involuntary love by COURAGE

1st to comment, nyc one.. luv can b found anywhere as far as ur heart is open 2 luv.. kuddos!

dats love for you bro

Hmmmmmmm......

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…episode 1. FLORA: “You what?” shrieked. Charity I winced and jerked the phone away from my ear. God knew I loved Charity like a sister but she never had been able to grasp the concept of an ‘inside voice’. “I said I can’t go tonight.” I repeated gently and glanced around to see if anyone was listening in on my conversation. Thankfully the nosy girl, kate, in the cubicle next to me was printing off a few things or she would have been hanging onto my every word. “Why the hell not?” she demanded. “Its Drinks ‘n Dares night, remember? We do it every second Tuesday of the month? You, me and beca all at a bar with little margaritas? What’s so special about this night that you can’t make it?” “I just might be busy tonight, that’s all.” I lied. In truth I had a meeting with the boss in exactly five minutes, and if all went well I’d have a lot of paperwork to sort out…and possibly a new desk to do it behind. I was hoping that finally I could move up from the editing department and into journalism… the job I’d been wanting to do for just, oh, my entire life. But I couldn’t actually tell Charity this because A) I might not actually get the promotion and B) I knew Charity wouldn’t consider anything short of my apartment burning down reason for us to not have our monthly Drinks ‘n Dares night. And even then she’d probably insist we had margaritas in the firetruck. “flora,” she growled. “I happen to be your best friend-” I heard an indignant ‘hey!’ in the background “- so if there’s something going on could you at least tell me?” I sighed. “Charity, I swear. Next time I’m texting you.” Not that that would do much good of course. Charity was the receptionist for News in Nelson, where the three of us worked. All calls went through her and she could of course, call up any of us whenever she pleased. Something she did on a regular basis when business was slow. Not that Charity was lazy; in fact she was extra enthusiastic most of the time. She had a bubbly personality, a joke for every situation and a tongue that could race faster than Usane Bolt. But there were times when I wished she wasn’t quite so stubborn. Beca, on the other hand (my other best friend) was much too gentle for her own good. Naturally pretty, with her big brown eyes and Maori blood she was a firm believer in the ‘if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all’ theory. She worked down in the Photography Department and we always used her area for emergency gossip sessions because usually everyone was out on scheduled photo shots or other such. Anyway… On the other end of the phone Charity let out an indignant snort and began some defence that I never did hear the end of. That’s because partway through she got cut off by someone in the background – who I was assuming was beca – telling her to hand over the dang phone. That’s how I knew it had to be beca because, bless her heart, she had the potty mouth of a ninety-year old Methodist grandmother. Still, I heard snippets of argument before finally Kira’s voice was speaking down the line. “You okay hon’?” she asked softly. Beca never spoke any other way than softly, honest to God she would be my mum’s perfect daughter. “Because if you think you’re coming down with something we could come over to your place and have a girl’s night in. “I’m fine, beca, seriously.” I answered. But no matter how annoyed I might get with my friends, I knew they were only being nosey because they cared. And so reluctantly (because I didn’t want to count my chickens before they’d hatched and all) I told her that I was seeing my boss, Ms stella, about breaking out into the journalism side of the company. Ms stella was the manager of The Gilbourne Press building we worked in. She was the one that co-ordinated all the departments etc, and was consequently in charge of any promotions or department , I knew, would keep it in confidence without telling Charity. Afterall, if I got the job then I would explain and it’d be all sweet. And if she ignored my pleas once again well…let’s just say that the margaritas would be much needed. “Okay, we’ll talk to you later.” beca said. “See ya, flora” I smiled. “See ya.”.

tbc pls someone should help me invite more pple oh

Thanks for the invitation @COURAGE....9ice story here... But don't keep us waiting

@courage.. Tanks 4 d IV... Nice start.. Hun! But bros no drop 4 road.

Ayam hia!!!! Ride on! @swtharyomi @babe4biola @ikeholuwa1 @temmyjoy @Pheyisexy @Tiffany1 @sofia @steph @holaryinkhar

thanks @courage. nice one,

Nyc tori @COURAGE

Thank dearie @tenniebenson

Fanx ma sweerie @tenniebenson am here

Tanx@tenniebenson This episode1 na introduction o.waiting 4 the episode 2 sha.

All about love sha following nd thanks @courage

@tennie benson tnks 4 d invite

@Tenniebenson tnkz 4 d mention

Ya'll welcome

thnks ooo @courage and @tenniebenson

Wow! dats nyc, it all started lyk a poem sha, buh alas! twas a story.. tenks 4 d invite @COURAGE pls ride on.

