Unexpected Desires

Being "good" is not a heritable trait. I don't believe so. I believe people have more good in them and others have more bad in them irrespective of who their parents are. Case study; me. My parents are the best people I know. I know a lot of people believe their parents are good and all that, but mine takes the cake. And the funny thing is that they're both good, kind people. Its not as if my mom forces my dad to do good or vice versa. They are actually on the same wavelength.

They organize different charity events, for orphans, widows, victims of marriages and so many I can't keep up with. And they don't just do all this for selfish reasons. They actually care. They want to help everybody. And that there is what I don't relate to. I can't be more opposite of them if I tried.

I don't like people, I don't help people. I'm mean, selfish, arrogant, greedy, the list goes on. Sometimes I do wonder if I'm the biological child of my parents. But then I remember that I look exactly like them. There's no way they're not my parents. But really, all the efforts my parents put in raising me to be a good son were all a waste. It didn't do shit. I was a wild child, I countered them for every little thing. I squandered their money, crashed their car, sold one of our houses and many others. The point of this rant is that I caused problems upon problems for my family.

And I did one again yesterday which landed me in this police cell. My mom refused to come bail me out and my dad chose not to even pick my call. I mean, its not really my fault a drunk idiot ran his mouth and couldn't back it up with his fist. Nothing, and I repeat, nothing makes me back off a fight.

So here I am after busting the nose of stupid in a prestigious bar, leaving him unconscious and landing me here. In a stupid cell. Its not as if its my first time in a cell, to many times to remember. I just think I don't deserve it. I don't deserve to sleep in a stinking cell that fucking smells like piss and vomit. Oh and I'm pissed at my parents, and my friend Gabe. They didn't fucking bail me out.

The sound of movement alerts me of the arrival of someone. I turn towards the entrance of the cell. A stupid looking policeman whose shirt seems to be struggling with his stomach walks in and motion for me to get up.

I roll my eyes and reluctantly got up.

"your father is here for you." He said in a high pitched Calabar accent.

So he finally decides to show after leaving me to stay here throughout the night. Irritation bubbles up and I fight hard to swallow it down or else I might end up doing something worse. The policeman turns to leave and I follow him out of the cell.

"I cant believe you Tobi. How can you still have the energy to misbehave. You're twenty-eight for Christ's sake. We keep hoping you'll change for the better then gbam! You do another one."

I ignore his pointless rant because if I answer him, things will plummet. The one thing i got on my mind is to get to my apartment to shower away the stink of that bloody cell. Everything can go to hell for all I care.

"please Tobi, change your ways. You're not getting any younger son. I wan- we want a good life for you son." He turns to look at me with sadness all over his face. " you're not creating a good name for yourself with all this stunts you keep pulling."

"fucking stunts?"

"watch your language when you're speaking to me young man" he bites out.

I don't give a fuck about his mortal inclination. "what do you mean stunts dad?" I fume. "someone fucking pisses me off you expect me to turn the other cheek? Not gonna bloody happen."

He sighs, exasperated. " you should learn to control your anger by now. People will always offend you, y-"

"then they'll always get what's coming for them"

"that won't take you far Tobi."

"watch me."

We pull up at my apartment and I was out the car before it fully stopped, not wanting to continue staying in a judgemental presence.

"please son, take care and stay safe okay." He calls out to me before the door to my apartment shut behind me. I don't understand why they try so hard with me. Its not as if I'm their only child. I have an elder sister for Christ sake. They don't bother her half as much as they do me.

Feeling irritated, I strip out of my cloths and jump into the shower. After enjoying the hot temperature of the water a few minutes, I quickly soap my sponge and scrub down my body. I rinse of the soap suds and towel off the water from my body.

The bath alone improved my mood so I go into the kitchen to find what to eat. There's the remnant of the jollof rice my chef prepared yesterday and I quickly heat it up and wolfed it down to soot the hunger. My phone. I haven't been on my phone since the previous day. I go back to my bedroom and search the pockets of my discarded cloths. Bingo.

Its there. I gather the clothes from the floor into my laundry basket and went back into my living room. I quickly open my call logs while sitting on my couch. I scroll down to Gabe and hit call.

"dude you disappointed me yesterday. How could you have left me to sleep in the cell. That was fucked up man." Silence welcomes me. "Gabe what the hell." I am angrier now at the silence.

"look man, im sorry. Your mom told me not to come get you. I'm glad you're out though."

What the fuck. "since when have you been listening to my mom. What's so special this time." I snap.

