Omoh, you people have tried sha. I'm sorry, I always tell myself I will not delay on updates, but it keeps happening. E go be. I will keep trying to keep updates steady, but this thing is not in my control anymore. My life is now too unpredictable. (Insert smiling tear drop emoji)

Nonetheless, following the last chapter, I wanted to hear your thoughts on what is going on, and how much you rely on Dabi's narrative enough to be certain that Chika is the villain. I want to hear all of it. And, please, no fights in the comments. Healthy debates, only. Thank youuu.☺️👍🏾

Okay, so um, I love the song attached to this chapter though, because it really reflects this chapter so well omghasaahagaarfstss! The video is up there, and just as the name of the chapter, its called 'Living Hell' by Bella Poarch. Enjoy! I think you will get the gist of the song choice as you proceed to read this chapter. Hehe. 😂

Now, let's get into this one without more waste of time. We good? Good? Good.

~ACHA~
{A.k.a Daddy}

Right there, in the pile of broken furniture and scattered clothes, I caught a glimpse of that familiar looking pyjama trouser, that belonged to the boozed, drunk fellow who laid beneath the pile, slurring curses and the names of two people, over and over again.

Acha...

And fucking Dabeluchi.

Acha...

And stupid Dabeluchi.

Acha...

And dead Dabeluchi.

Over and over again, the names repeated.

However, that glass of Vodka in his hands never left the register of my eyes, as I analyzed who it was, in that pile, slurring my name and the name of my girlfriend, whom, in even in his state of drunkenness, wished death upon;

Sean Ayomide.

Fuck.

It all made more sense now. It was as though the moment that my eyes had caught sight of him, in the state he was in, watching the raw vileness in those dark, drunken eyes of his', the primal resentment, absolutely barbaric abhorrence that rolled out with his words when he said Dabeluchi's name, it all made sense to me.

He pronounced the name of the girl I loved as if it were raw vinegar in his mouth.

I could only watch him in my silence, thinking about how devious he had to become, how much evil he had to let take over him, to decide that he wanted to hurt my girlfriend. There was never any reason I had, in the past, to be this particularly angry with Sean.

However, as I heard him swear profanities on Dabeluchi's name, wishing something as sinister as death on her; as I started putting two and two together, starting from the accident that happened with Gadhafi to everything Kelechi had told me about the entire plot originally being a weapon fashioned against my Aurora, that was about to change. 

Needless to say, I felt nothing...

Nothing but a loathing, scathing resentment for Sean Ayomide.

I couldn't believe I could hate him this much. Shit, I didn't even know that I could have it in me to hate him this much. But, fuck it,  as I stood there watching him, what I felt was too dark, too deranged a feeling to call it 'hate'; the only thing on my mind was to reach out towards him, grab onto his shirt and smash my fists into it, over and over and over again, until I was goddamn satisfied. Until his blood and skin were drenched over my knuckles, and that sickening urge of resentment within me was fucking pacified.

However, Kelechi Uwa had more compassionate intentions.

"Good Lord! Sean, are you alright?" She literally sprinted in alarm from my side, zapping towards the seemingly semi-conscious kid in the pile. "Sean? Sean! My word! What happened to you?!"

She was hysterical, I had never seen a girl as elegant as Kelechi be so frantic. The tall girl literally fell to the ground to help Sean, gentle hands grabbing onto him, holding onto the sides of his face in a bid to make him look into her eyes.

Even in her state of alertness, she was handling him so tenderly, cupping his face with her tiny hands as though he were her child; all the way an empathic look was lingering in her eyes as she tried to follow the lost and very wandering gaze in his' that almost resembled hers.

"Talk to me. Did someone do this to you?" Her soft tone of voice shook with obvious fright as she spoke, "Look at me, Sean! Were you harmed by anyone? Who did this to you, Sean? Please, try to open your eyes properly and communicate with me!"

I fought the strong urge to face palm.

She was so innocent. Too innocent. You had to be at peak innocence to make a mountain out of such a mole hill.

"Kelechi."

There was no guarantee that she heard me. Not when her major concern was on Sean whom she 'supposed' was currently 'dying'.

"Kelechi, relax, he's just drunk."

Her hands were still frantically stroking everywhere around Sean's face and neck when I spoke and instantly cut off, she whipped her head my way with a torn look of confusion registered on her dark, pretty face.

"Pardon?"

"He's not dying, Kelechi, calm down."

Her stare on me was still left incredulous.

"Sean is drunk," I elaborated further, "Bro is not dying, he's just had a lot to drink tonight, forgetting that his alcohol tolerance is absolute shit."

"Well, then, what are you still doing standing there?" She fired back at me, that worried edge in her voice still not fading one bit, "Let's help him! Go and get some water while I look after him here, Marcus!"

"On it, boss." I said, grabbing one of the paper cups on the cupboards and walking towards the corner of the room to get to the dispenser.

I would be the worst liar on earth if I said that there was not a single part of me that felt some empathy seeing Sean so wasted after probably drowning his self loath and raging bitterness with multiple bottles of Vodka.

"Stupid idiot." I cussed under my breath as I watched the water fill the paper cup.

The asshole could have killed himself.

I hated that part of me that felt pity for him, even though the larger part of me was vengeful and angry at him. I failed to understand my conflicting emotions, I was in a damned paradoxical situation, and maybe I was the one who was the stupid idiot.

"Tch. Take, abeg." I said, grudgingly handing the cup of water over to Kelechi.

It was a real miracle how I won against the urge to throw the cup's contents onto Sean's useless face.

Meanwhile, Kelechi nearly drowned the water down his throat like a desperate, dread-filled Mum.

And, Sean was like a baby, gulping down the water in an attempt to match her speed, swallowing every drop.

I had never seen him drink water so desperately either. His hands wrapped so urgently around Kelechi's hands, like he was terrified to let her hands leave his own. Like that little form of care she was giving him was something he wanted to hold onto as tightly as possible, like his whole entire life depended on it.

I hated how watching the both of them seemed to soften me up a little.

Truth be told, I had every right to kick Sean in the face with my shoes. Not feeling this bullshit 'sympathy' for him.

"Thank you."

He said to Kelechi, softly wiping with his right hand against the corner of his mouth after she was done feeding him water.

That was when I noticed the scratchiness and hoarseness in his voice when he spoke.

Sean had a sore throat.

This, I found odd and very slightly disturbing. Especially since I knew that we had interacted earlier when he arrived the party, and his voice seemed perfectly fine and without a scratch. So, how he suddenly seemed to lose half his voice in such short notice was unclear to me.

However, that wasn't even what puzzled me the most... It was the fact that Sean still hadn't left Kelechi's hands alone.

His hands remained latched around hers; a terrifying softness lingered in his eyes, as he had her hand in a tight hold. The same eyes that seemed to be begging so desperately for her to not let go of him. His hands were wrapped so tightly around hers that I could see the blood seize in that part of Kelechi's wrists.