Once I had hung up I glanced at my watch: four-forty. Time for my meeting. I shut my laptop, stood and headed out of the Editing Department. Perpetual, the head of department, raised an eyebrow at me on the way out. She was a stickler for hard work ethic and didn't believe in people leaving their cubicles except to use the printer or the bathroom. I got the feeling her last job was a prison matron. I mouthed 'Meeting with Ms stella' and she nodded and so I continued on out. Although she did roll her eyes too…not a very encouraging sign. But of course this wasn't my first meeting with the boss about moving me up to journalism. Over the last five years working here this would have to be the….seventh, yes the seventh time I'd asked her about it. Hopefully though this would be the last. Fingers crossed. Ms stella's office was on the floor above mine (reception and meetings on the ground floor, photography and design on first, editing and advertising on second, and then journalism and the boss's office up on the top along with her own private meeting room. The Printing factory was located a few blocks away on the edge of the city but all next few days' paper designs always went by email.) and though I could have taken the elevator I had too much nervous energy for that and took the stairs instead, hoping it would calm my nerves. But by the time I reached Ms stella's office I was still just as nervous…and a few minutes late. Still, I stole I few moments to calm my breath and brush imaginary lint off my skirt. Then I squared my shoulders and entered the boss's office. Ms stella was, of course, sitting behind her large and somewhat imposing desk. In fact I'd never actually seen her anywhere other than behind it. It just seemed a part of her. Just as her iron grey hair, cruelly pulled back into a ruthless chignon and her matching grey pantsuit where a part of her usual demeanour. She had a tendency to fire and then hire back employees in fits of temper, and she was even stricter about tardiness than perpetual was. Nothing happened at News in Nelson without Ms stella knowing about it. So if you happened to be late… beware. But she was also the kind of boss who insisted you call her by her first name, stella, and wore plum coloured lipstick and scarves more suited to Rio than the South Island. So sometimes it was a little like walking on eggshells around her, and most times more than a bit confusing. Ms stella, sitting behind her giant desk nodded to the seat in front of her desk, indicating for me to take a seat. I smiled and sat on the edge of my – very uncomfortable – seat. Don't look nervous flora, I told myself. There's nothing to be scared of. Remember, she can smell fear. "flora," she smiled. "I figured it was about time for another of our little chats." I nodded, trying to take offense at the 'little chats' part. "Then I guess you know what I'd like to talk to you about," I started. "Working as a journalist I mean." She gave me a knowing look. "I do flora. But like I told you before, it just isn't going to happen." "But Ms stella-" "Please." She interrupted. "Just call me stella" "…stella." I amended. "The thing is that I really, really want this job and I know I'd be great at it-" "I know you would." "Then why won't you give me a chance?" I asked, my frustration getting the better of me. "When Georgia Michaels was on maternity leave I managed her work and my own for more than four months! You know that I can do the job well, and I'm more than qualified. It's what I went to Uni for!" "I know you're qualified." She nodded in a sickeningly calm manner. She just sat there behind her large desk with her just-call- me-Juniper attitude but she didn't even seem to listen to what I had to say. "It more than that though," I paused, trying to put it in a way she'd understand. "I've wanted to be a journalist since I could hold a pencil, it's been my aspiration my whole life, what I studied for, what I've worked for. And I'm not saying that the last five years of being an editor haven't been nice but the point is that I really think I've shown you that I'm capable and qualified and that it's time I moved up." "I know all that." "Then why won't you let me?" I begged. TBC

Episode 3 She smiled and shook her head a little, like I was a small child getting too big for my breeches. "flora," she said gently. "I don't need any more journalists. Every Tom, Dick and Harry comes here insisting that they're the next hot thing and that I should hire them to be their next journalist. But you know what?" "What?" I answered robotically. "I turn most of them away." She said apologetically. "I have no need for superfluous employees and frankly flora, I need you where you are. You're a fantastic editor, one of my best actually. I simply can't afford to lose you to the Journalist Department when I know you're more valuable in Editing." I sighed. She never got it. She was never going to get it. "Frankly…you're just better suited to editing." And with that she nodded to the door, indicating our conversation was over. I walked mechanically out the door and back to my own department, trying not to look at the Journalism area, the place I wanted to be. But the whole time Wilshire's words were echoing round my head 'better suited to editing'. Honestly. To me, editors were people to sit in dusty cubicles typing at glaring screens all day long. I wanted to get out there. I wanted to be the one sniffing out the news and finding the next breaking story. But it was no use, I thought, as I trudged down the stairs to my own floor. She was never going to let me into journalism. And that meant one thing. Margaritas. Lots of margaritas. And by the time I'd received a very smug look from perpectual, resisted pulling a rude gesture at her and been pestered to no end my nosy neighbour kate about where I was, what I'd been doing, and 'did she give me the job this time?' I was ready to explode. I plonked my frustrated butt in my seat and dialled 1 to get the receptionist. "Hello, this is the News in Nelson office, charity speaking. How may I help you?" "Hey Charity," I said, grinning dryly. "About that Drinks 'n Dares night? Count me in…"

am soory guys for not posting last night pls accept my apologies

m here tanks @@tenniebenson u re mouthed

Nice story

tnx @Tenniebenson ur a darling*muah*

nyc tori Courage

Am here tenx@COURAGE

Tnkz @COURAGE nice story u've gat..plz don't ki us waiting.

Loving d story... 5years! Cnt she search 4 anoda? Atleast 2 acquire her dreams....