"look dude, I agree with your mom. You really need to get yourself sorted out-"

"are you serious right now?" I ask, exasperated. "you're my friend or God's sake"

"yeah, I'm serious and it is because where friends that makes me want whats best for you"

"you don't know whats best for me!" I bellow. No one does. I am happy with the way my life is and im already over this constant nagging. "you know what, since you can't even be my friend anymore, its best if we stopped talking to each other. Please loose my number."

"come on Tobi, it-"

I end the call and throw my phone on the couch. This can't be fucking happening. My only friend has joined the group of "judge Tobi" association. Bloody perfect. I'm best in my own company anyway. I don't need anyone.

I think.

The next morning, I'm driving to work feeling more sour that the previous day. I just can't seem to dig myself up from the anger I had been feeling since the previous day. I just feel so angry and bitter. How dare my parents turn Gabe against me.

I drive into the building that housed the best thing I own. My fashion shop. I am currently one of the biggest fashion designer in west Africa. A lot of people like to undermine my effort, saying I wouldn't be that popular if it weren't for my parents stand in the society. I'm like okay. Its ot my fault my parents are wealthy and your parents are dirt broke and are useless in your effort to succeed. Like yes, my parents introduced my to many of their top friend, but it is my talent that helped me remain on top,not connection. If I was actually a shitty fashion designer, a lot of people would have dropped me already or call me out. The only complain I get is for my character not my competence.

I walk into the building and head straight to my office. The place is already buzzing with workers and customers alike. On a normal day, I would stop to chat with my workers and apprentices, but not today. I got into my office and checked my schedule for today. I have two consultations today and one fitting. All before two pm. Perfect. I need to find my way into a bar very soon to drink away my anger.

Eight hours later, I got myself into Westland lounge. Not my favourite by a long shot, just quicker to get to. Two drinks in and I'm already regretting my decision of coming here. The only reason I don't enjoy coming to this bar is the lack of crowds. It's this cool bar with pretty much expensive everything and as such few people can afford coming here.

I look around the bar, trying to find nything interesting, perhaps a cool chick I can spend my time with tonight. There a some girls a little farther down my right. All looking hot as fuck. But their giving snobby attitudes I don't have the energy for tonight. My left turned futile. All old men and equally old women.

I signal the bartender and ordered another cocktail. I guess it's just me and my thoughts tonight-

I feel someone drop down on the empty seat beside me. I turn towards the person, hopping it's a girl. The moment my eyes lands on the person, I discover out two things. First, its not a chick. It's a man. And the second thing is how unfair God is in blessing people with physical attributes because holy shit. The man before me is fucking unreal.

I mean I'm not gay at all but I would most definitely smash. I know that doesn't sound right, but honestly, I don't care. I mean, I'm only blessed with his side profile for now but even that is too much. Ive never seen a side profile this sharp and defined. i know I'm goodlooking, but even I am so far behind on the line when it comes to this dude.

Are men even supposed to have lashes that long and straight? And his nose? Perfection. So straight and perfect. Okay, I'm getting more annoyed. Why does he have to look so good? And why I'm I still fucking looking and thinking about him.

I force my eyes back to my drink and it strays away from where I kept it and fell back on his face. This time my eyes latch onto his lips, and my God, its perfection. It's a full top lip with a slightly defined cupid's bow and a pinkish lower lip. I can't be sure since I cant fully see his features. Okay this is getting weirder by the second. I need to stop this. Maybe it's the drink. Ill just blame it on the drink.

Or maybe if I talked to him it might snap mw out of this drink filled curiosity. I cleared my throat.

"hello."

No reply. Maybe he didn't hear me. Celine dion is playing though. I moved my upper body closer. "hey guy, what's up?" I say louder this time.

He still didn't reply. If I wasn't watching him closely I wouldn't see him raise his perfectly trimmed brow up a little. Oh wow. He's snobby too? Honestly, I saw that coming. If I looked like that, people will literally worship at my feet. "hi" I say again, desperate to hear him speak. He didn't raise a perfect brow this time. This time he gives me the best- I mean worst side eye ever. He couldn't even be bothered enough to raise his eyes up to see me properly. Wow.

Okay. This is getting ridiculous. Why is this drink making me really impressed with everything about this guy. I bet he has ugly, sour voice that's why he refused to talk to me. I bet his voice is all high-pitched and stupid like that policeman from that cell. Like he can't be that perfect to also have a deep voice. No. cant happen. "so you're just gonna ignore me... dude" dude doesn't sound right in my mouth. I ignore that thought.

"how can I help you." I know he spoke. I saw his lips move. But I just cant come to terms with the fact that the delicious husky voice came from him. No freaking way. My jaw is probably on the flour right now and I don't mind one minute.

He snaps his fingers at me when I haven't responded. He probably thinks I'm a freak right now.