It was ironic, however, how his hold seemed so iron-strong, but the look in his eyes showed weakness. Desperation. And, helplessness.

Kelechi, observing this, didn't let go.

She was probably in pain, but for some reason, she still didn't let go from his hold.

Not until he breathed out a heavy sigh and let go of her first.

"Do you feel better, Sean?" She asked.

He sat there quietly, chest heaving in and out as he stared blankly at nothing , and left to me, Kelechi was talking to a brick wall.

The guy was fucking impenetrable. No emotion, no fucking hint of it, lingered in those ghostly-dead eyes of his'.

"Do you?" Kelechi probed nonetheless.

The girl was relentlessly determined. And, well, bold too.

"You know, talking about things can make you feel better," she said to him, despite his silence. It made me wonder how farther she had to go until he showed it clearly that she was pestering the life out of him. "So? Tell me?How do you feel tonight, Sean? Good?"

"Kels, he won't talk, just leave him alone.–"

"No."

I shut up, dumbfounded at Sean's voice cutting me off as he answered Kelechi.

Her eyes lit with surprise on hearing his answer. "No?"

Sean did not repeat himself a second time.

However, there was the most subtle hint of trust in his eyes, very little in that blank stare. He didn't speak again, but instead, he shook his head, indicating his first answer clearly again – No.

"Share?" Kelechi continued pushing it, even though tenderly, tilting her head to stare at him as she followed his vacant, but dangerous stare. "Do you want to share, with me, what makes you feel this way, Sean?"

Kelechi's tone of voice was warm. So warm. It could melt the coldest of hearts.

Sean was sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the wall behind him, his brooding, lazy stare hovering darkly over a halo-wearing Angel like Kelechi Uwa. It was a mind-blowing contrast between light and darkness. Still, she stayed kneeling in front of him, filled with compassion and unafraid of the diabolical spurn of Satan she was trying to soften up.

"Sean," she called him again, making an even bolder move to reach her hands onto his face, caressing her fingers against his cheeks.

That singular action stunned him a bit, the subtle twitching of his eyelids proved that.

Kelechi didn't stop stroking against his hair, his face, not until she felt a tear drop land on her thumb.

It shocked me.

And shocked her too.

How Sean effortless just shed a tear, with the most emotionless expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Sean?" She asked again, her voice softer with sympathy.

He adjusted himself slightly, making himself sit more upright against the wall before his very vague, very random answer came out.

"My body is paining me."

I frowned, confused. However, Kelechi didn't budge. Her eyes remained steady on him, her demeanor, patient.

"Yes?" She said uncomplaining, "Can you tell me, Sean, exactly where it hurts?"

Their gazes were tied when he nodded, like he was under a spell.

"Where?" Kelechi further probed, "Where does it hurt?"

Sean reached out with his hands and touched the sides of his head.

"Here," he answered, pressing his fingers into his temples, "It hurts here, Kelechi."

She nodded even more patiently, placing a gentle hand to the sides of his head and massaging his temples, gently.

"That is a migraine, Sean," Kelechi told him, "It means you are not resting well. You need to get a better sleep schedule and get rid of unnecessary stressful factors. You are too young to be having migraines, it only shows that you are very stressed out and—"

"— and here," he grabbed her hand and transferred it from the side of her head to the left side of his chest.

Once again, I felt a whiplash.

Kelechi seemed to freeze over slightly, her lids flickering with the sudden switch up.

"It hurts here too, Kelechi," Sean said, pressing her hand harder onto his chest, his breathing deepening as he tried to elaborate. "It's excruciatingly painful... Will I die, Kelechi?"

"You won't die in Jesus name." She answered.

He shook his head, unconvinced. "When I die, I know I will go to Hell—"

"—Sean Ayomide, nobody is going to Hell." Kelechi said, her tone reprimanding.

"I don't know if I can survive pain like this." he said, his chest heaving with her hands firmly pressed against it by his own hands.

"You can survive anything," She said to him, an edge in her tone, "No situation is that powerful over you to take your life, for God's sake. Do you understand that?"

He was reluctant at first, but Sean nodded his head.

On cue, Kelechi turned to look at me. Her stare made it clear to me that she was starting to understand what was happening; she may have been a physically slow person, but her brain was quick. I could tell she understood the tension in the room between me and Sean, and completely coded in her understanding what all this was about.

However, Sean had not even spared me even a second's worth glance.

Since the very second that me and Kelechi walked into this room, my best friend had not even looked once in my direction.

And, while that was supposed to have me bothered, the deep realization that the person who was once closest to me was the same person trying to cause me the most havoc over a fall out, rubbed me off all the guilt that I had been feeling for the past weeks.

Kelechi sighed, attempting to rise to her feet. That simple action was enough to send Sean into a state of abrupt emergency. I was shocked truly, utterly mortified at the speed in which his hands wrapped around Kelechi, the desperation and plea in his eyes as he restrained her from leaving.

"Sean—"

"No, Kelechi, don't go na," He said, an uncomfortable desperation lingering in his scratchy voice.

"Hey, Sean," she said, trying to disguise the evident shock from his action. "Sean, I'm still around, Sean. I just want to—"

"I don't care, I hate this party," he cried out, his voice shaking as he still refused to leave her.

"The party was over three hours ago, Sean," she tried explaining, "It's almost 3am and all our classmates are spread out in the guest rooms for the sleepovers."

"Please," he whined, holding her tighter. He sounded like he was dying, the fear and pain in his eyes as he begged her. "Please, don't go, Kelechi, I like you."

She sighed, squatted in front of him with an empathic look on her face.

"Thank you for liking me, and I like you too, Sean, but believe me, the last thing you want to do is keep yourself in this toxic circle of attachment. You have to let me go, you will be fine, Sean. Take my word for it." She said to him, breaking her words down like he were a struggling child.

"I don't want to be in the same space with him." Sean said, throwing me into the conversation out of the blue.

Woah.

It caught me off-guard, really. I wasn't sure what about it specifically did. Maybe it was the way that he switched up from a helpless and weak demeanor when begging for Kelechi to stay, to a dark and sinisterly-brooding rage the second that he pulled me into the conversation. It was like a transformation of a fragile puppy to a vile wolf.

All done in the space of a nano-second.

Either this guy hated me too much. Or he was just straight up possessed.

Whatever the case may have been, Sean Ayomide needed a damn Oscar for such a performance.

Especially since the moment we had gotten here, he had done very well to look past me, through me, above me, beside me, and everywhere, but at me, skillfully ignoring my entire existence like I was a ghost — completely dead to him.

And, then, out of nowhere, he throws a stray bullet my way, with so much venom and resentment in his tone.

Kelechi stood up again, her look transferring between me and him. She had an expression on her face that made me know that she had come to a final decision. I only knew what it was when she opened her mouth to voice it out.

