leave it once again but as fate would have it, he would be drawn back into its depths. His back turned, he strode for the exit as he muttered to himself.

“Lagos, are you ready for me…”

Twitter - @just2days

Email - just2day@yahoo.com

Thanks for reading

just2day:


Good catch, though maybe a bit too advanced a tech. Sticking to more available 2d sources. Thanks for commenting

Thanks for the Update bruh..

Ion even know what to say bro.. this is Fuuucking dope!
And it's a rare privilege reading this bruh
More cash to your account

nastynic:


Thanks for the Update bruh..

Ion even know... dope!
...rare privilege ...to your account

Your words are gold. Appreciate the feedback, it truly is motivating when doubt comes a knocking.

CHAPTER 30 OUT ON 24TH OCTOBER

[color=#990000][/color] shei bro you really get me focus you are a great write indeed more inspiration to you from where this come from

nastynic:


It's Hologram

Oh, okay

This story is just wow

Make others come to you. Use bait if necessary

TANGENT :- As Duhu's path takes on new meaning I want to take the next few chapters to touch on the hopefully not forgotten side characters.

CHAPTER 30

Prey stirred from their refuge, boldness coming with the rays of a morning sun. Birds sang their approval of a new dawn, the fresh scent of morning dew sifting through the air. Two, dwarfed by the immensity of the world, lay underneath a canopy of broad leafed trees, foreigners to the Oyo forest’s morning routine. Hastily gathered banana leaves and palm fronds lay strewn on the floor, keeping the dirt off their backs. They clung to each other as one would the last of what is held precious, tendrils of smoke from a smoldering fire nearby framing them. Pale with exhaustion, the boy’s fingers ran through the dada hair of the girl nestled against his chest. Arm sore, he paused, letting it fall to the side and land on a black bag. He waited, breath held. A little over a minute went by and there was no change in the one he held. With a sigh of relief he carefully laid her to rest on the palm fronds and banana leaves.

Reaching into the black bag, he brought out a Gideon bible, its edges frayed from use. A tear fell, splashing on the green cover. He wiped it as best he could with a crumbled up bank note, his own clothes too dirty to do much good. Opening the cover, he began to read a written note. “To my dear Emeka…” Eyes wet again, he could read no further. Within its pages he brought out an aged picture, a corner of it singed. Those were the only two items he thought to grab when they made a hasty return to the village. It had been deathly quiet. Gone were the sounds of running children, and gossiping women preparing the mid day meal. He could not hear the rolling hacking laughter of the old who spent their days drinking the fermented nectar of the palm tree while exaggerating exploits of the past. Soulless, the village had become, bodies displayed in their last acts of life.

Knowing they would need supplies, he walked to the nearest hut. The trail of blood leading into the interior sapped his courage. To rob the dead, he could not bring himself to do so. A voice in the distance further ate away at his resolve. They were coming. He wasn’t sure who but he knew it was unlikely they would be friendly. Quickly he returned to where he had left the girl. She had awoken, her eyes dim. Having no time to think, he grabbed her hand and pulled her deeper into the forest. Together they had created as much distance as they could from the village, the fear of being discovered giving them strength to push on.

“Mom... mom… mom…”

The voice of the girl drew him back to the present. Shivers began to ravage her body, her nightmare vivid. Emeka lifted her, nestling her head against his chest once again as he stroked her hair.

“Tope it’s only a dream…”

He cooed, her body calming down to his touch. It had been like this all night leaving no chance for Emeka to sleep. The few times he had drifted off, he would wake minutes later as the nightmares plagued Tope. He saw one advantage, there was no chance for him to dream. With darkness had come a chill, the fire being their only weapon against it. At the base of the pit, bits of charred naira notes could be seen. They could not stay here long, but he couldn't bear to wake her so soon after all that had happened the day before. As he agonized over his decision, clear eyes opened up to watch him.

“Brother Emeka, I had a… a… a....”

Fingers tightened their hold on his shirt.

“It’s just a dream, don’t think too much about it.”

“But it felt so real!”

“I know... they can be like that sometimes.”

“Don’t leave me brother Emeka like you did in the dream.”

Missing from her deep browns was a wide eyed innocence he was used to seeing. Her simple request settled on his shoulders with the weight of a thousand boulders. In answer, he hugged her tightly.

