Misfortunate (Completed)

Chapter Three: Film Noir

Song for this chapter; Savage by Megan Thee Stallion ft Beyonce.

"That's all for today's shoot people." I internally do a jig when the director says we're done for the day. I intentionally helped rush the shoot because I have to travel to Kano. Need to go visit Abdul who left for Kano a week ago, I miss him.

I step out into the cool morning air, we'd been shooting since four am. I left my house at an ungodly three am to get here early, the only downside is that I have to follow the minivan that brought the rest of the cast. So I lean against a pillar and wait for the rest of the cast to finish, right there I imagine myself frying eggs and plantains with hot spicy noodles for breakfast. The thought keeps me company and helps be less angry at the stalling actors.

"Labeebah." I sigh. I can't even fault him for calling my name right. There's no Nafeesah here to save me today. The worst thing is, I didn't hear him walk so close to me.

I shut my eyes and turn to Ali whom I know is standing behind me. "Assalamualaikum." I decide to say in greeting, trying to remind him of his Islamic duty to not look so lewdly at my face. He just sidelines my salam and puts his hand on the wall behind me, I duck and get out of the perimeter of his arm.

"What do you want? I need to get back to my husband." I say husband a little louder to make him back off with his advances but he just laughs. He hasn't spoken since he called my name.

"I want you Labeebah. Only you. Just once. That's all." I laugh lightly, getting savage satisfaction from the way his confidence he pasted on his face reduces. "If I needed a one night stand, astaghfirullah, it would not be with you. Have you seen yourself? With your unconnected beards and uneven gait?" I quickly mutter another forgiveness dua for insulting his body but that's how I'll get him off my back. He crossed his arms and stares at me with amusement in his eyes, killing the satisfaction I felt earlier.

"I'll get you. Even if I die trying." I laugh his words off nervously and walk straight into the bus, when the driver slides the door open. I sit in the first row seat, behind the driver and next to the window. I lean back, feeling the comfort of the padded seat. I hear him switch on his car's ignition and drive away. Good riddance.

A few minutes later, the rest of the crew have filled the bus and we're getting ready to move. The other actresses sit in the back already mummuring. I don't dare turn or I'll be the subject of conversation, I know this from a harsh experience that happened early last year when i just became a little popular.

We had just finished a scene whwn they came to me  as i was getting made up for a dancing scene. They sent out the makeup artist like secondary school groupies and shut the door to the dressing room firmly. "Whom did you sleep with to get this role!" It wasn't a question, it was a statement. I could not even say otherwise as I knew they'd beat me, so I saucily answered, "If you knew would you sleep with them too?" They stared at me shocked and I giggled. I've earned the reputation of slut ever since.

This doesn't mean that they don't send me birthday wishes or congratulate me publicly, they just do not have a good opinion of my person and boy am I glad.

Soon enough, I'm dropped off at the gate to ny house and I wave as they drive away, hopefully to drop off Basma Adi who lives two streets away from me, in a swankier part of town. I jerk out of my self imposed reverie and walk into the reception where I'm hit by a child running. I immediately crouch, not knowing what else to do to stop the child's tears.