"I think I should leave you two alone."

Truth be told, I wasn't sure how that made me feel. Nervous? Angry? I couldn't pin down my emotions. Couldn't trace it down to the roots.

Nonetheless, without a second word, Kelechi Uwa left the room.

Leaving me and Sean alone in it.

There was a dead silence after she left.

In fact, it was one too loud to be even be classified as silence. The quietness in the room was so otherworldly, so eerie. Like the feeling of dwelling in the deep darkness and silence of a graveyard.

It filled the room that contained me and Sean. And like it had life in it, it moved like around the room broodingly, erupting chills and raising the hairs on my goddamn skin, swerving sinisterly around me like an evil spirit.

A spirit so menacing and deadly powerful that it seemed to turn what should have been seconds into decades.

Yeah, that was what it felt like. Decades. The longer I stood there, a few feet proximity away from a quiet Sean, who sat there on the floor with the most glowering stare hovering over the nothingness in the air, the more my legs felt tired.

I knew him, the guy was too stubborn. We would stand here till the sun came up and he would not break character.

If something was going to happen, it would be because I made the first move.

It pissed me off, however, considering the brewing feeling of anger that I was felling for him already. Nonetheless, I surprised myself by walking over to his direction, ignoring the fact that he was refusing to acknowledge my existence, and sat right next to Sean on the floor.

Shockingly... He didn't move away.

It surprised me, to be honest. I knew Sean, again, and he could be extremely petty and childish if he wanted to. Vaguely, I remembered during the early days of our misunderstanding, when I took a seat next to him, and he stood up to change seats. I half expected him to behave that way again. However, the fact that he didn't raised question marks in my head.

Was I really that invisible to him?

Or, could it be — exploring the wildest possibilities my imagination could cook up — that maybe, just maybe, Sean was considering loosening up and warming up to the thought of having me as a friend again?

I could just have been delulu to be honest. Maybe, just maybe, he was just too intoxicated to bring himself to react the way he would have truly wanted to.

On that note, I looked to the dozen little bottles and scattered shot cups that were littered all over the scattered pile of clothes on the ground.

"How much have you had to drink?"

I asked Sean.

The boy sat there next to me and didn't budge. Figures. I should have known that attempting to stir up conversation with him was going to be a fucking waste of time.

But, why did I still continue? Only God knows.

"Look, bro, I know you probably feel it's none of my business and all, but I hate to break it to you, it kinda is—"

"— I am not your bro." Sean deadpanned.

"Right." I nodded, swallowing back both the rest of my words.

And, the words that I wanted to bite back at him as well.

"Look, Sean, if you don't want to talk to me, I'll leave," I calmly told him. "All these attitude is really unnecessary, especially when all I am trying to do is look out for you, so you don't kill yourself on top of alcohol."

"But, then, why the fuck would would that any of your concern, brah?" He side eyed me, scoffing humorlessly, "Because you care, Acha?"

I needed no saint to help me pick up the sarcasm in his tone, the sickened laughter that rolled out after his words made me even more uncomfortable.

"Tch." He sucked in his teeth, dismissing the look off me from the side of his shoulder. "Piss off abeg."

"I am not going to piss off." I told him.

The nigga didn't even answer me again.

I felt a slight pain deep there in my chest, having watch how much we were burning and disintegrating our relationship into ugly specks of nothing.

Sean hated me so much.

And, gradually, the feeling was becoming mutual.

It didn't seem to affect him the way that it was affecting me, however, and right there in my silent mourn of our friendship, he reached out to grab one of the Vodka bottles that, unknown to me, still had something in it.

I watched him drench that stinging liquid down his throat, cringing strongly.

Fuck, it looked so out of character on him. Sean didn't even drink. He seldom ever did. One outstanding quality about Sean had always been this odd discipline he seemed to have; he was never that kind of kid who gave into the peer pressure of drinking or smoking, taking drugs, or even having sex. He was oddly grounded, and yes, it may have been a contradictory quality to the standoffish and rugged personality he had, but that is how it had always been.

Since our childhood.

That's how Sean has always been.

So, indeed, it was incredibly odd to watch him become an alcoholic overnight.

Fed up and frustrated, I snatched that thing away from him, flinging the small bottle across the room in anger.

He didn't even struggle or fight with me. I just watched how his gaze, in a bore, travelled along with the flying bottle, watching it splatter onto the ground and spread out into tiny pieces of broken glass, all its contents spilled on the floor.

"See eh," I told him, my tone warning. "Hate me all you want, but I am not going to be put in a position where I have to start writing multiple apology letters to your mother, because I let you get yourself stupid drunk at a party in my house, Sean."

"Bold of you to assume she knows I'm even here," He replied, scoffing humorlessly. "Mumsi would push the both of us onto train rails if she even found out that I was in a party you hosted, and when we die, brah, the witch would blow dust off her nails while sipping a glass of martini on our damned coffins."

I laughed.

I couldn't believe that I could even laugh in a situation like this, but I did laugh, because I got a clear understanding of what he meant and just how rugged that woman could be.

What surprised me even, however, was when Sean laughed too.

It took me off guard, I wouldn't even lie, but I heard his voice underneath mine, his laughter rising with mine softly and very subtly. And, that really surprised me, because after everything that happened, the last thing that I expected was to sit here with Sean and have him laugh with me.

Or me, with him.

He was actually laughing...

Sean looked so harmless when he laughed.

And, again, I hated to be so soft, but for what seemed like the fraction of a second, I actually imagined for myself what it would have been like for me and Sean to be best friends again.

"You get balls sha. Going against your Mum's back every time." I said to him.

It was a reoccurring mistake Sean made and never learnt from. She always found out, and the consequences were always too brutal, even for Sean.

Yet, he seemed to care little. Or none at all.

The boy's level of impassiveness was a course that needed to be studied in Harvard, because I could not bring myself to understand why he chose to go back into fire over and over and over again. He really didn't need to be here at the party last night, and I wondered why coming here was so important for him that he didn't mind crossing his almost psycho mother.

"Acha, you should know by now that I am used to that woman," he said, reminding me.

True...

"And, besides," He continued; it seemed like he had dropped a temperature in the atmosphere when his voice suddenly edged with that subtle, sick smile that was creeping slowly onto his dark face, "I had my reasons for showing my ugly face here at the Christmas party last night, Acha. I had other scores to settle."

There was a knot in my throat in that instant. It expanded painfully.

The thoughts of Gadhafi falling off those stairs after taking in that glass of Vodka last night started to replay over and over in my head, and Kelechi's words concerning the matter, her elaborating to me that the glass was not even for me, but for Dabeluchi, played alongside with the awful, traumatizing memory.

The hatred that had been brewing for Sean started to get thicker, building up faster, as I watched him with a glare, waiting for him to complete his statement and elaborate what the fuck he meant by what he just said. For him to go right ahead to confirm my fucking suspicions.

