THE ILLUSION OF PERFECTION 4

Tayo stared at the screen of his phone, his thumb hovering, muscle taut with a hesitation he hadn't felt in years as the memory of their last conversation flooded his mind. It wasn't a fight, but an awkward parting of ways — a deafening silence neither of them ever cared to unsettle.

Tayo had just bought his first ridiculously priced item—a jacket he couldn't afford—and was showing it off to Nadia, his neighbor and friend. They were sitting at the park and she was busy sketching designs for a community art project.

 "Tayo, that’s... a nice EXPENSIVE looking jacket," Nadia had said barely glancing up at him. 

"It's a statement, Nads! It's branding! You gotta look how you wanna be addressed,"

 He'd scoffed, feeling superior and modern. Nadia finally looked up, her expression genuinely puzzled. 

"But what's the statement? That you have money? Tayo does your mum know you spent so much on a jacket?"

"My life my business Nads. Besides mum has finally moved in with her new husband...listen, this is the new, rebranded Tayo, you either get used to it or...you know what to do."

Just then his phone shrieked with the insistent, customized ringtone he reserved for his social circle—a grating, upbeat track, pulling him back to his reality. The screen lit up with the name "DEJI (VIP TABLE) and the spell was instantly broken. The memory of Nadia's dissappointed glare vanished, replaced by a sudden, hot flush of anxiety which surged through him.

Tayo answered the phone with a forced brightness, stepping back from the railing, his voice immediately shifting into his public persona—confident, rushed, and slightly breathless.

“Yo, Deji! What’s up? Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving now, just wrapping up.” 

He threw a casual glance at the terrace below, catching Nadia standing up. Her outfit, an oversized paint-splattered shirt made him grimace. She was completely absorbed and hadn't even looked up.

“What do you mean, where are you?" Deji’s voice was sharp, almost angry; "The reservation is in ten minutes, bro. You need to be there, like right now, if you still need that entry shot to make it look like you just rolled out of a meeting.” 

“Yes, yes” Tayo muttered, his eyes wide as he suddenly remembered that he had paid heavily for the choreographed content opportunity.

He jammed his phone between his shoulder and ear, grabbing his latest expensive blazer that was waiting for its big debut. 

He took one last, lingering look at Nadia, then turned and strode quickly back into the opulent, but ultimately empty, apartment.

“Be there in five, man. Don’t start without me,” Tayo said, hurriedly ending the call. 

Tayo practically ran for the door, the thought of his unpaid rent and the waiting photographer utterly eclipsing every genuine impulse the sight of Nadia had stirred. The old chat app with Nadia was forgotten, minimized and unsent, swept away by the urgent-screaming needs of his lifestyle. 

He had followers to impress, an image to maintain and no time for the past.

CONTINUE