"um, hi?" why did it sound like a fucking question. What is wrong with me.

"do you actually have anything to say or do you plan on staring at me till I leave this place." The words fall out of his mouth in a slowly paced pattern as if he has all the time in the world.

"are you drunk?" he asks with indifference. As if whatever my answer is no concern to him.

"I think so." I murmur feeling a little bit flustered. "sorry"

"for what?" still no change in his expression.

"for bothering you." I mumble.

He corks that perfect brow again. "you're not bothering me." He states. Eyes still stuck on his phone.

"bro you look like I'm bothering you."

"that's just how I look like all the time." Oh. Thank God its not me.

"oh okay. I'm Tobi." I say with an outstretched hand. He side eyes my hand and turns back to his phone.

"okay" he replied without introducing himself in returned.

"so... whats your name?" I ask after a beat when I've withdrawn my outstretched hand.

He drops his phone on the counter, picks up his drink and fully turns to me and I almost pass out from the visual. "Malachai." He has mismatched eyes. He fucking has mismatched eyes. One dark the other a startling blue. Its so beautiful. How is he so perfect? If I were gay, this type of man will definitely break my heart into a million tiny pieces. But thant God I'm not gay.

He snaps his finger again. This is getting so embarrassing. I blink and then remembered he told me his name. Malachai. That's from the bible.

"wow, you have a really cool name." his name sounds as sophisticated as him. Now that his eyes are on me, I surprisingly don't know how to act anymore. I can't even meet his fucking eye and I force my eyes away from his lips and settle on the hand holding his drink. The very manly and veiny han-

He clears his throat and my eyes went back to his face. His corked brow is the only thing out of place on his face. No smile, no irritation. Just nothing. He doesn't look even a bit curious as to why I've been gawking at him all night. Well since he looks like that, I believe am not the first creep he had come across. The thought weirdly leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

"I'm not a creep." I mumble. The brow thing again. "I said, I am not a creep." I said a little louder this time."

He stares at me for a short time before saying. "never said you were..... although I wonder" my curious eyes wander away from his face down his body. He looks tall. I guess he might also be six two like me, but I seem to be a little more muscular than him. I have probably twenty to twenty five pound on him. He looks fit but I can't really tell much since he is suited up. The suit though also look impeccable on him. I bet everything looks good on him.

"that." He gestures to me with his drink. "that look. Whats it about?. Have you never come across another man?" I flushed. Dude is just calling me out.

"sorry. It's the drink." Even that sounds stupid because I haven't had a sip since he sat down.

He shrugs. "nothing I'm not used to."

We went silent from there. Only silently observing each other. Mine from intrigue. His probably from total judgment. I couldn't blame him though.

"what do you do?" I broke the silence. He relaxes back on the stool, his eyes traveling over my face.

"I'm a brain surgeon."

My mouth drops open again. "you're incredibly smart too?" I blurt out. The corner of his lips tilts up slightly, that's all I got from him. Wow, a brain surgeon. That's like so intelligent. How is he, handsome, smart and hot. That's like a deadly combination even for me a straight man.

"you?" he ask.

"me what?"

"what do you do?"

Oh that. "I'm a fashion designer."I say a little proudly. I'm proud of what I built. I might not be as book smart as him but I'm happy for myself for how far I've come.

He nods. "what's your brand name?"

Oh he is interested in knowing more about me. Not because he likes me in dating way, because I don't either, I'm straight. But because he finds me interesting. Okay I think I'm getting ahead of myelf at this point.

"its T-signs." He tilts his head a bit, I assume from confusion. "you know, Tobi designs. I just shortened it."

He nods in understanding. He opens his mouth to say something when his phone beeped, distracting him. He picks up his phone, checked whatever it was before quickly downing his drink and waiving the bartender over. I watch and dread fills my stomach as I realize he was getting ready to leave.

He pays for his drink before turning to me. "it was nice talking to you. Have a good night." He stands up from his stool. I stand up too. I can't just let him leave like that.

"wait" I call out. I was right. We were about the same height, but he's slightly taller. Just a teensy bit.

"what?"

"um... can get your number?" a brow raised. "you know, incase I need a brain surgery. My mom says there's something wrong with my head. I might need to get it checked out. But its okay if you don't want to, I understand. But really, its harmless-

"its alright." He looks a little bit amused. "hand me your phone."

I quickly dip my hand into my pocket and fish out my phone before he changes his mind and handed it to him. He types in his digits and gives it back.

"twas nice talking to you too." I murmur.

He nods and leaves.

I glance back down at my phone screen and saw the number he typed in. I add it to my contact list with a small smile on my face.

Malachi.