Sean turned to me, that manic smile in his dark-lined eyes as he revealed to me;

"I had a little chat with your girl, Aurora, last night."

A snake crawled through the marrow of my bones, sliding through my spine.

I raised a brow at him, afraid I didn't hear correctly. "Excuse me?"

"I talked with your girlfriend, brah," he repeated himself again. "She hit me up, said she wanted to talk, I gave her a location, she was there in less than two seconds."

Nah, he had to be lying.

Sean had to be lying.

I had been with Dabeluchi the whole of the night, there was no way I could bring myself to fathom what time she could have had any chance to talk to Sean.

"Goddamit. Does that girl ever tell you anything?" he said, with a scoff.

I was too confused to even get offended by what he said. Instead, I needed to understand how it could have been possible that Dabeluchi met with Sean, and she didn't tell me about this.

"We met at the backyard pool," He told me.

And, while I moped at him, perplexed, he went on ahead to reveal the rest to me.

"And, we finished our conversation on the roof top."

"When the fuck did all these happen?" I asked.

"Not long after I arrived at the party," he answered easily, "Apparently, she felt she was important enough to be the one missing element we needed to fix our 'broken' friendship," He laughed, the sicko actually laughed like the thought was the most amusing thing he had ever heard. Full on laughter that crinkled his eyes so hard and brought out the most berserk and maniacal cackles out of his mouth.

I watched him laugh like he had gone insane.

Throwing his head back at the wall behind us and banging against it harder every second that he practically howled even louder, hands slapping against his thighs and the tiles on the ground in hysterics.

He was laughing like a mad man.

It took less than two seconds for that laughter to start looking abnormal.

Nevertheless, I didn't stop him until he was done. Neither did I say a word in interference. I let him fully display that psychopath in him until he was satisfied, and when he was done, the last bits of laughter coming off him in strangled whimpers, only then did I open my mouth to speak.

"You know what I truly find funny though?"

I asked Sean.

He looked at me, eyes still teary from his insane laughing as he asked me, "Yeah?"

"How you arrived here at the party, playing around and popping champagnes with the same Kaniru's boys who you tried to give Diarrhea a month ago," I told him.

"Abeg," He dismissed with a wave of his hands. "That was just a little, harmless prank. I just wanted to have my vengeance on them, so I pulled that little stunt. Didn't mean anything severe or anything."

"Of course," I scoffed, my laugh dry and bitter. "That was until you started poisoning Vodkas, right?"

His face dropped in an instant, the smile rubbing off it with the speed of light.

"Brah?" he looked at me, a puzzled and lost expression on his face.

I rolled my eyes, irritated by his obviously fake feign of obliviousness.

"Goddamit, Sean, I know it was you."

Sean moped at me, the different stages of brief flashing though his facial expressions: from the initial confusion and shock to denial, and with the way that his eyes seemed to narrow in on me carefully, his irises moving carefully with mine as he seemed to unfold new sections of my accusation in my his head, I could tell he was very close to the stage of realization, and possibly, anger.

It amused me, nonetheless.

"Oh, are you shocked that I figured it out?" I asked, chuckling dangerously.

Sean seemed to hit his realization first, that knowing that I was certain and sure about my accusation of him, and there was nothing he could say in denial. The corner of his lips twitched slightly and the resolve in his entire body language confirmed it for me. Leaning his back against the wall, zeroing back into space, and folding his arms, the boy just stayed silent and let me speak my mind.

Absorbing all the info in eerie quietness.

"You are a wicked demon, Ayomide," I said to him.

He raised a brow, arching it like a sharp edged boomerang as the first insult dropped.

It didn't help that addressing him by his last name normally got him worked up and I knew that, but, fuck, I didn't care.

"You really are a piece of shit, my guy," I continued, letting the words fly out of my mouth without a damned filter, "It just amazes me how fucking low you could go because of the bridge between us, and I mean, I knew that you were a fucking petty human being, but I never thought that you could be this vile, this disgusting, this diabolical. You are not a witch, Sean, you are the entire witchcraft. Do you fucking grab?"

He grabbed perfectly. Didn't have to voice it out for me to get that, and I was glad he wasn't cutting me off, because I was not even done yet.

"We had a fight, Sean, and I swear I understood every bit of your anger and why you had every fucking right to feel that way," I said to him, getting all the more triggered, "I fucked up. Badly. I shouldn't have neglected you in the first place, and I should not have neglected a big day like that for you. And, that ruined me for weeks, Sean. I went to bed every fucking night thinking that I was the worst human being in the world, because I was not there for my best friend on the most important day of his life. It gutted me to think about how it would have been for you, out there, trying to fight for your dreams and goals and the one person who is supposed to be there as your wing man went MIA. I knew that you had every right to fucking cut me off from your life, if you wanted to. —"

I stopped, not just because of the guilt that always found a way to come back and slash me like a pointy mouthed dagger, but because I noticed his clenched jaw bone, an indication that I was rekindling the anger that he had inside of him.

So, I stopped, absolutely fucking exhausted.

"— But, guy, I have apologized over and over," I said, sighing as the tiredness roped more into me, "You made yourself a fucking ghost, but I tried to reach out as much as I could. I understand that we can't take shit back, but what else can I fucking do? You're my guy, we've been tight since childhood, and I fucked up, the most I can do is try to fix things and God knows, I did.

You know I did, Sean. This past month, I have seen hell on earth trying to get you to forgive me. I've fucking suffered trying. And see, I understand that I am not entitled to your forgiveness, but why the fuck can't you just cut me off and let me be? If you wanted to delete me from your life, it's all within your rights, but why, just why would you rather decide to embed yourself like a rusted iron thorn in my flesh and torture me, Sean?"

Nothing. My guy said absolutely nothing.

"And, then, after making yourself unreachable, you decide to show up to my house for what," I said, turning to look at him with bloodshot eyes, "To poison my girlfriend with a glass of Vodka, Sean?"

His gaze broke from the air, falling down onto the tiles as an unreadable expression dominated his face.

"Gadhafi has been in the Hospital for hours, since yesterday," I said, "And, there is no news on any progress so far. My Mum has told me nothing. Somebody's son is there, fighting for his life in the Town Hospital, because of you. We don't even know what his current state is, and that was what you wished for Dabi? You hated her so much, forgetting that she is my world, and planned to take the very thing that I have learned to love away from me, as if I haven't been through enough? I didn't hurt you on purpose, but you wanted to do just that to me, and for what? What point were you trying to prove?"

He still didn't answer.

"You are a wicked person," I said, pained. "And, I swear to God, if anything happened to Aurora because of you, Sean," the laughter that left me was borderline psychotic, with bitterness laced into it like sultry seasoning, "do you sincerely think that you would have been sitting here with me today, having this conversation?"

