I'm flyin' high, super hero
S on my chest, with my Marilyn Monroe
Feel like a star (a star)
'Cause we got audio, oh oh
*

"Well, that was horribly embarrassing."

"Stop stealing my words." She pinched my arm, then kissed the part of me she pinched.

I laughed softly.

We were lying back now, staring at the night sky. Her head was on my chest, my arm, lazily around her and she was playing with my diamond wristwatch, tracing the chain, feeling the dial, twisting the knob, with a childish fascination that made me smile. I felt so peaceful this way. I didn't want it to end.

After I had completely embarrassed myself before her, we laid back and started talking about anything and everything. We talked and talked and talked, from politics to music, she argued that my choice of music was too proper and academic, so she proceeded to fill up my phone with albums of her Zayn Malik and other sugary pop songs that just weren't my type.

I liked Sia, Adele, Celine Dion. They were quickly becoming classics. But she introduced me to Koffee, BTS, Selena Gomez, I decided I liked her single: 'Lose you to find me'. It resonated well with me. I had tried to stomach Cardi B for her sake, but decided I'd delete her entire album when she wasn't looking.

It was a torturing moment for us, but we ended up trading songs and she decided she could like Burna Boy, after listening to his latest album. She vehemently hated my Fela and Bob Marley collection and refused to even listen to them.

"Their music is more about their lyrics and less of the beat. They're trying to send a message. Don't you want to be culturally conscious."

"Abeg, keep your cultural consciousness to yourself. I like my Cardi."

Oh well. Her loss.

We talked about our different religions. She was born a Christian and I was born a Muslim. We had both defected along the way. I couldn't remember the last time I prayed to Allah. The last time I went to a mosque...

She hadn't prayed to God in a long time, either. It felt like I was talking to the ceiling and wondering if anyone's listening. I stopped deceiving myself a long time ago, she had said.

Mine was a different case. I believed in Allah... I just... Forgot to talk to him all the time.

And between the both of us, I didn't know who was worse.

"How much is this wristwatch worth?" She suddenly asked, quietly, jeering me out of my thoughts.

Huh. I blinked the dreamy haze out of my eyes. "If I tell you, you'll be tempted steal it from me."

"I was going to steal it before I asked. Consider this a heads-up."

I didn't know whether to take her seriously or not. "What if I give it to you?"

She went silent for a moment, then shook her head. "I'd rather keep my dignity."

"By stealing it?"

"Yes."

I laughed softly, deciding to humour her. "I'll turn a blind eye to that."

She wouldn't do it, would she?

She remained silent, her legs were entwined with mine, she had claimed my entire body, relaxing on me and feeling so comfortable while doing it. Like she was mine and I was hers.

Something had changed between us. It was a tiny change, a shift in our internal energies. Our souls had connected on a cosmic level. I suddenly felt more closer to her than I've ever been with anyone else. No one had ever seen me cry.

Except Asa.

"Would you like to be my Cinderella?"

"I'm no princess, Amir."

"You can be my princess, Asa."

I inhaled a tight breath, closed my eyes and thought of the past, recalling that dreadful night I had confessed to Asa. I had cried and cried and cried, reeling at the pain of being rejected to my face. It felt like my heart was screaming and fire was burning holes in my lungs. I had a panic attack that night, screaming and crying and struggling to get my lungs to work. It felt like I was trying to breathe through a tiny straw, like all the oxygen suddenly got shut out, like my lungs were collapsing and I had felt dizzy and in pain and I had passed out on the floor of my bathroom, trying to get to my medicine cabinet.

I remembered how tight my chest had felt, my lungs on fire,  my heart, pounding out of control, tears, streaming down my face. I cringed now, recalling how low I had sunk. How much lower I kept sinking, everytime she picked Kam over me. I thought I'd to die that first time.

You're such a goddam pest!

How do I get rid of you?!

Asa's rejection had made me feel like I was nothing after all. Like I had nothing else to fight for. Like, I was hanging on to sanity by a loose thread and she had taken a scissor and cut through it and watched me fall into oblivion.

I exhaled, opened my eyes and looked at my present. I had opened up to a stranger. I have never opened up to anyone like that before. Not Kam. Not Dave... Certainly not Jordan. I didn't even know her real name... I didn't want to. Knowing her real name will make her feel less like a dream and more like reality. It'd make her take a firm form in my memory. I'd know her for who she really was. She'd lose her mystery, her allure, her magic.