Tanks nd nyc one@courage

Tnkzz already hEre @ciyke

Episode 4 Ciyke: "Dude. What?" vic barked. His American accent always became more pronounced when he was irritated.(having spent 9 months in the states doing his masters) "I can't go tonight." I sighed, "And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me dude!" "Dude, this is the semi- finals! and an El clasico he continued, completely ignoring me. Barcelona versus Real madrid. You have to watch it. I've got all our mates coming over, packs of beer, an epic football match. What more could you want?" I rolled my eyes and stepped around victor(vic for short) (who happened to be blocking the hallway) to get to my office. I was hoping he would get the message but he stubbornly followed me. "How about peace and quiet for starters?" I asked sarcastically. But he ignored me, choosing instead to lean against my filing cabinet. Vic was my best mate. But sometimes I wondered why I kept him around. He was 6.1 feet of irritating Brit with sandy blonde-brown hair, blue eyes, more muscles than I had (unfortunately) and a penchant for calling me 'dude'. Annoying. Then again, he also had a weakness for women out of his league and firmly believed that someday they'd find a way to make nachos a dependent food source. Yeah right. "ciyke, you can't keep doing this. You have to have some kind of a social life." He straightened and eyed me determinedly. "You are going to have your cute little butt at my house by kick-off or I'll sic the boys on you. He followed me into my office and I plonked my 'cute little butt' into my swirly chair. "First of all, when did you turn gay?" I asked. "And second, get it through your thick skull. I'm not coming." He glared at me. "I am not gay. I'm stubborn." "Pig-headed." I snorted. He shrugged, "You say tomato, I say tomato." "Doesn't change anything." "Dude, the point is that you've been out drinking by yourself every friggin night since Laura-" he broke off looking uncomfortable. "What?" I demanded. "Ripped my heart out and fed it to my dog? My dog that she took with her by the way." "No…well, yeah, but I wasn't going to put it like that." Now he looked really uncomfortable. "Oh yeah?" I asked dryly. "How would put it?" He shrugged, "That you and her didn't exactly see eye to eye on the whole 'marriage issue', what with her being a commitment- phobe and all… and dumped you?" "Like yesterday's trash." "Okay, okay mister wise guy." He harrumphed. "Enough with all the analogies." I opened up my laptop went straight to coolval22.com and was already reading cassandra which reflects my story and ignored him. He still didn't get the message however and decided that he would rather stick around to annoy me. Lucky me. Not. "So what are you going to do? Sit around some bar all night and get drunk trying to forget her?" I shot him a fake- sanguine smile, "Why not? It's worked well so far." "Dude, she left you six monthsago." I fixed my attention on my screen. "You're supposed to drown your sorrows in beer and all that stuff and then move on. I mean, I know you guys were together for like, four years or something-" "Five. We were together for five years." I didn't look up from the screen. "Four, five, whatever. I know you're heartbroken, and I'm trying not to be insensitive, but it's not healthy. All this drinking alone is bad for your social life and bad for your liver." He waved his hands in front of my screen trying to get my attention. "And you're going to end up getting mugged!" I blew out an irritated breath. "Look, if you like you can call me in the morning to see that I'm still alive. Happy?" "Do I look like your mother?" We stared each other down. "On second thought." He held a hand up. "Don't answer that." There was a pause. "Okay, I'll call you in the morning." He said. "And you better not get mugged." vic – thank God – headed for the door. But of course it was too good to be true. Before he got all the way out though he turned back. "Dude. Just for the record…I never liked Laura."

Following

Episode 5 "Dude." I mimicked. "You adored her. You worshipped her. You thought she was the best thing since they put that little breakfast bar thing in the employee lounge." He pointed a finger at me and said, "Not true, dude. The little breakfast bar has bagels. I love bagels. They're second only to nachos; nachos should be a dependent source of food. Seriously, I'm telling you dude-" "Stop calling me dude!" I grumbled. "You know you love it." He grinned. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out." He flipped me a gesture I happen to know his mum, Mrs Jecinta would not approve of. But he did leave me alone. For some reason though, the silence wasn't as comforting as I'd hoped. Afterall, it was almost five. Soon it'd be time to knock off work. And where would I be? Knocking back vodka in another random bar, with that stupid engagement ring still burning a hole in my pocket. I pulled it out for a second and twirled it in my finger, making the diamonds and sapphires shine in the light. But I stuffed it back in my pocket again. I knew I should take it out, or sell it or do something but I couldn't seem to make myself get rid of it. Much in the way that I couldn't make myself go home to my empty apartment every night…knowing that she wasn't there anymore. And she never would be. I stretched, "vic worries too much." I told myself. "Besides, what's the craziest thing that could happen?"tbc

Episode6 "I really don't get why you're so over the moon about yorubas" Kira laughed. "I mean what about igbo guys or those hausas? " She raised her glass with a grin and we all followed suit. "Yeah Carla," I smiled. "Why don't you like hausas?" She took another sip of her margarita, "Firstly, igbos have way more class. And thirdly, I can't help who I like. I just happen to have a weakness for Italians." "And fad diets and yoga instructors and actors," I muttered. "And don't forget that blonde guy who works with you-" She mock-glared at me, "His name is ciyke and if I have a weakness for him it's only because he does that thing when he's concentrating really hard and he looks all hot and serious and-" "Okay." beca smiled. "Enough information." The three of us had decided to have our Drinks 'n Dares night at a little bar that one of beca's colleges in photography had recommended, and so far it was going good. It was a nice little place, a blue paint job, dark wooden tables and bar and well, all in all your average bar. But it was clean, the staff were quick and there didn't seem to be any random drunks in the corner. Though I did spy a few individuals at the bar who seemed to be drinking their way into forgetting. But unlike the unfortunates at the bar all our margaritas were non- alcoholic. We didn't need alcohol to have a good time. We were just fine on our own, giggling like maniacs and earning a few admiring looks in our clubbing dresses. Of course, the only really pretty one of us was beca. But anyway. I was wearing a short, tight-fitting number covered in gold sequins and had my hair up in curls stuck through with fake crème flower pins. Charity was wearing a loose red halter top and extremely short short- shorts with her signature high heels. Charity had a pair of shoes for every occasion. And every single pair of those shoes were ridiculously high and mostly hard to walk in. It never stopped her though. Beca on the other hand was wearing a layered floaty black dress that was see-through in certain areas and managed to draw all the male's attention to her nicely tanned legs. "Okay," Charity clapped her hands together. "Enough about my weaknesses. Let's do what we came here to." "We've done the drinking…" beca added. "…Time for the dares." Charity finished. We giggled. Over the years we'd developed the Drinks 'n Dares night, because A) When you work at News in Nelson you really need the margaritas, B) Because it made us feel like our lives weren't completely boring and C) Because drinks and dares had to go together. Otherwise you didn't have enough courage to go on. Even though our drinks didn't actually make us drunk…I guess it was just psychological courage. "So who's first?" I asked eagerly. "I have a few dares I want to dish out." And they all involved mini umbrellas. Flora's smile turned on me, "How about you then? Bec, what are we going to make her do?" beca rested her chin on her hands and leaned forward, studying me. Then they both scanned the bar. While they did I allowed myself a moment of nervous anticipation. The dares at drinks night often ran from kissing busboys or flirting with ministers to pretending to be a world-renowned tap- dancer from abuja or seeing how many olives you could fit in your mouth at once. Once Charity and I had dared beca flirt with this random guy in only yoruba (in which she was fluent). She had to resort to using hand gestures so that he could understand what he was on about. It had been hilarious. She'd still gotten his number though. The only rules for Drinks 'n Dares night were: no nudity, nothing heavier than kissing, nothing really mean and nothing that could land you in hospital. Although we had ended up in jail once by mistake. Long story… Finally beca's eyes locked on something and she turned and whispered in charity's ear. They both giggled and nodded. "Okay, see the cutie over there at the bar?" they nodded to the bar. "Which one?" "The one sitting by himself…over to the right." beca murmured, as to not attract suspicion. "What does he look like?" I asked, casually scanning the area like I was checking out the Wine & Spirits menu. "He's got brown hair, a dark blue jacket." Charity pointed discreetly with the mini umbrella from her margarita. "Looks like he's drinking vodka or something." I finally spotted him and turned back to the girls like I'd decided I didn't feel like wine and spirits afterall. With a small smile I nodded to them, indicating I'd seen him. "Little bit of a hottie aye?" Charity giggled. Beca rolled her eyes, "Anyway, you're situation: storm over there and pretend that you're his girlfriend that he blew off. Just make it loud lets see what happens next