He looked at me again, mute, but his eyes void of anything that could have hinted out to me that my threat made him give a fuck.

"I don't know whether you people think I am bluffing when I say that I could kill for my Aurora."

Sean barely looked fazed, and with that blankness in his pupils, his gaze remained on me.

I stared back at him, mine challenging.

He stared.

I stared.

He stared.

I stared.

"Blgkhukgh!—"

Out came a chuckle from Sean, a laugh so restrained, like he had been using all the entire strength in his body to hold that laugh in, the whole entire time.

I felt a screw detach from my head, my ears ringing.

"Are you laughing?" I asked him.

He covered his mouth with a hand, his cold chuckle sending chills spreading around my back.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?" I asked him.

"Because I am intrigued and fascinated by this 'movie'," he answered, amusement in his tone, as he indirectly just referred to me as a 'show'. He actually laughed again, sitting up straight as she used his fingers to count while speaking, "So, number one, let's see, I came to this party because I had diabolical intentions, because I am a wicked demon and of course, witchcraft in its entirety.—"

It shocked me how precisely he had been listening, for someone whose face retained that aloofness and unbotheredness from the beginning to the end.

"—And, number two, my big 'tada' was putting poison in a random glass of Vodka that, somehow, for some reason, was supposed to get to your babe and potentially, kill her," he continued, "I am genuinely curious, Acha, to know exactly what I did next."

He found it funny.

Very funny.

Or at least, that was the way he was trying to make it seem.

"Don't you dare," I said to Sean, refusing to budge from the 'drama' he was displaying, "Sean, I have thought this true enough to be certain that I am not making a mistake, and you are not that smart. Do not try to gaslight me into thinking that I am accusing you wrongly, that shit you are trying to pull won't work. Don't bother lying to prove your innocence."

"I am not proving anything," he responded casually.

"Then, go ahead and confess it directly with your own mouth," I said, my patience growing thinner with every word that left my mouth, "Tell me you did it, Sean, and tell me why you resorted to something so evil. Tell me and confirm it yourself that you are nothing but a pathetic, evil asshole and that's why nobody likes you!—"

"— I did it."

The air stilled.

Immediately.

On Sean's sudden confession, the air condensed and stayed thick, having it difficult to breath.

"I did it, Acha," Sean said, again, shocking me a second time. "It was me, and yes, you are right. I had a reason for coming in here and it was plain simple, I had a vengeance score to settle. My goal, simple; it was to see your girlfriend drop dead to the ground, if not for that bastard Gadhafi that had to take the fall for her. I wanted to kill her, Acha, and can you blame me for hating you and hating that girl with every fucking fiber of my being, to the extent of caring little about what I would even wear to a school social gathering," he gestured to his pyjama fit, "just because I had to come here and see you lose every fucking thing you love?"

It took me the strength of my forefathers to not dent his jaw with an uppercut.

Every cell in my body was zapping, my entire being fucking triggered.

The silence in the air was so loud, and with the empty stare that Sean gave me as I shook and trembled in my pure rage, I could see that the person I was talking too was far from any form of empathy or humanity.

A tiny smirk formed at the corner of his lips when he broke eye contact with me.

"Jesus Christ," he said, shaking his head with a bitter laugh.

I watched him still, at the brink of my self control and sanity, but his impassiveness seemed to be fading by the second that passed.

Sean was already backed away from the wall when his gaze returned to me, eyes red and moist, as though literal blood were in them. The smirk on his face never faded, and the longer I looked at it, the longer I saw the sheer pain in that smile, the throbbing veins in those bloodshot eyes as they looked at me with thorough indignity.

However, the next words that left his mouth were ones I did not expect.

"So, you are really not joking," he said to me, voice shaking in the slightest. "You actually believe all that?"

I stopped, slapped with the sudden dread of the possibilities of being wrong in my accusation.

"Okay," he said stiffly, nodding as his realization and acceptance stage of grief completed. He sprung up to his feet and I knew he was heading for the door, my eyes rose with him and so did that dread from the pit of my stomach.

Could there have been the slightest possibility, no matter how little, that I was wrong?

Something suddenly just didn't feel right.

I felt it deep down within me as I watched him walk towards the door, his shoulders slumped in defeat and his entire demeanor, glaring of exhaustion. Sean wasn't just tired, he looked straight up beaten down, black, blue and fucking purple, barely carrying his entire weight as he dragged his fatigued feet weakly across the ground.

It was the instant realization that, yet again, seeing him like this was outside of his character line.

First it was the alcohol, and now, the over display of emotions. Two things that had rarely ever been a part of Sean.

The last time I saw him this beaten down like this was when he was nine years old...

And that hit me yet again with a painful whiplash, another powerful and penitent realization.

"Fuck, no." I cussed, jumping to my feet, the instant dread that had been building up latching a hold around me everywhere, from around my neck to the entirety of my frame.

I made a mistake...

No, fuck. No. No.

He was innocent. Sean Ayomide was innocent.

"Guy, wait. Please.—"

He got fucking triggered.

With an aggressive spun, Sean slapped my hand away before it could even touch the hem of his shirt, shoving me away from him with a strength that shocked me.

"Fimisile!" He screamed at my face, red eyes blazing and fiery with hot anger.

"I—I misunderstood everything. I—"

"—Are you actually fucking serious, Acha?" he asked me, his tone incredulous and eyes wide and twitching in both shock and rage, respectively. "No, wait, you are actually serious? You mean to tell me that you walked in here, certain of the fact that I would do something that terrible to another human being? That is the kind of vile person that you have made me out to be all these years, a person capable of taking a life at eighteen? Acha, guy, are you for fucking real?!"

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. It was like all the words I knew betrayed me, none of them failing to be bold enough to come out and construct a single sentence in my defense.

So, I stood there before Sean, who was trickling with rage, tongue-tied. I was regretting everything in that second.

"You sure do have some solid opinions about me, don't you," he said, his tone refined with a mix of painful sarcasm and a bitter snigger. "You've changed, Acha. I feel like I don't even know you anymore. But, you know what, fuck this.—"

His words cut deep into my chest, but I was too worried and guilt-stricken to focus on debating that with him. So, when he turned around to leave again, I sprinted forward, in time enough to reach the knob before him and obstruct the path.

"Listen," I said, my tone desperate, "This night has been fucked for me, my guy. For you too, I know. Fuck, for everyone. I wasn't thinking anything through. I'm sorry. I made a mistake.—"

"—Oh, yeah, and was Ada also a mistake in Ss2?"

I was winded.

Absolutely fucking winded.

"E-Eh?" I stammered, dumfounded.

Sean just used his words as an iron fist, hitting me with a solid low blow and knocking the breath right out of me with that one sudden question, and I was standing there, staring back at his glower, hoping and praying with everything in me that I heard him wrong.