Magical. That's what tonight was. I've never felt so at peace with myself. In my skin. There were no voices. No loud noises. No racing hearts. I was at peace. My soul was at peace with hers. Like, I had suddenly found a home.

And the way she was holding me. Her idle hand had left my wristwatch now and was tracing circles on my chest. My breath hitched at the tickle of her touch, my nerves, excited and alert. 

I stroke her hair, gently, softly. I never knew I could be this... Touchy. But it felt nice. I didn't feel awkward or forced. My body just moved on its own. My hands liked touching her. Feeling her. Knowing she was there.

But for how long?

By tomorrow morning, she'd be gone. Probably before I wake up. No one wants to deal with the awkwardness that comes the morning after a one night stand.

But what if it doesn't have to be a one night stand? What if she can be more than a distraction? What if-

Fucking think, Amir! Rashid's voice suddenly bellowed in my head. She's a lagos girl. They too dey open eye. Gold diggers. Don't trust them! They know what they're doing. Just smash and pass and don't catch feelings.

I had looked at him like he was stupid. What idiot falls in love with a one night stand?

I was slowly becoming that idiot.

My mind wandered, thinking back to the guy at the grocery store.

I've done some stupid shit for money, she had said.

Did she sleep with him for money? Was he an ex?
...

How many more guys have she slept with for money? I didn't know I had said that out loud.

"None." Her voice was soft. Firm.

I blinked at her. She was practically lying on top me now, her chin on my chest, looking at me with a calm expression.

"You asked how many guys I hooked up with for money. I answered, none." She clarified, her eyes wouldn't leave mine. She was challenging me with them. Challenging me to see the truth in them.

I didn't avoid her gaze. The truth was plain, as bright as day. Either she had perfected the art of lying seamlessly, or she was telling the truth.

"But you said-"

"It's a long story." She sighed tiredly, resting her cheek back on my chest. "I was desperate. I still am. But I don't fuck for money."

"You'd rather rob?"

I could hear the smile in her voice. "Maybe."

"So... Who's he?"

It took a while for her to speak up. "I met him at a club... you see, I move out a lot. When social media wasn't working out for me, i decided to hit the clubs, suck up to the rich, look out for prominent connections."

It was quiet between us. She was still tracing idle circles on my wrist. It was pleasant. Soothing. A reaction I was starting to really like.

"He's a club promoter. They pay him to make appearances in clubs around town. I was at the club that night and he noticed me. Invited me to join his group of friends in the VIP section. I gladly did. He seemed very interested in me. He asked me a lot of questions about who I am, what I like... What I want. He saw right through me. He knew under all the borrowed designers and heavy makeup, I was just a hungry lagos girl with big dreams and bigger ambitions. He capitalized on that."

She took a shaky breath and exhaled, the defeated sigh in her voice, twisted my lungs. "We exchanged numbers. He called all the time. Took me out a lot. He told me he liked me. He wanted to help me. I've heard that line over and over and over again, usually from rich men old enough to be my father... But he felt different. I wanted to believe he was different. I've never fallen in love before. I don't know how that shit works, but I knew I liked him enough. He promised he'd make me blow. I gave him my demo records. All of them. He said he liked them. Played my songs to his friends and they loved it. I had never felt so accomplished in my entire life."

She waited. One beat. Two beats. Twenty four beats. "Long story short, I slept with him."

I didn't know how to feel. Between what I should feel and what I was feeling, there was a long gap. A gaping hole, yawning and stretching.

"I liked him. He was attractive. Nice to me. Believed in my dreams and had some money to his name. I thought it'd be the beginning of a relationship for us."

You poor, poor girl. I held her tighter. Didn't want to say anything because I didn't trust my voice to not crack and shatter.

"Big mistake, as you can see. He stopped picking my calls. He didn't want to see me anymore. Feigned excuses anytime I called with a different number... As if that wasn't enough, he stole my songs, sold my beat, took my lyrics.