“Are you ready to go?”

She nodded, rising to her feet, clothes as stained as his.

“Are you hungry?”

Tope’s head shook but her stomach chose that time to betray her. They both hadn’t eaten since the previous morning, the thought of food being far from their minds.

“We’ll head towards the road and find someone to take us to town.”

Hand in hand they walked, the black bag slung over his shoulder, hunger and fatigue dictating their pace. It was not long before the black and grey strip of interstate highway came into view.

“Brother Emeka, look. A car.”

Not to far from where they exited the forest, an old blue Nissan was parked at the side of the road with its hood raised. A man’s head was currently buried in the engine compartment, tools scattered around him. It seemed their luck had changed. As they got closer, vulgar words could be heard with the consistency of a machine gun. Emeka began to think twice about approaching the man. Before he could turn, the vulgar words stopped, the man noticing he wasn’t alone. Grabbing a large wrench close by, he whipped around raising it high in the air only to see two young, hungry, dirty children.

“Wait!”

He could tell they were about to run, his hairy arms held high not the ideal sign of peace.

“I thought you were thieves. What are you doing here alone?”

Tope hid behind Emeka, grabbing firmly to his shirt. The man let the wrench fall to the floor, palms held out in front of him as a wide smile split his face. Emeka felt a strong urge to leave.

“We didn’t have money to pay the conductor so he dropped us in the middle of nowhere.”

The lie came smoothly. It would not be wise to let anyone know the truth behind their predicament.

“Such a cruel world. Where are you going to?”

“To see our uncle in the next town.”

“Ejigbo?”

“Yes.”

Emeka wasn’t sure if that truly was the next town but he couldn’t think of any other answer.

“Both of you shall be my good deed for today. Ejigbo is on the way to Ogbomosho. I’ll happily drop you.”

“But your car isn’t working sir. We will find our own way.”

“Nonsense. It is almost fixed. Just wait under the shade. Here, take some plantain chips.”

From his pocket three bags of plantain chips flew through the air, deftly caught by Emeka. At first he was about to toss them back to the man but a gentle rumble from behind him showed a drooling Tope, all thoughts of leaving promptly dissipating from his mind.

“Thank you sir.”

Tope tore into the chips as soon as Emeka placed it in her hands. It did not take long for her bag to be empty. He quickly opened another.

“What kind of man would I be to watch children go hungry. What is in the bag?”

“Our clothes.”

Emeka’s answer was quick. He had no delusions, an explanation long prepared for the man’s curiosity.

“Good, good, then you two should change while I finish repairing the car.

“It is the clothes we are to wear for our uncles anniversary. We can’t let it get dirty.”

“Very dutiful kids. Well then, the car should be fixed in less than an hour.”

True to his word, the car came rumbling back to life in a little over half an hour, spewing thick black smoke into the air.

“The heavens are smiling on us. Let’s go.”

The man opened the front passenger door for Emeka and Tope to enter. Emeka ignored it, guiding Tope to the back seat.

“We like the back seat sir. So we can stretch well.”

“No problem. I don’t have passengers anyway.”

Getting into the driver's seat, the car slid back onto the interstate highway, its passengers in tow. From his rearview mirror the driver could see Emeka, his arm tightly clutching the black bag he carried. He licked his lips as heavy lidded eyes grew cold.



Twitter - @just2days

Email - just2day@yahoo.com

Thanks for Reading

We've almost forgotten about them

VincenzoZhuxu:
[color=#990000][/color] shei bro you really get me focus you are a great write indeed more inspiration to you from where this come from

Appreciate the kind words. Working hard to live up to them.

queenitee:
This story is just wow... we've almost forgotten about them

Top level commenter. Your enthusiasm is cherished.

lotta books lotta characters to keep track of

gbedu way dey burst brain...

just2day:


Appreciate the kind words. Working hard to live up to them.

you too good bro

More. Can't Ask For Less

LEARN TO KEEP PEOPLE DEPENDANT ON YOU

CHAPTER 31

What he currently felt, he couldn’t describe or maybe his sluggish mind did not want to. The bed he lay in was large and round, situated at the center of the master bedroom. Sliding out of the covers he searched the floor in darkness. He grabbed what he thought were his boxers, quickly putting them on. They did not feel right, the texture and fit being all wrong. As he tried to take it off, he bumped into a piece of furniture, sending whatever was on top to the floor. It did not land quietly. A sharp clap resounded in the large room, the lights coming on, revealing a woman on the bed with her hands together.