"Are you shocked that I figured it out?" He asked me, throwing back my own words in a successful bid to bite me back in the ass. "Are you surprised that I know that all through out third term in Ss2, you were running around behind my back and fucking my girlfriend, Acha?"

I staggered against my own stance. Completely disoriented.

So many questions were racing through my mind, and the most prevalent one? I just had to have the audacity to even allow it accidently slip out of my mind.

"How did you know?—"

Sean's eyes narrowed in on me, in utter disbelief. He simply couldn't believe me right now.

"Th-that came out wrong," I said, stuttering, "I-I didn't mean it ask that out loud, I was just thinking it. No, fuck, I wasn't thinking it. I mean I was just.—"

"—The day after my birthday," he answered, cutting me off. "I found out about you and Ada the day after my birthday, Acha."

I... I was so confused.

"That night after my birthday you came over to look for me in Nana's House," he said reminding me. "Where I lost my cool on the Dining table after you tried to feed me that sob speech?"

I remembered, vividly.

That was the same day he wouldn't sit close to me and changed seats every time I got close, and also, the first time in a long time that I had seen tears in his eyes.

"You knew," I said, speechless, "On the dining table?"

"No," he shook his head, a pained smile stretching his lips, "I was fucking oblivious at that point, Acha, and that was when I retired to the guest room in Nana's house, conflicted and confused, beating myself up and thinking that I was the terrible person for lashing out on you when all you were trying to do was apologize for a mistake.—"

So, then when and how did he know, what was the timeline?

"—I am always self sabotaging, Acha. Something goes wrong and I wonder, somehow, how it could have been my fault," he said to me, his voice piercing me with the edge in it, "And, I sat there, hating myself for hating you, when you bared yourself to me that night. Thinking I was a heartless monster. Blaming myself for everything you did. Only for what, to whip out my phone to text you, to tell you it was all good between us even if it was not, to force myself to forgive you when I didn't have it in my heart, and then fucking what, Acha? I see a video proof of your affair with Ada, sent straight to me, from the witch herself?"

Fuck...

Fuck...

Fuck...

How could that have slipped my mind?

I remembered that very night Ada had forwarded me back my money on the grounds that it was 'too late', telling me she didn't need it anymore and blowing a tantrum because I ignored her texts and calls.

Vividly, I could recall that Ada's last words in my DMs were, "It's been too late since the past fifteen minutes. Ask your guy Sean what's up. Nice doing business with your motherfucker."

I never asked Sean shit, I was too terrified to assume the worst nor confront it.

So, all these while, what Ada meant by those messages was that she had already sent the video or video(s) to Sean, and all these while, I was here worried that he hated me and hoping he had not found out about that little bit of information, he had an idea of it all along?

"And, Acha, you had the damn audacity to buy her silence?" Sean asked me, his eyes reddened with wounding, scathing betrayal, "Seventy thousand naira monthly? You could have just manned the fuck up and told me the truth, and you rather decided it was better to turn my ex girlfriend into a fucking salary earner, all because your bullshit ass was too coward to address your fuck up like the man that you are supposed to be?!"

Fuck.

I understood Sean's frustration.

Completely.

But, he didn't understand...

"I shouldn't have bought her silence," I admitted there, wholeheartedly. 'It was fucked up, I agree. I should have just told you the truth.—"

"—You shouldn't have fucking slept with her, Acha!" He growled at me. "She was my girlfriend! I never touched Ada for one day, brah. Not one fucking day! And, all the while I was suffering and crying to you after class, telling you that I wasn't sure she was faithful, you kept lying to my face over and over, when you were the one she was shagging consistently. And, the two of you had the fucking audacity to make videos about it?!"

"Sean, if you could just let me explain.—"

"—Explain?" His eyebrows shot up, his expression incredulous, "Acha, do you know how long I waited for you to explain days after I found out? All you did was blow up my fucking DMs with excuses and half assed apologies about why you missed my birthday and my big game, and for one second, you never brought up the issue of Ada!"

"It was too fucking complicated, and that's what I am trying to explain to you, Sean—"

"—I waited for you to tell me yourself, Acha, but you —" He choked on his own words, overwhelmed with an indescribable rage. His finger literally vibrated in my line of vision as it pointed accusingly at my face, lips quivering from sheer fury, "Acha, you bastard, you never said anything— You!—You never— FUCK! I WAITED FOR YOU GUY! I FUCKING WAITED! I WAITED AND WAITED AND WAITED! EVERY FUCKING DAY!—"

He stopped at the slightest shake of his voice, a quivering breath leaving him as he shook visibly, wrecked. Absolutely and utterly destroyed. Demolished.

"And foolish me!" He cussed at himself, unleashing the blame on himself again, "I gave you excuses over and over, telling myself you are not a bad guy. That maybe you were just fighting to get the courage. That you knew you made a mistake. And that you would own up to it. Because you are not a bad guy and you have never been one, I had faith in redeeming us, Acha. If only you opened that fucking mouth of yours and said something! But every day, every fucking day that passed and you didn't mention anything about what you and Ada did, behind my back, it soiled all my faith in the sincerity of your words. Do you fucking grab that shit, Acha? It means that every word that comes out of your fucking mouth right now is dust. Fucking breeze! And the sooner you get that into your fucking head, the better for you. Marcus Acha, right now, your words mean nothing to me."

My tongue felt shorter, it couldn't roll a single word out. I wasn't just speechless, I was breathless too.

Sean never took words to heart in the first place, good or bad, it didn't matter. He was a brick wall when it came to anything verbal. So, for him to stand here and swear to me that my words meant nothing...

There was simply no hope.

I hadn't understood the gravity of how much I had fucked up, how badly I had left this thing to become as complicated as it had turned, until it was dawning on me in that moment.

And, nothing wounded me more than the look in Sean's eyes.

I had never seen him so torn apart in my life, and that wounded me. Till the day I fucking died, the look in Sean's eyes would forever remain embedded like a scar inside my brain. That betrayal that tattooed itself deeply into his irises, shooting lasers of judgement, indignation, resentment and hatred from his heavily diluted, loath-filled pupils to attack me.

He simply could not stand the same proximity with me, even.

It didn't take me until this point for me to be certain of one thing...

My friendship with Sean was never going to be the same again.

"I don't need to hear one more word from you, Acha," he said to me, his words stiff and heavy as he spoke.

Silent Anger was the absolute worst. When the madman in you had been exhausted, and you were a breathless mess, your mind and body completely spent and absolutely done.

And, respecting his decision was not hard. I simply couldn't speak.

"But, I just want to know one thing," he said.

I stared at him, listening.

"Would you have ever really told me the truth?" He asked me, "Or, were you going to keep watching me clown in an endless search for the guy that Ada cheated on me with, in Crown Estate, laughing at me for being so blindly trusting and stupid that no way in heaven's name would it have been you?"

"I never laughed at you, Sean." I answered, unsure of how to construct the rest of my words to answer the rest of his question.