"I was furious for days. I attacked blindly. Called him out on twitter for stealing my work. He laughed at me. Called me a clout chaser. People took his side, everyone saw me as the angry Nigerian lady that just wanted to use drama to achieve fame. I received death threats, rape threats, from people that knew him. He ruined my reputation. Destroyed my name. I changed my look, thought of changing my identity. I can't tell you my name because you may know someone that knows someone that knows me as a desperate clout chaser. For some stupid reason, I actually care what you think of me."

I nodded now, understanding. That was why she looked so different from the first time I saw her. I suddenly wish I had given that guy more than a solid right hook. 

"I didn't know how to fight back. I didn't have anyone... The only person I had was Corey."

"Your neighbour."

"The one and only." Her fingers continued their idle path. Past my wrists, resting on my palm. She traced my fingers with hers, carefully treaded them together until our fingers were entwined. That single action... I felt like a super hero. Like the brightest star in the universe.

"Corey had warned me not to get too close to the guy. That rich guys prey on desperate girls. I wanted to believe he was wrong. After shit happened, he was full of I-Told-You-Sos. Annoyed the fuck out of me. I'm not talking to him at the moment." She exhaled a tired breath, her body, lax, against mine. Her fingers were snuggled in mine, her cherry scent was something I'd never forget. She had wrapped her essence around my soul.

"Few days ago, he started calling me. Telling me sweet things. He'd chat me up and start telling me sweet things. Rubbish things." She growled now. "That bastard. I'll never forget what he did. One day, one day, I'll become something. I won't be a nobody anymore. And I'll come back and ruin him. I'll destroy him. I'll make him pay."

She was breathing hard, her chest, rising and falling angrily against mine. For the first time, I saw her for who she really was. She was angry. She was strong. Unbreakable. She was ready to fuck up anybody that dared step on her toes.

She was beautiful.

She was formidable.

She was goddamn perfect.

I squeezed her hand, gently, tenderly. She looked at me, her eyes were warm coffee and hot chocolate. Dark. Dark. Wet and red from tears and anger.

Beautiful, beautiful, perfect.

I took her chin, between my forefinger and thumb, my left hand, cradling her cheek, tracing softly on her skin.

And when her lips met mine, she exploded into stardusts and sandcastles and wishing wells and everything ephemeral and nostalgic and magical.

She kissed me. Fucking hell, she kissed me and my lips hurt, shoving anger and fire down my lungs.

If shooting stars had a flavour, they'd taste like her, I'm sure. She tasted like raw strength, determination, powerful ambitions and devastating dreams and paralyzing heartbeats and the fear of being broken and battered again and again and gambling with her heart, once more, just this once.

Her hands went to my hair, fingers grazing my scalps, we were pulling and pushing against each other and I didn't want to let go, or lose this fight, matching her passion and quelling her rage, tracing the seam of her lips with my tongue, gentle, soothing, healing. I explored her mouth, turning her anger to sweetness, dulling the embers of wrath. I kissed her and she kissed me and we both kissed until our kisses turned soft. My hands around her waist, brushing her smooth skin, her hands in my hair, gripping my curls.

I traced her chin, pressed a soft kiss on her lips, another on her forehead.

And she just stared at me, breathing heavily through her swollen, slightly parted lips.

Her lipstick was ruined. I grinned.

She suddenly hugged me tight. Fierce. Almost like she was afraid of letting go. For the second time tonight, I heard the appreciation in her gestures and I returned the hug, generously, nestling my face in her hair.

We stayed like that for a while, trapped in another universe, where time was meaninless and space was non-existent and I didn't want this moment, this forever moment, right here, to end.

Her stomach suddenly rumbled angrily and I remembered we were supposed to be heading home by now.

"Let's go," I told her, whispering into her hair, inhaled deeply. She really smelled nice. I didn't want to let her go.

She only hugged me tighter, her heartbeat, slamming against mine. "I want to stay like this for a while. You're so soft."

I chuckled. "We have to go. We can cuddle in my bed."

The moment I said it, all the nerves in my body froze. I suddenly remembered who she was. Who I was. What I was doing. What we were doing.

The realization that she was just a distraction for the night slammed into me at full force.

Simplistically, a one night stand.

I had forgotten that.

It seemed like she remembered too, because she extracted herself from me, jumped down from the car hood. I sat up slowly, looking at her, she was staring at me with an indecipherable look in her dark, dark eyes. "I'm not..." she cleared her throat. "I'm not looking for love."