“Leave it on.”

The sudden change from dark to light blinded Ekiuwa for a few seconds. Looking down he saw lacy underwear half way up his thigh.

“Please…”

With a quiver in his lips, he beseeched the woman on the bed, an elbow propping her head up. Her face sported slight wrinkles, betraying her age. Much of her body currently lay hidden under sheets of purple, a landscape Ekiuwa had inexpertly explored the night before.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

Her hand reached beneath a pillow, coming out with a riding crop. Ekiuwa’s head shook, his bottom tensing at the sight of the riding crop, its taste still freshly displayed on his skin. It had been a night fraught with lashings, her displeasure conveyed through pain rather than voice. The article of clothing returned, his waist just wide enough for the elastic to hold it in place.

“Good... good... now walk for me.”

Ekiuwa devolved to a baby taking its first step, each one unsure as he worried over how she wanted him to walk for her. He tripped, a pair of black trousers the culprit. As he fell his thoughts returned to the day before when he first met this woman.

Pulling up to a large house in the heart of Ikoyi, he could not hide his nervousness. Mr. Sokoto had called him up that morning. As his brand new phone rang he couldn’t believe the sleek state of the art device was his, the night before alternating between dream and nightmare accompanied with a faint soreness. A thought surfaced, his hand lifting the edge of his mattress revealing an envelope overflowing with thousand naira notes. His shoulders shook, unable to stay calm. He had never seen so much money in one place. It wasn’t even all of it; the rest to be deposited in his account once he opened one. “It is enough” he thought, cutting the call. There was no need for him to mix with those people again. With this he could afford to bring his mother to Lagos. He looked around his room, noting the 5 other bunk beds in the school housing they all shared. Dirty clothes lay scattered around, a few snoring up a storm. The stench of ten guys living in the same space hung heavy in the air. ‘Can’t have mother staying here’ he thought, not that the school would allow it. It was then he realized having the money to bring her to Lagos wasn’t enough. There was a need to find a place for them to stay. The envelope no longer looked as plentiful as it once did. The phone buzzed again, his body snatching it before the first ring ended.

“Don’t ever let this phone’s ring end without you picking it up.”

“Yes mam, I mean sir?”

He’d been expecting the voice of the bleached hair, midnight skinned woman who broke his phone and replaced it with this one as he left. Instead it was Mr. Sokoto.

“You have an appointment this evening. A delivery will be arriving at your door. Don’t screw it up.”

“I have class at…”

The call ended before he could get out even one of his complaints or questions. Mr. Sokoto had given him too little information, leaving him with an avalanche of questions. His fingers tapped the screen to call back but a knock at the door interrupted him. None of the four beds filled with snoring University students stirred.

Opening the door, he saw a boy a little more than half his height. In his hands was what amounted to someone's laundry. Clutched above his head so it wouldn’t drag on the ground was a black suit in a transparent dry cleaning poly bag.

“Sorry kid, no one here owns something that expensive. Try Dangote hall.”

The dorm’s official name wasn’t Dangote hall but due to the students who lived there being made of money, the name grew naturally. From their parking lot alone, one could see they weren’t average students. Toyota’s and Hondas made to park far away from the hall in an unwritten rule.

“I was told to give it to an Ekiuwa.”

His hand lowered an inch, the hem of the trouser getting closer to the dirty floors of Maduka hall. Ekiuwa relieved him of his burden, seeing the boys struggle.

“Are you sure?”

“You also have to take these.”

In his outstretched hand was a car key and a folded piece of paper. Ekiuwa didn’t take them, hesitating.

“Could it be another Ekiuwa?”

“I was told to come here.”

He stretched his hand further for Ekiuwa to take the key and paper.

“How did they know where I live?”

The question was shrugged off by the boy who quickly scampered away after handing the key and folded piece of paper over. Returning to his bed, he lay the suit on the thin mattress. Even to his untrained eye, the material looked luxurious. On the folded piece of paper was an address and time.

“47 willow Lane Ikoyi 4p.m.”