He didn't even let me continue my sentence, even if I wanted to.

"Ada had the video evidence. There were seven of them," He said, and I would have interrupted if he didn't quickly add in, "So, I want to hear it directly from the Horse's mouth, Acha, and give you the opportunity to admit your shit with your full chest..."

I swallowed the stones in my throat.

Sean looked at me, his eyes sharp like daggers and his question, hitting me below the belt.

"Acha, did you sleep with Ada while she was my girlfriend?"

Even then, it was so fucking difficult to say the truth.

Why couldn't I just damn the consequences and let it come out of my mouth, even when it was right there — the truth — lingering underneath my tongue like a sack of bile.

Sean looked at me, waiting for my answer, and which each second that ticked and tocked in my silence, the truth was only getting bitter, and the shame of confession cowering me further in my shell.

However, there was no escape.

I had to say something or neither of us were leaving this room, and succumbing to my unavoidable fate, I opened my mouth and did the one thing that I thought I could never do, daring to let such wounding words come out of my mouth.

"I did, Sean. I spent the entire third term of Ss2, sleeping with Ada behind your back while you suffered in your relationship. I was afraid of having you find out, so when I tried to tell Ada we needed to stop, we fell out badly. She cussed at me and threatened to tell you everything, so I got anxious, and made a deal with her. Because of this, I spent the entire long vacation and Ss3 first term, trying to keep her mouth shut by paying her seventy thousand naira monthly."

Sean looked like he had died and resurrected a million times, over and over again.

My heart tore to a million pieces watching his entire soul and spirit break into tiny fragments of glass. I closed my eyes, expecting the incoming fist against any open spot on my face, but it never came.

He didn't even hit me, I wished he did. It'd hurt less than what I felt in my heart.

All he did was inhale deeply and let out a question I didn't know the answer to, his words drawing subtly as his heavy breathing shook his voice.

"Do you know why I came to the Christmas Party, Acha?"

Simple, no. I had no fucking idea.

My silence gave him his answer and he continued,

"I came here because I wanted to make things right with you, man," he told me, and I didn't miss the waver in his tone. What I couldn't detect is if it was anger or hurt, or both. However, the heaviness in his tone when he continued answered that dilemma for me when he said, loathingly, "Na me be the bastard mumu. This shit isn't even on you, Acha."

He was angry... But, again, at himself more than at me.

I hated how he looked for the slightest opportunity to scorn himself. It tore at me.

"No, but can you imagine it?" he said to me, eyes red and wet, "I spent weeks locked up in that fucking depressing house, wondering what the fuck I did wrong. Because I must have done something, Acha, for you to have treated me as cruel as you did. I spent my days and nights, hating every fucking reflection of myself, calling myself names, wishing the very worst for myself, because I must have done something shitty to deserve your betrayal. Your multiple betrayal, and it had to be my fault, and so I had to look for way to sought after you. I had to make peace with you for being the shitty friend that caused you to do such a terrible thing to me!—"

"—Stop saying that, Sean.—"

"—So, I fucking came here to make things right!" He said, seethe rising, "To fix things, Acha. To win my best friend back!—"

"—Sean—"

"— But, that second I walked into the party and set my eyes on you, Acha, I felt all my suppressed anger come back again," he literally spoke through gritted teeth, the rims of his eyes stained with tears that never dropped, "I felt so, so fucking mad. I just wanted to rip my fucking hair out of my head!"

"I—"

"— You were happy, Acha," Sean said, his lids twitching; he was like a psycho having a meltdown. "You were fucking happy, Acha. I spent days and nights, suffering, and you were happy. You were at peace. Do you know how painful it is to find out the very person who has taken away all your peace of mind is there, living their best fucking life? I saw you with that girl, Dabeluchi, you couldn't be fucking happier. You have your world, your joy, your peace of mind, after taking away mine?"

It hit me...

That moment not long after the party started, when I felt eyes watching me only to turn back and see it was Sean, watching me and Dabeluchi. Right before the champagne mess he had started with the boys of Class F. I remembered, vividly.

It didn't occur to me how much that had affected him, at least I hadn't realized it like this. And, now, I figured that was why he started to pop those bottles of champagne with those boys he didn't even like, probably thinking he could make himself feel something different, other than the rage and anger for me.

And, for Dabeluchi.

Only God knew how much Sean hated Dabeluchi.

All the while, I thought that Sean's show off with Aaron and all the behaviors from him that I couldn't understand was just him, showing off how much power and control he could have over us. I misread Sean a bit too much tonight, all he was eagerly and desperately trying to do was transfer all that rage to something else, and if possible, someone else.

However, the fact that he ended up storming off after his heated verbal fight with Aaron and flung my hand away when I tried to reach him, it was clear to me that even with all the charade he was putting up, it still didn't work.

Sean was still undeniably furious with me.

"Do you know I actually felt very bad for shunning you like that in front of everyone?" He said to me, laughing bitterly, and I knew he was talking about the time he had flung my hand away when I tried to reach him — an action that I had not even taken the slightest to heart. "And, then, out of the blue, your babe texted me..."

I swallowed hard, remembering that this one still happened.

"You would pound me to dust if I told you all I felt about Dabeluchi Orji, but Acha, my hate for her was not even strong enough to kill my desperation to be back on good terms with you, so when I saw that text from her, asking to meet up and talk," he revealed, "I fucking agreed... Because, maybe, if I could learn to stand Dabeluchi Orji, it could be one step forward for me learning to let go of some of the shit you did. I even made your girlfriend a fucking ginger smoothie."

He laughed. He actually laughed at what he just said, shaking his head at it.

"Big fucking mistake," he told me, his jawbone clenching as he spoke with so much resentment, "Because, God, when I saw that girl—"

The irritation he spoke, at the thought of my girlfriend. I was a bit relieved he didn't finish his sentence. His sheer disgust for her wouldn't even let him.

"I nearly pushed that girl off the rooftop, Acha," He told me.

A knot formed in my chest, thinking of the possibilities.

"I was that triggered by her presence," he admitted in lividity, "Brah, my entire conversation with Dabeluchi, I fought angels and demons in my head. One side, telling me to try to hate her less, and the other side, pressuring me to strangle the life out of her right then and then, and the fact that so much hatred and anger and bitterness could live in one person triggered that self loathe again in me, that spite for myself for being such a bitter and hateful human being who deserved the fucking worst from the world, and tell me, Marcus Acha; tell me WHY THE FUCK I kept hating myself over and over again, consistently, when I had the right to be fucking angry! MY ANGER WAS JUSTIFIED, ACHA! I WAS FUCKING VALID! I HAD EVERY RIGHT TO FEEL ANGRY AT YOU! AND YET, I BLAMED MYSELF AND WANTED MY BEST FRIEND BACK!—"

His fingers balled into a shivering fist against his mouth, tightly pressing as though he was suppressing a gut-wrenching, screeching scream from leaving him.

