“Moyo please. Not tonight,” Sewa cuts me off. “Tonight is for drinking some rich guy’s liquor, dancing without a care, and having fun. I don’t want to talk about it any further.”
“Sewa—”
But before I can string together a coherent thought, Anjie yells, “Found it!”
“Later,” I whisper to Sewa.
Anjie stands akimbo. “Pick it up, slow pokes! A night is about to be had.”
She leads us to a dark burgundy door dangerously close to a dark alley we had passed multiple times. Standing in front of it, it’s no wonder we missed it. You wouldn’t imagine a door being there, and in the dark night, it blends right in.
Anjie gives a hard knock. The viewing door opens.
“Code?” a gruff voice demands.
Anjie clears her throat. “The owls are not what they seem.”
“Welcome to the masquerade.”
For what looks like an old door, it doesn’t make a sound as it’s opened.
“You can leave your coats here.” The man who let us in opens a small coat room. “And remember, no photography or videography once inside. Keep your masks on and enjoy.”
He disappears through another door, and we put the finishing touches on our outfits. Sewa’s in a blood-red, v-neck, flapper-esque dress; Anjie’s wearing a white lace dress cinched with a detailed black-and-white corset she thrifted during the summer; and I’m in a black handkerchief dress paired with my lace tights because my ass always makes skirts shorter than they should be.
For the finishing touch, we put on our masks. Sewa’s is red and sequined, concealing just the area around her eyes, Anjie’s white mask is Phantom of the Opera-esque, covering half her face, and mine is black lace, with a flower kissing my temple and a piece of lace dangling towards my collarbone.
“Anj, are you sure this isn’t a sex party?” Sewa asks. I laugh, but Anjie only shrugs.
“I thought about it. Honestly, I’m not sure. Lionel only shared it was an invitation-only party.”
“And you trust Lionel?” I ask.
“I barely know the gu—”
“Anjola!” Sewa raises her voice, but the humor underneath is palpable.
“Hold on nau, let me land,” Anjie cautions us. “I barely know him, but he’s my most loyal customer. He won’t do anything dangerous to his favorite restaurant’s owner.”
The logic is mostly sound. I also wouldn’t fuck with my Nigerian food supplier.
“Let’s take a risk and succeed. We haven’t done something like this since college.”
“For good reason,” I add.
“Abegi, we’ll have fun. If it’s a sex party, we can watch or joi—I mean leave.” Anjie backtracks when she sees our faces. “I didn’t know this wasn’t a safe space.”
I shake my head. “You’re not a serious person.”
“As long as we’re together, everything will be fine, right?” Anjie asks seriously.
I look to Sewa, and for the first time in weeks, there’s some light in her eyes. I clasp hands with her and Anjie.
“Us against the world. Always,” I say, and we follow the arrows into another dimly lit hallway, adrenaline buzzing between us.
Anjie was right. This feels just like college. Fun, possibly idiotic, but exhilarating. And like college, I know it’ll be a great night with these two by my side.
15Moyo