He read while staring at the key. It didn’t have the thin metal protrusion that were present on the few car keys he’d seen. It did have the electronic lock and unlock buttons.

“What is happening in Ikoyi at 4?”

The voice startled Ekiuwa. On one of the upper bunks, its occupant was no longer snoring.

“Go back to bed Kola.”

“Stingy. Golden boy get party, skipping class, no wan carry boys.”

“It’s not a party.”

“Where you steal suit from?”

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“With your one pair of jeans how can you buy suit.”

“Someone gave me.”

“If police come here no expect me join your matta.”

“I said I didn’t steal it.”

“I hear. Bring something com for boys sha.”

With that he buried his head underneath his pillow, his snores soon joining the others. Relieved, Ekiuwa folded the suit as carefully as he could and put it in his pillowcase to avoid any more questions from his other roommates.

With a pillowcase in one hand and a key in the other, Ekiuwa exited Maduka hall. There were very few cars parked here. Not a surprise considering the financial situation of those who ended up living in Maduka. Their few parking spots were usually filled by those whose halls ran out of space. Scanning the parking lot, he saw a couple Toyotas, a few Kias, one expensive Audi that looked out of place and a Honda City that was very similar to the one he had driven on that fateful night.

Standing in front of the Honda City door, he tried to slide the key into the lock unsuccessfully. Only then did he remember the key had no blade to stick in. Glancing at the symbols he spotted the electronic button that should unlock the door. Pressing it, he tried the handle with no success. After a few more tries he pressed the other buttons till there was only one he hadn’t tried. It was red, much different from the other three that were black in color. With nothing left to lose he tapped it hard. Behind him an alarm came to life. Over and over it blared, a grating sound that spread for miles, a few students attention pulled to it. Staring at the Audi, its lights flashing, Taking a step back, Ekiuwa pointed the key at it and pressed the unlock button. Its tantrum ended, doors unlocking with a click.

The large iron gate swung open letting him in. The size of the compound was nowhere near that of the mansion he had previously been to. Also different was the Absence of the ruthless gun toting personnel, a point he was grateful for. He parked in front of the main door, his arrival time a few minutes before 4 p.m. The note he found within the car had stressed punctuality as well as a few other points. One was for him to obey and to speak sparingly. He had found it a strange requirement. “How much is sparingly…” he thought.

Getting out the car he waited. At exactly 4 the house door opened revealing a woman in a long blue dress. It shimmered, ripples in a flowing river with two large rounded waterfalls. Around her neck, white pearls crested her exposed collar bone, matching those on her ears. Ekiuwa was unable to appreciate the tasteful combination, his eyes drawn to her facial appearance. Even with the heavy makeup she wore, he could tell she was more than twice his age, three times being an estimate he might bet on. Old enough to be his mother, was an understatement. He had the urge to call her grandma, one he wisely kept to himself.

“This is when you open the door.”

Her voice brought him out of his daze. It did not adopt the tone of a sweet old granny, instead it was full of zest, life and kindness.

“I’m sorry gra… mam.”

He caught himself, running to the passenger side to open the door.

“I’ll be sitting beside you and call me Miss. Mam makes me feel old.”

He wanted to shout ‘you are old!’, but the kind way she talked to him helped with resisting the temptation.

“Yes Miss. I’ll be glad to.”


“That is more like it. The suit looks good. You could use more muscle.”

Ekiuwa looked at his physique. He’d never thought much of his lean build. His village had been full of men who took pride in their protruding bellies. This was an idea he was reassessing as his experience in this multifaceted city reached greater heights. Racing back to the driver seat, he put the car in gear, pulling out of the compound.

Holding the door open for her felt more natural the second time around. They were parked in front of an over decorated hall in a part of Lagos he had never been in. Then again most of Lagos remained unvisited to Ekiuwa.

“Your hand.”

It was a strange request but he held his hand out to her.

“Thumb and index finger up.”

With her hand she patiently maneuvered his into the proper position before grasping it; stepping out of the car.

“I’m sorry Miss.”

“It’s fine. I was already told this is your first time.”

She smiled, a disarming action that put Ekiuwa at ease.

“Thank you Miss. What now?”

“You give me your arm and walk me in. Don’t forget to hold doors and pull out my chair.”

“Yes Miss.”