"I'm scared, my guy," his entire body was shaking at this point, it looked like a panic or anxiety attack. His teeth chattered against each other, and I knew it wasn't the Harmattan cold. "I am fucking scared, brother. You know me, Acha. You know that the only people I have in this fucked up world are you and Pa.—"

That lump in my throat, it went down in a painful gulp.

"—And, you know that I don't even see my father anymore these days, it's fucking rare. The last time I set my eyes on him was on the day of the big game, and after their divorce, I am never going to see that man again."

Fuck.

"So, it's only you," he said, tone restrained, "It's only you, fam, so you can't betray me. Do you get, man? You shouldn't have betrayed me, Acha."

I felt so fucking conflicted right now...

"You asked me why I rather chose to be a thorn in your flesh, instead of cutting you off," he said, when he blinked a tear strand dropped but he ignored it even when it landed right on his lips. "Fuck, Acha, I could not cut you off. Even if I tried. No matter how hurt I felt by your actions, I couldn't make the bold decision to just delete you from my life. I needed you around me..."

My stomach churned, I felt a dull pain in its pits. I was absolutely gutted.

Sean sniffed, inhaling deeply in and out for a quick second as though he found it particularly difficult to breathe. I got worried, wondering if I could dare extend a helping hand...

"But, you know what?" he said, his tone having a resolve in it that was hard to pick up.

I watched Sean, as he wiped his hands across his face, sniffing in again while wiping his falling tears in a determined urgency, a stubborn scowl tightening on his face as he cleaned off the tears on his face aggressively.

"Acha, you know fucking what?" he said, his voice hardening with anger. An anger that came with a scary certainty, a dreadful determination. "Not anymore."

I stood there, anxiety growing, as I slowly comprehended what Sean was trying to say to me.

"Upon everything, Acha, you had to top it all off by accusing me of something so gruesome, something that I couldn't even bring myself to do in my worst state of confliction, further proving to me that you are not only a lying, backstabbing human being who would drop and replace a homie at the slightest sight of gold, but you know so little about me, think so terribly about me. I gave you a thousand and one excuses every time you hurt me, but at the slightest opportunity you got, you made me out to be an asshole..."

"— I'm sorry—"

"—No need," Sean assured me, that sickening bitter smile growing back on his face again, along with a shocking confidence, "No need, Acha. Don't be sorry for shit."

I watched him, how easy it was for him to switch yet again from that helpless and fragile demeanor to a resemblance of a total monster, his grin sharp yet, bitter. Even with blood shot eyes, he managed to laugh, unleashing from within him that madman that he suppressed this entire conversation we had.

"Marcus Acha," he called my name, his voice didn't even quiver anymore. "After all these years, you could reason so little about me. So, you already labelled me an enemy?"

His now amused stare remained on me, his brow arched in question.

A question I couldn't answer.

"Cool, brah," he said, a manic chuckle leaving him on his resolve, "No wahala. I heard you. And, now from this point onwards, me and you," he gestured between me and him, eyes blazing, "are brothers turned enemies."

"No —"

"— And, mark my words," he stepped up to me, bloodshot eyes squaring mine with a surge of determined vengeance laced in them, "I pledge my best to live up to the fucking name. Marcus Acha, as brothers turned enemies, I will show you just how far I can go to crush my enemies to dust."

I stepped back, taken aback and slightly confused.

"I will make you feel every pain that I have ever felt," he said to me, filled with rage, "You will cry back every tear that I have ever cried, and fuck it, Acha, you will feel the kind of loss that you made me feel when the person you give a shit about the most crushes you like powder under their fucking feet.—"

"—Are you talking about Dabeluchi?—"

"—And that would just be the tip of the iceberg, Acha," he said, his tone warning, "I could do a lot worse things to you to make you regret ever making me your enemy, and whether or not I eventually decide to consider the bond that we once shared as brothers is up to me, but never forget this shit, Acha," he closed in on me, spoke with every fiber of his being and seriousness, "I could make your life a Living Hell if I wanted to."

I stared at him, both worried and flabbergasted.

It wasn't just the threat, it was the switch up. Just like he had done with Kelechi. Only worse.

This guy was simply not okay, and marveling at his near-psychotic duality, my thoughts had to escape my head and out from my mouth.

"You're insane."

If you'd thought that was capable of triggering Sean, think again.

The nigga broke into laughter. Loud, hysteric laughter that filled the silence of the room that we were both in.

"I swear, ba?" he responded, his laughter still rich, "But, hey brah, cheers to madmen like me." He scoffed the last bit of his laughter, shook his head as he tapped against my shoulder, one, two times, and added, "And cheers to Assholes like us."

Without warning, he slammed the door behind me open, caring little about the fact that he hit me with it. I barely had the chance to move from the way when he slammed into me and stormed out of the room, a shocking rage burning behind him as he left the room.

I watched behind him, stunned by how many emotions he could display at such short notice, and I didn't stop watching behind Sean, even after he disappeared from my line of vision. It couldn't be denied, the torn feeling in my chest that I felt as soon as he left.

"Fuck." I said, sighing tiredly as I held onto the door, half my mind thinking about locking myself in this room and drowning myself in the self pity and thoughts that I was an asshole, and the rest of me thinking about what the fuck was going on in Sean's mind at that moment, and if, dare I worried, me and Dabeluchi were actually safe in his eyes this night...

I hated to think this way, even after everything that happened tonight because of my quickness to conclude.

But, Sean made his intentions from now on clear. And, I was not even sure if there was any hope going after him at this point, it would amount to nothing. And there was that strong tugging in me to go after Dabeluchi, to make sure she was alright.

Right then, in my moment of confliction, wind whooshed through me as a group of people passed by me, their urgency evident with the speed they used to zoom past me. And it was only with a careful look that I was able to pick them out before they became mere retreated figures...

It was first Chika Chioma. Then, Somadina Best. With one of the twins that I couldn't tell apart. All three girls zooming off with a suspicious urgency, and an occasionally back-glancing Casper Bassey.

Questions raised in my head...

The last I knew, I lured Dabeluchi into their hands.

However,

All of them had stepped out of that now quiet, decrepit guest room, with no trace of my girlfriend in their midst.

CHUCKLES DANGEROUSLY.

Omoh. This chapter was a fucking rollercoaster. And, I cried writing Sean's parts... It just gutted me how much misunderstanding hovers around that kid and how relatable his self loathing is. It was very difficult to write, my heart broke too many times. Nonetheless, you all can see a glimpse of the things that go on inside the head of Sean Ayomide... Sigh. What are your thoughts?

And, what do you think Sean's 'threat' would mean in the course of the plot?

We can only tell in the next chapter, lmao.

I think at this point, it's safe to announce...

TWO CHAPTERS TO THE FINAL CHAPTER OF TMBT BOOK ONE.