Oh oh

Ohhh hooooo.....letz wait n c wat apn next....

I am in.......

waitin.. What next.

Cul

Episode 7&8 "This is going to be fun to watch." Charity smiled. "Situation understood." I winked at the two of them and without another word I stood, pushing my chair in behind me and headed over to the bar. From behind I couldn't help but agree with Charity. He was indeed a bit of a hottie. He was sitting at a bar stool with his head hung low over his own personal group of empty vodka shot glasses. It looked like he was really having a bad day. For a moment I felt guilty about causing a scene and involving him. But once you take up a dare its Girl Law that you have to complete it. And no way was I going to break Girl Law. He probably wouldn't even remember this tomorrow. So I tapped him roughly on the shoulder and waited for him to turn around. With a little delay he finally looked over his shoulder and eyed me questioningly. For the second time that night I almost had a change of heart, yes, his shirt was wrinkled beyond compare a yes, his eyes didn't seem to be completely focused, but there really was no denying it. The man was hot. Not just a cutie but an A-class hottie. With ruffled dark brown hair, grey eyes and cheekbones I could cut myself on I was left speechless for a moment. But I quickly pulled myself together. "Who the hell do you are mister?" I asked viciously. He blinked and glanced behind him, as if I might be talking to someone else. He pointed to himself and made a cute drunk face of surprise that made me wish I had a camera. But I didn't crack a smile. "Yeah you." I continued, glaring at him. "Who the hell do you think you are? You think I'm just another push-over? We dated for a year. I thought that would mean something to you! And then you just blow me off without even a break-up text? You get your friends to say you don't feel like seeing me anymore?" "Uh, miss?" his cute drunk-face had been replaced with confused drunk-face. "I think you have the wrong g-" "Excuse me? EXCUSE ME?" I shouted, glaring at him so hard it made my face hurt. "Now you're pretending you don't KNOW me? What the HELL?! After EVERYTHING we've been through. After everything I did for you? I was in love with you! Completely." My shouting had drawn a bit of attention from the other bar's occupants. Good, I thought to myself. Beca wanted it to be loud. "But-" "You had me wrapped around you're little finger." I spat. "I would have done ANYTHING you said. But not any friggin more. GOT IT? I am SO over you. You jackass." And in a fit of dramatic-ness I slapped him, hard across the face. That drew more than a bit of attention to our little fight. A quick glance around told me that most of the tables around us were staring. Most of them were looking at Mr Hottie like he was something they'd scraped off their shoe. A few even called things like 'You tell him girl' and 'Jerk!' Someone even had their iPhone out to video the scene. I risked a look at Charity and becaa. Charity looked like she was about to explode from giggles and even Beca was hiding a small smile. Just to finish off I turned back to my mystery man who was clutching his face. It looked like my slap had imparted some sobriety back to him. Thinking back on it that had probably been too far. He was looking less drunk and more mad by the second. Opps. Time to wrap this up. "I am done with you." I glared. "Someday you'll realise how amazing we could have been together, but by then I'll be long gone. So enjoy your newfound single status, enjoy your vodka and enjoy a life free of the best thing that ever happened to you. Have a nice life." This time I turned by back, flipped my hair over my shoulder and went to strut back to my table with Charity and becaa. A few people nodded encouragingly to me and yelled things like 'Better off without him girl' and I smiled at them. But before I could take a step away a hand grabbed my wrist from behind and pulled me back. My Mr Hottie was on his feet and glaring at me with one eyebrow raised as if to say 'what the hell?' He pulled on my wrist so that I came closer. "Just what are you doing?" he hissed. "I don't even know you." "I-" "And don't start with any more of that bull." He whispered. "I think I would remember dating someone like you. What's your game?" I glanced back over my shoulder at Charity and beca who looked a little anxious. Beca hurriedly gestured for me to hurry back to them. Charity made a fist and mimed punching an imaginary foe. I looked back at Mr Hottie and shrugged helplessly. His brow furrowed as he glanced at me and then my friends and then back at me. His frown deepened. "Are you on a dare?" he hissed. Okay…so apparently vodka didn't dull this fella's sharpness. He'd taken all of two seconds to put it together. I shrugged again and tried at a smile. He surveyed me in a speculating manner and let go of my wrist. "Two can play at that game." He whispered with a mischievous smile. Wait…what? "You're right!" he yelled suddenly. I almost jumped, and a quick glance around told me that we had once again captured everyone's attention. "Um…I am?" "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me." He said sincerely. Without warning he grabbed my hands again. Cupping them to his chest he pulled me towards him. "I took you for granted because I was just too scared to admit how deeply I was falling for you." "You were?" He nodded, "This last week I've been doing a lot of soul searching and I've come to realise that I don't want to spend the rest of my life without you." "You don't?" "No." he said gently. He smiled and stroked a lock of hair back behind my ear. "I love you so much and I think we can still be amazing together…if you'll give me a second chance." Was it just me or did I hear swooning? My former victim reached into his pocket and dug around for something while I cast desperate 'help me' looks back at Charity and beca. They both looked as if they'd swallowed their tongues. I turned back to my mister mysterious who had found what he was looking for in his pants' pocket. When I saw what he was holding towards me I almost swallowed my tongue myself. A ring. A very pretty ring, but very clearly an engagement ring. Say what? I leaned close to him and hissed, "What do you think you're doing?" "You tell me." He grinned sardonically, hitting me with a wave of de alcohol. "You're the one that loves to prank people. Let's see how you like it." "That is not the same." I whispered. "I didn't-" "She said YES!" he cried suddenly, angling away from me. "What?" I gasped. "I-" He pulled me flush against