JONAH POV
~manchester, United Kingdom.~
I always hated this darn morning sun. One day, I swear it'll be the death of me. I muttered beneath my breath, my dreads were scattered across my face. The beautiful dreams I'd just had were already slipping away. Not that I remembered them clearly, just that they felt better than being awake. I groaned on the massive bed I laid in. It gave a loud creak the moment I rolled off it. Father said it was a gift from a friend in Abuja. Typical. Just the kind of thing men like him do, throwing furniture around like trophies, trying to one-up each other with wealth. Like they had nothing better to do with their money. I never really cared about his money. And I wasn't about to start now.
First things first my phone. I searched everywhere around the room. Books flipped, pillows scattered across the floor. "You treat that thing like it's your second child," Mum used to say. Not sure why she said second child like I'd had one before. Why a child at all? I wondered to myself. Still, I needed to find it. After searching every nook and cranny of my oversized room like a madman, I feared the worst. Today, of all days the same day a Japanese girl had followed me. I wondered if she'd replied to my message. "You better not do this to me, phone," I growled like it owed me something.
Then it hit me. I rushed down the stairs that linked my room to the parlour. These were the times I wished I had the speed of light. I jumped over the sofa, rolled like a ninja, and there it was my phone. I stared at it like a predator looking at it's prey. But before I could pounce, a voice cut through the air. "Olumide!!" My ninja moment shattered instantly. That voice, the one I'd grown to hate. None other than my father, Chief Dele Williams. The one man who could ruin my mood without even trying. No matter how much money he had amassed, it didn't change his annoying personality.
We barely talked. And when we did, it was always the same, either him trying to force me into the family business, or trying another way to do the exact same thing. Either way, my answer never changed. "Olumide!" he called out again, voice firm like he was speaking to a subordinate. He cleared his throat. "How are your academics? How is high school?" I knew where he was going with this, but I was still taken aback.
"Well, if you had said that a year ago, it would've made more sense," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
The room grew awkward and heavy. I hated moments like this. "That's even better!" he grinned. "Then you can start coming to the firm. Might even take you to Nigeria, show you the other branches." He kept rambling about when I should resume, what I should wear, the dos and don'ts in the office. I just nodded. He was about to travel again, like always. And like always, he'd forget this entire conversation once he got back. At least that was a relief. Finally, he left the parlour, somewhat pleased. I had no plans to join his firm. I was already working for someone.
Speaking of jobs... I rushed over to my phone and checked the time. Just few minutes past nine. "Oh Lord!" I groaned, racing into the bathroom with my phone in hand. I was supposed to be there by 9:45am. Mr. Marvin that old geezer, would probably start telling me another one of his stories. Not sure why a man in his late fifties thought it was normal to trauma-dump his youth on a 20-year-old. Still, it was better than dealing with Dad.
Five minutes later, I was out of the bathroom. Threw on a black top, a black trousers and a black and white sneakers. I also wore a green hoodie ontop to compliment my outfit. I would've left it all black, but mom never liked it, even tho she was taken away too early, I never disobeyed her wishes. Okay maybe a little, a smile crept on my face not quite reaching my eye, I quickly wiped away the little drops in my eyes.
I stopped in front of the mirror. A bit of facial hair had started to grow under my chin, barely visible. I tied my dreadlock into a short pony tail. My black earrings caught the light . I stared at myself again. Not bad-looking, to be fair. And surprisingly, I hadn't been a victim of racism. Maybe it was the type of school I went to. The only discrimination there was based on money. Like it was even theirs. Those little twats didn't care about life, they just avoided anyone not in their circle of spoiled rich scums. I started getting angry again, staring at the mirror like I could change the world by glaring hard enough.
My mood shifted when my phone lit up. It was always on Do Not Disturb, not like I had real friends blowing me up. I picked it up. One notification. Instagram. My heart jumped. I already knew who it was. I tapped it open. The screen loaded straight to her message. She replied. I was texting a real-life Japanese girl. Always something I'd wanted to do. Even though they never usually responded unless they already knew You. One of the perks of being an anime debater. I had a few global contacts. One of them was a Japanese debater. A chill dude, mostly. Except when debates broke out. The moment a scaling argument came up, he'd start dropping manga panels like a lawyer defending a guilty client.
I'd once asked him to hook me up with one of his friends. Figured he forgot. But two days ago, he messaged me. And now here it was. I looked at the message "You're ShadowRebuttal, right?" "My friend gave me your details."
"My name is Sakura Takahashi. And yours?" I stared at the screen for a while, smiling.
It had been a while since I felt this kind of excitement. And even though I knew myself how I always lost interest eventually something about this felt... different. Sakura, huh?
I stared up at the ceiling. I wondered what kind of girl she'd turn out to be. Maybe the quiet or shy type.