My heart had a whiplash, a sudden tremor that made me shudder.

This is good. This is good. This is what I wanted, right? No strings attached. Just a distraction. I love Asa, I will always love Asa.

"Neither am I." I whispered back, fire and ice, fighting in my chest.

Lies! My heart screamed at me. Lies! My soul was crying.

She looked at her feet now, suddenly growing shy. "So... Okay, then. Let's go."

Stay.

_

"I can't believe this, you live here?!" She whisper-screamed in that high-pitched voice of hers.

"Just for the holidays, yeah." I chuckled, securing the car lock and walking into the house with her, lugging all our shopping items from the backseat.

She stopped to stare at everything until we reached the kitchen where she sat at one of the bar stools, claiming an entire tub of ice cream.

"So, this friend of yours, turned enemy-"

I lifted my head to look at her. "I never said we turned enemies."

She waved me off, lazily, rolling her eyes and licking vanilla ice cream from her spoon. "What does he do? Like, how did he get the house?"

"His grandfather is into oil. His mum is a neurosurgeon with a PhD."

"How about his dad?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone that doesn't want anything to do with me." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. It was only after I said it before I realized how bitter I sounded.

She looked at me with a broken expression. "I didn't say that."

"I know... It's just..." Fuck, what am I thinking?! What am I doing?!

She whispered. "Look, you're nice, you're rich, you're cool. I like that, but you're... You're too much for me."

She must have read the confused expression on my face. "You're too cool. Too rich. Too nice. You're perfect. I'm nowhere near your level. I'd stink beside you."

I looked away, emptying the packet of noodles into the pot, trying to do something to distract me from the siren, speaking to me.

She wasn't done.

"I just don't want to hope too much, okay. We exist in entirely different worlds. In real life, we don't mix and I accept that. Tomorrow, you may see me and look the other way. You won't want anything to do with me. You may pick another girl to 'distract' you." She made air quotes, "and I'm cool with that. I'm just trying to protect my heart, okay? My life's not going to turn out like a fucking Cinderella story and I want to find peace in that fact."

I looked at her. I didn't know what to say. What to think. And I was only sure of one thing.

My heart wouldn't stop hurting.

"I'm sorry, Zee. I'm don't do love. I tried it once and look where it got me."

I gulped. "It's fine. It's okay."

What was I thinking? What the fuck was I thinking?! What is wrong with me?!

I went back to chopping onions, shredding cheese, skimming milk, trying to distract myself from her presence.

It was quiet between us. For once, it was quiet in my head.

What exactly do I want from this girl?

But Asa-

I sighed, cracking the eggs, deciding I needed a long, long sleep.

Soft hands suddenly snaked around my waist. I stood still, electricity, zapping through my entire body, frying my brain in the process.

She kissed my back. I gasped, as if I just got electrocuted, my nerves, coiling in pleasure-pain. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my shoulder, my neck. I closed my eyes, not wanting to fall. Not wanting to sink. Not wanting to drown.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, breathing uneasily through my teeth.

"Focus on the food." She murmured, nibbling on my earlobe, nipped, sucked, stroked with her tongue.

I exploded.

Turned around to face her. She had a satisfied smirk on her lips.

"Stop that." I was breathing uneasily, my hands were shaking.

Her smirk widened into a grin, she stepped even closer to me, closer, closer, until her body was flush against mine. Soft hands circled my neck, bringing me impossibly close to her. Pressed her lips against my ear. Whispered. "Make me." Rubbed her soft body against mine.

I snapped. Lost control. Hungrily took her mouth, gripped her hips, lifted her up and placed her on the marble top. Her legs circled around my waist as she accepted my mouth like an offering, taking what she wanted and giving me back with twice as much passion.

"Don't." I whispered against her lips, trembling. I rested my forehead against hers, panting.

"Don't what?"

"Don't make me want you."

"I want you."

Fuck.

I stopped, speechless.

"But I'm hungry, too. Let's eat first." She gently pushed me away, hopped off the marble top. "I'll make the omelette." She declared. "You make the noodles."

I was fighting a smile on my lips, watching her. She held a spatula in her hand, tied her hair up.

"Yes ma'am."