him to prevent further argument. All around us people broke out in applause and cat calls. The barman behind us asked if we'd like a bottle of champagne to celebrate. I barely registered my mystery man accepting and paying for the bottle. I was in shock. I even allowed him to slide the ring onto my finger. I was that surprised. My only reaction was a small wince as the small ring pinched around me finger. How the heck did this happen? I'd started out trying to prank him and now I was engaged to him. My mum would kill me if she knew. "Uh…excuse us." I heard Charity say from behind me. "But I think there's been a mistake." "Ah," Mr Mystery smiled, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other. "You must be my fiancé's friends. Lovely to meet you. I'm Ciyke Winters, but my friend's call me ciyke." Then he bestowed Charity and becaa with what could only be described as a dashing smile. One glance over my shoulder told me that both of my would-be rescuers were stunned by his charming introduction. Beca's eyebrows had practically hit the ozone layer and I could see the thought bubble forming over Charity's head: Ciyke passed me the champagne and held a hand out to shake each of their hands in turn. They did so with what could only be called a simper. That's when I knew that they'd be no help getting me out of this situation. They were as stumped as I was by ciyke's roguish charm. Surveying him again I had to admit he had the looks for it. Just because he happened to be completely hammered didn't mean that he had lost an iota of attractiveness. It made me wonder what he was like when he was sober. If he could be this devious even with copious amounts of vodka in his system then it made me wonder how devious he was without vodka involved. Hmmm, I wonder if he's a politician? I didn't get a chance to ask him as he pulled me up onto a bar stool next to him and proceeded to pour me a glass of champagne. I had rather hoped that things might quieten down after his big announcement but unfortunately things just seemed to be getting crazier. The music pouring out of the bar's speaker system changed mid song to something vaguely familiar. It was only once the music started that I realised what it was: ' I think I want to marry you' by Asa. The bartender winked at us and I groaned. Without warning I grabbed the glass Ciyke had offered me and chugged it back in one sitting. I wasn't going to survive this evening without alcohol. Things started happening very quickly after that. I started chugging back glass after glass of champagne while trying to ignore Jon's repeated romantic attempts to learn my name. The crowd that had cheered for my 'engagement' were quick to hit the dance floor and began what looked surprisingly like a mosh pit. Not that there was a dance floor but apparently these people were taking matters into their own hands. Becaa and Charity were standing next to me but no sooner had I registered their worried expressions than they were pulled away into the crowd to dance. I chugged back another glass of champagne and glanced back as they tried to get to of it and get back to me. Unsuccessfully of course. Why did everyone in this bar have to be a crazy romantic? "Oh come on," Ciyke teased me from the seat next to me. "Won't you tell me what your name is?" he placed his hand over mine. "We are engaged after all." I studiously ignored him and concentrated on my champagne. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore a man that was so devilishly good looking. I had been a while since I'd had any kind of attractive male interested in me remotely…I'd only had a few boyfriends over the years and none of them had ever been very serious. Boys just didn't go for me. Still, my dating life was better than Charity. Bleakly I realised that my mind was wandering. I looked back at Ciyke who was eying me with a contemplating look that I didn't trust one bit. "What is it?" I asked. "Do I have something on my face?" Ignoring my question he smiled at me again, "Its Sandra isn't it?" "What?" "You're name." He explained. "It's sandra isn't it? That would explain why you don't want me to know." "It's not sandra!" "Grift?" "No." I sighed. "Clarence?" "Nope." "Are you sure?" "No." I said through gritted teeth. "Wait, I mean yes, no, urgh. I mean that yes I am sure. It's not Clarence." There was a moment of silence. "Mike?" I let out a strangled moan of frustration and downed the rest of my glass of champagne before downing Ciyke's too. It was like if I drank enough of the wonderfully bubbly liquid I could suppress my irritation over ciyke "Will you tell me if I ask nicely?" he asked after watching in amusement as I guzzled the drinks. "Will you shut up if I tell you?" "…Probably." Since otherwise I'd probably go crazy I put on my best smile. "Yes then." "Okay then what's your name, pretty please?" "It's flora Jackson." I said with forced pleasantness. "Pretty name." he said. "Nuh uh!" I warned. "You said you wouldn't say anything!" He mimed zipping his mouth closed, locking it and throwing away the key. Once he'd stopped being so annoying I let out the pent-up frustration and allowed myself to ogle him. He really was drop-dead gorgeous. But after a moment I had to squint at Jon. For some reason there seemed to be two of him. "Did you get a twin?" I asked in confusion. He looked at me in equal confusion. "I think you've had too much to drink." He told me and holding onto my elbow he tried to steer me out of my seat. For a second both of us stumbled. "Then again, maybe I'm not the best one to comment on that." "You could be right." I slurred, as the room spun. I reached for my clutch bag and tried not to be deterred when I managed to miss it the first few times. "I think I need t-to get home." "Right-y-o." he smiled. "Where do you live?" "As if I'd tell yooou." I took a step forward and tripped, finding myself somehow with my head buried in Jon's chest. "Oppsy. How did t-that happen?" He steadied me, "Yep, you've definitely had too much to drink." I laughed because somehow what he'd just said was hilarious. "Like you can talk." I said, tapping him on the nose. "Okay, time to get you outta here." He said. "Do you know where you're friends went?" "Nope." I giggled. "This is all your fault." He smiled down at me. "Looks like you're crashing at my place then, my dear flora." "I don't know if that's a good idea." I murmured sleepily against his chest. "When I'm sooober I'd probably kick your ass for that." "Don't have much of a choice." I smiled to myself. But the rest of the night was a bit of a blank…

