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Sugar Mama for Hire: Lagos Hustle Love / Chapter 2: Fake Things Full Everywhere
Sugar Mama for Hire: Lagos Hustle Love

Sugar Mama for Hire: Lagos Hustle Love

Author: Crystal Brown


Chapter 2: Fake Things Full Everywhere

That afternoon, dem bring Musa come my office.

My office high well—sunlight dey shine through the big glass window for the thirty-second floor, land for him Balenciaga T-shirt, Yohji Yamamoto trousers, and Louis Vuitton sneakers.

Fake.

Fake.

Still fake.

The perfume wey Musa spray dey heavy for air, like say e wan cover all the fake wey e wear.

But I no go lie—the guy fine.

No be like Seyi, wey dey always cool, pride just dey inside him body.

Musa be like all those city boys, like say dem use the same template do am: sharp, small razz, with one kind cunning shine for him eye.

But after person chop too much correct food, sometimes e go dey crave bush meat.

For this Lagos, I don see all sorts. The ones wey dey speak Queen's English, the ones wey dey try use street lingo impress you. Since all of them na the same waka, why I go choose the one wey dey form say the thing dey below am?

As Musa open him mouth, I know say I don jam correct person.

"I hear say you want make I call you ‘Mummy’?"

The way e talk am, e be like person wey dey recite for audition. "Make I just talk am straight?"

This one sabi act the role well.

But I no ready to play that game.

Na boys like this, today e go want make I help am blow, tomorrow e go ask for connection to get main role, next thing e go knack scandal say dem catch am as sugar baby, then e go dey beg make I help am cover am.

Na my type. True true, na my type.

I just bone am, begin look the file wey Secretary Bisi bring come.

The file get small stain, and Bisi use biro wey don nearly finish, the writing bend like NEPA light. E come from one small town for one of those local government areas—family no poor, even better than Seyi own, wey papa dey drink, mama dey play lotto.

E school no too strong, no reach Seyi level at all.

But e tall pass Seyi by five centimeters.

I raise head look am; e just dey smile dey show all him teeth.

E fine, but e too dey try please person.

I just twist mouth, small wahala dey my mind.

"How many people you don follow? Na man or woman?"

Musa no even shake, e no even shame small.

"Na only you."

Na story be that.

I say, "Secretary Bisi go carry you go health centre, do full body check. If everything clear, come see me next week."

"Okay, madam."

E waka comot, body dey sweet am.

As e dey go, na that him backside I notice.

I reason small—abeg, na foam dem put for there?

I fit just laugh small, shake head. For this Lagos, fake things dey everywhere. Person fit spray perfume sotay e go smell like Oniru supermarket, but na only when you touch real body you go know truth. The way Musa waka go, confidence dey drip from him step; na all those boys wey sabi say fine face and gym dey give better connection for this city.

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