His nervousness dropped a level as Miss treated him with surprising kindness. They found their way to their seats without a hitch, his chair pull unnecessary thanks to a waiter who seemed to be there to solely attend to Miss’s needs. The hall’s interior was expensively decorated; chandeliers, ice sculptures and exotic flowers everywhere he looked. That was nothing compared to the food. The aromas floating by his nose reminded him he’d had nothing to eat all day. Platters of delicacies were presented to him and each time Ekiuwa declined. He didn’t want to but the note within the car had written it out in bold letters ‘NO EATING’. Keeping his salivating mouth in check was becoming a chore, stomach quietly growling. Hunger wasn’t a new experience so he had plenty of practice keeping his stomach growls to a quiet rumble. His eyes though were not trained to look away from such deliciousness.

“It’s alright for you to eat something.”

Miss had been watching him and couldn’t help but admire his resolve. The look in his eye was a dead giveaway he was hungry. Having to say ‘no’ each time food was brought to him must have been torture. The gratitude in Ekiuwa’s eyes shone brightly as he nodded his head to the next waiter who offered him food. He didn’t even bother looking at what it was, digging in almost immediately after the plate was set down.

“Here drink this.”

He took the champagne glass from her hand, tipping it down his gullet before he remembered what happened last time he drank something handed to him by a woman. Noticing the change in Ekiuwa’s expression, Miss laughed, grabbing a flute as well, drinking from it. Her actions calmed him down a little, the bubbly doing the rest. He quite liked the taste, his hand grabbing another glass. There were plenty on the table only he and Miss shared. The note had said nothing about drinks.

As the hours flew by, many came to the table to meet with Miss. Each treated differently by her but all without fail, entered her presence with humility. Ekiuwa wasn’t given a second glance, relegated to a position much like the flowers on the table. He didn’t mind, knowing he would have nothing to say anyway.

“I’m ready to leave.”

“Yes Miss.”

The drive home was quiet, the glasses of champagne warming Ekiuwa’s stomach. Unknown to him, he was developing a relationship with that particular drink.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes Miss. Thank you for letting me eat.”

“Nonsense. I always thought that was a silly rule. What is your name?”

“Ekiuwa… Miss.”

“That name won’t do.”

“Won’t do?”

They had reached the front of her home.

“From now on you’ll be called Boy Karu. Or maybe just Karu.

“Yes miss.”

He wasn't sure he could say anything else. Could she really just change the name his mother gave him. It sounded ridiculous.

“My door.”

He got out the car and held the door open for her as well as his hand.

“Well done, there is hope for you yet Karu.”

Helping Miss make her way to the house door, he couldn’t help but think the day had not gone as expected. He hadn’t been sure what would happen considering his first ordeal but it turned out to be quite pleasant. Or it could be the glasses of champagne giving him a fuzzy feeling.

“What are you doing standing there, come in.”

Ekiuwa couldn’t help but turn, looking for who she was talking to. There was no one else but him.

“This Misstress is telling you to come in!”

Evaporated, the kindness in her tone. Replaced with iron, brittle and unyielding. Her eyes locked onto Karu, a beast about to eat its young. His heart beat an uneven tempo, the nervousness that had been on the decrease exploding.

“Miss, I think it is time for me to go home.”

“This mistress will tell you when you go home. Or do you want to continue your sorry existence unable to afford to bring your loved one to a better life.”

Her words shook him. ‘How does she know.’ he thought, his mind filled with images of his mother enduring the harshness of a life as the foreign youngest wife.

“Yes Miss.”

“Call me Mistress.”

The last words heard before the door closed behind him.

Twitter - @just2days

E-mail - just2day@yahoo.com

Thanks for reading

This Must Be Duhu's Father Story. How He Became What He Turned Out To Be I Guess. Good Job Bro

donteanz:
This Must Be Duhu's Father Story. How He Became What He Turned Out To Be I Guess. Good Job Bro

let hear from the writer himself

VincenzoZhuxu:
let hear from the writer himself

I Was Only Airing The Thought That Came After Reading. Didn't Mean No Harm

donteanz:

I Was Only Airing The Thought That Came After Reading. Didn't Mean No Harm

you are my man ok it is notlike i'm angry oya continue bruh

Hmmm, everything is hidden nitoto

Update Update Update