Lolz..interesting dares..letz see wah she can do.

U don enter am

Am waiting to see wat really happen

EpiSode 9 I knew something was wrong before I even opened my eyes. Not because of my throbbing temples though. It wasn't the fact that the bed I was lying in was most definitely not mine, either. (I could tell because my bed was doubly cursed with being small and lumpy and this bed was neither). It was the presence of a large naked man lying in bed next to me realise that something was very definitely not right. Cracking open one eye I immediately winced and shut it again. Wherever I was there didn't seem to be curtains. Consequently the glaring morning light was making my eyes water. Preparing myself I opened my eyes and lifted my head of the bed. The look around confirmed my suspicions. I was so not in my own apartment. I wasn't even in Charity or Beca's apartment. I was in a large bedroom with faded crème wallpaper and a varnished wooden floor. The furniture in the room consisted of the king size bed I was lying in, a large desk against the opposite wall and a book shelf that ran along the entire left wall. On the right wall was a small set of French doors leading to a very small balcony. The balcony was only large enough for two outdoor chairs and a person to stand and admire the view, but it was enough. I'd found the culprit. That was where all the light was coming from. I sat up, with every intention of getting out of bed and closing the curtains. But next to me the large naked man groaned and reached out for me. I froze and as quietly and gently as I could, lifted the blanket up and eased onto the floor. He didn't move. I breathed a sigh of relief. "This is bad." I muttered, standing still next to the bed. "This is very, very bad." Because looking at the man in the bed next to me had made me remember the event of last night. Or most of them anyway. Charity, beca and I had been out at our monthly Drinks 'N Dares night…and then I'd accepted a dare? Yes. I'd been dared to pretend to be some guy's ex…ciyke's ex. But then he'd… What had he done? I rubbed my fists against my eyes, trying to rub the sleep out of them. But something scraped against my eyelid causing me to wince. "Ow." I grumbled. "What the-" I stopped dead. Because the object scraping me was a ring. An engagement ring. The engagement ring that he had given me. Oh God. I groaned as the rest of the night came flooding back to me. I'd gotten engaged to ciyke, a guy I didn't even know. This would absolutely kill my mum. And if my family knew my dad would absolutely kill ciyke. Good thing they lived a few hours away from Nelson. There was no need for them to know anything. Right. Carefully I looked around the room. My heels were scattered next to the bed and my clutch bag was sitting on his table. I grabbed both and turned to leave…but stopped and looked back at him. Jon still looked as incredibly attractive as I remembered…but had I actually slept with him? I mean, sure I was drunk but still. I had strong moral beliefs when it came to things like that. I didn't think that a bit of alcohol would override that. Or would it? Oh my god…what if it had? What if I'd slept with him? Frowning, I looked down at my dress. If I had done something untoward I wouldn't be fully dressed still. And although I was shedding gold sequins everywhere I was without a doubt still dressed. "Thank god." I said to myself. "Honey?" Jon grumbled from on the bed. I squealed and ducked down so that he wouldn't see me. I heard rustling of sheets and then twin thuds as he hopped out of bed. On the outside I was frozen to the spot but inside my brain was racing at a million miles an hour. What would I do? How would I get out of this? Ciyke finally appeared around the bed and glared down at me. "Hey, how did you get in here?" he demanded. "Who are you?" Very serious situation this. Unfortunately all I could think was 'Thank God he's wearing a trouser'. And he was. He had apparently just taken off his shoes and shirt and crashed in his trouser. Yay! He wasn't naked! So we almost definitely didn't do anything and- "I asked you a question." He frowned, taking a step towards me. "Who are you?" "Well I'm flora, flora Jackson. So nice to meet you." I snipped sarcastically. "And you are?" He looked a little taken aback, "I'm, um, ciyke." "There a last name with that um-Jon?" I asked sweetly. He glared, "Winters. Not that you'll be repeating it any time soon. How did you get in here?" I stood and frowned right back at him. "Excuse me?" I asked. "You brought me here.

Episode 10 "What?" he said, momentarily confused. Then his face hardened. "I wouldn't do that." "Why not? You're male." I lifted an eyebrow. "Besides, it wasn't for… that. You were drunk and I, um, annoyed you so you pretended to propose to me to get back at me." "Uh-huh." Scepticism didn't even begin to cover what his face was expressing. "It's true." I insisted. "But then we both got a bit drunk and you brought me back here to crash." "That's the stupidest story I've ever heard." He said, crossing his arms over his front. "I think I would remember that." "Well maybe if you hadn't drunken your weight in vodka you might have had a little more clarity of mind." I snapped. He just shot me a look. "Seriously it's true." I sighed. Jeez he was frustrating. "Look if you don't believe me how do I have this?" I stuck my hand out at him. The sun sparkled off the engagement ring he'd given to me. He sucked his breath in between his teeth. "How did you get that?" he demanded. "I told you I-" "Okay I've had enough of this." He growled. "I don't care what kind of scam you're running or what your angle is but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Now." "I'd be more than happy to." I glared. "But for your information this whole situation, yeah, it's your fault. So don't blame me and don't you dare call me a liar." Then I pushed past him and headed for the door. "Hey!" he called. "Aren't you forgetting something?" "Arghh!" I turned back to him. "What now?" He pointed at my hand and I rolled my eyes. The ring. Of course. I glared at him and pulled at it. But it wouldn't budge. I pulled again, yanking at it in my attempt to get it off. Still nothing. Okay, I was getting a little alarmed now. Frowning at the ring I pulled with all my strength. It didn't move an inch. "What's wrong?" "It won't come off!" "What?" He stepped closer and eyed it. "It has to come off!" "I'm going to need to go to the emergency room." I said in a panic. "I saw on some show that they can cut rings off and-" "No!" he all but shouted. "That ring is an antique, not to mention a family heirloom. We can't cut it off." "Then get me some soap or something!" I ordered him. "Its precious metal!" he glared at me. "It's basically priceless and unless you didn't get it. It's very, very, very old. You can't use anything other than water around this." "Well then it's a pretty useless ring then isn't it?!" "Hey, don't insult my ring!" "I'll insult it all I like until you get it off my damn finger!" "I'd like to let you-" Suddenly a very different kind of ring interrupted us. hE glared at me for a second more before picking up his phone off his desk. He flipped it open and growled a 'hello' into it while still glaring at me. I huffed and stood hands on hips trying not to look anywhere near the English doors. The light was killing me. I hadn't had this bad a hangover since I graduated from Uni. That was probably around when Charity and, beca and I swore off drink and got really into non-alcoholic margaritas. "What?" Ciyke said into his phone. "Vic? Yeah it's me…what? No I didn't get mugged…not exactly…I do not sound weird…I told you not to call me dude!" I raised an eyebrow at the half of the conversation I could hear. He sighed and looked away from me. "Look it's a bit of a long story…no, I'll tell you later… hey, it's too early for insults buddy…what do you mean it's eleven? I never sleep in that long…okay so I was drinking but come on, it's Wednesday. I don't start work until ten…well it's never caused a problem before…yeah so last night was a little different…" he eyed me and the ring uncomfortably. It took me a minute but I realised he probably thought I was going to run off with his family heirloom or something. Yeah right. I didn't want his ring and I never had. He kept on talking but something he'd said was niggling at me. What was it? "I said I didn't get mugged!" he growled. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair making it even more rumpled. "Just page Richard and tell him I had a family emergency and I'm going to be late into work… yeah I know I'm already late for work. I'll get there when I can…what are you my mother?…and don't call me dude!" Suddenly I realised what it was that was bothering me. "Oh my god, did you say it was eleven?" I hissed. "I'm so, so, so late for work." "Nope. There's nobody else here vic." Ciyke said quickly. "You didn't hear anybody." "I'm supposed to start at eight thirty!" I shrieked. "PerpetuAl is going to fire me on the spot!" "Sorry Vic got to go." I tried to push past Ciyke but he stopped me. "Oh no." he said. "You aren't leaving here with that ring. With my luck you'll probably be in a pawn shop within five minutes." "I'd have to get it off first and in case you hadn't noticed it's stuck." I reminded him. "I only have your word for that." He moved to block the door again as I stepped to slide past him. "Well I'd offer to let you have a go at it but I'm afraid I really have to go." I said as calmly as possible. "I have to get home change and then see if I still have a job and-Oh no! I haven't fed my cat!" "Of course she has a cat." He dropped his head into his hand. "Could this day get any worse?" "And my friends must be going nuts worrying about me!" I flipped out my phone, which I'd had on vibrate. Sure enough there were over twenty messages from the two of them asking where I was and if I was okay and threatening to send out search parties. I quickly texted them back that I was okay and that if Charity (who was a receptionist) could call perpetual to tell her I was having a family emergency but would be there as soon as possible I'd owe her forever. When I looked up Vic was still glaring at me. "Look." I said tightly. "I'll see a jeweller as soon as possible and post it back to you-" seeing his face twist in outrage I backtracked "-okay I'll drop it off personally. Whatever. I really need to go now." He looked away for a moment before sighing and looking back at me. "Fine." He grunted. "On one condition. You have to give me an address or something so that if you don't get it back to me I can contact you." I was about to protest but he shot me a look and so I relented. "Fine." I grabbed a blank piece of paper and a pen from his desk and scrawled out the address for the News in Nelson building. "This is where I work, Monday to Friday." I held it out to him. He snatched the paper away, "Thank you." I shoved my clutch bag under my arm and hopped on one foot trying to pull on my shoe. Unfortunately it was one of those shoes with lots of tricky little buckles that you need nails to do up. I'd had to have Charity do them up for me because I couldn't manage them. They were fine to get off though, as shown by the fact that he must have taken them off for me. He eyed me for a minute before sighing, "Here look, let me help you." "I'm fine." I insisted while he bent down to help me with my shoe. "If you'd just let me-" "I'm fine." I repeated. I dodged his hand and tried to do it up myself. His hand finally captured my foot and he tried to help me do the buckle up. I stood still for about three seconds before deciding that having his warm hands all over my ankles wasn't a good thing. It was just reminding me of how devilishly handsome he was. And then there was the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt… "I said I was fine!" I pulled my foot out of his grasp and snatched my shoes away. He straightened and shaking my head I pushed past him and ran out the door. I barely had time to register a very empty looking open plan living room and kitchen before I got to what I thought was the main door. I yanked it open. Nope. Closet. I went to the next door and thankfully this one opened to a hallway. I skedaddled out of there as quickly as possible, still barefoot and still utterly embarrassed. I made my way to the end of the hallway where elevator was stationed. Hopping in I pushed 'lobby' and thanked my lucky stars that no one else was about. As the elevator doors closed on me I looked up in time to see him. He was leaning against the doorway of his apartment and looking at me with a face I couldn't describe. But the doors closed and I slumped against the elevator wall. I got the feeling this was going to be a very long day…

Oh!!! Dis is going to grow into something big!!

Ummmm........

Plzzzz cum post d next oooo

Following...

Oga @COURAGE y d delay nao?

Plz wia ar yu? @ciyke

@writer, No more update ni...???

Oh God! Dis story is interestn!! Pls drop d next

@ciyke. U ar keeping us waiting sweerie

come do justice to dis story nao!

Pls come continue d story nao

Am sorry 4 de No update. I had a problem pc xo it had to go for maintanace. Pls Episode11 It was a day that ultimately was destined to go from bad to worse. Not only did the gateman think I was some kind of hooker (which with last night's make up, the short dress and bare feet I could kind of understand) and throw me out of his, and I quote, 'fine establishment, much too classy for common prostitutes' but the cab fare back to my side of Nelson was ridiculous. I finally got back to my flat and the doddery old lady next door to me wanted to chat and I was pretty sure I (accidentally) really offended her in my attempt to postpone our chat for another time. I didn't have time for a shower so I just had to scrape of last night's makeup and attempt a quick touch up. Hastily dressed in a pale pink shirt, black pencil skirt and sensible black shoes I had to manage my hair into something that resembled something other than a bird's nest. And after feeding my cat, and grabbing a yoghurt for what could barely be considered breakfast I hightailed it back out of there and had to catch the bus to the stop nearest my work. By the time I actually reached my work place (running from the bus stop to the News in Nelson building took five minutes alone) it was past twelve and I was getting visions of me having to dance on street corners to earn money. Not that that would ever happen because Nigeria, unlike some countries, actually has a decent welfare system and also because my mum would never let a child of hers starve when they could be staying at home with her. But hey, I claim creative license. I crossed the lobby, waving to Charity, who was sitting behind the counter with a few other receptionists, and I mouthed 'I'll tell you later'. She mouthed back 'You better'. I took the elevator and with sweaty palms I made my way to my cubicle. But apparently fate had it in for me.

Wow! So interesting

So great

Episode 12 perpectual got to me before I could get to my seat, all crossed arms and raised eyebrows. "So what was this family emergency?" she demanded. "That is what you said was happening right?" "…Yes." I told her, trying to think on my feet. "Well you see, my brother…he had a…a heart attack. Yes, he had a minor heart attack and he needed me to take him to hospital." If lying was an illegal offence I would get life. All she had to do was ask around and she'd know that none of my brothers lived anywhere near Nelson. And besides…what heart attack is minor? I should just shoot myself. "Oh, seriously?" she asked, suddenly all concerned. "Is he all right?" "Yeah…the doctor said he's going to be fine. But he just needed someone there you know?" I said, continuing to pour out the lies. "Well I'm sorry for being grumpy." She said. "But in the future could you call and let us know when you're not going to be in for work?" "Sure. And sorry." I said and raced off to my seat as fast as possible. Except when I finally got to my cubicle I found that I couldn't sit there because there was some RANDOM MAN SITTING THERE! I almost jumped out of my skin before he spun around in the chair and I realised it was only ciyke. "Seriously? Sick brother, that's what you went with?" he asked. "How did you get in here?" I hyperventilated. "I let him in!" an oh-so- helpful voice chirped. "Ahh!" I jumped. I turned and sighed when I realised it was kate, my incredibly annoying and excessively eavesdropping neighbour. She was sticking her head up over her own cubicle and was beaming down at me with a smile that could only be managed by toddlers or the clinically brain-dead. Which one was she? That was anybody's guess. "Some random guy said he needed to get into my cubicle and you let him?" She nodded cheerfully. I glared at ciyke. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought it was weird too." "kate." I said with extreme patience. "Could you give ciyke and I a minute?"

We re still waiting 4 more

Interesting

Please this is a foreign story, stop converting it to a Nigerian story..its pretty confusing.

Waitinq 4 more epis

next pls

waiting...

No update

nxt nxt nxt

Is this the end of the story? I thought they said it's a completed story?