BACK FROM HOME
A day had passed since my arrival in the United Kingdom. I had experienced some bits of tiredness but had slept it off, and now I can say I am well-rested. My radio sessions won't start until later next week, so this week I have the chance to rest and maybe get familiar with, or rather catch up on what I missed throughout the month. I was planning to go to the mall, maybe check out some clothes, buy some snacks in some fast food around, and then return to my rental home to chill, watch a movie, play some games, or just relax; I wanted today to be a me day.
Kelvin had picked me up from the airport, and I'm grateful for that. He has been quite sweet to me. Today, he called me in the morning to check up on me, so I can say he is trying his best to make up for what I had seen, but that... I don't think I will ever find the time or opportunity to erase from my memory. It was luck; it was Kelvin. If it were Leniey, I don't know how I would react. If hearing about his actions with women after I left affected me this much, then what if I were to find him with another girl? I know I'm talking about an ex, but when it comes to Leniey, I just soften, I lose myself; I'm not sure of myself when it comes to him.. That's all of the effect I guess he has on me. My initial plan, after leaving and hearing about his actions, was to never speak to him, and even if our paths crossed again, I would keep it professional but well, you saw what happened. However, due to all this confusion about love, I have confided in myself and thought it over a thousand times and realized, if not today, one day I shall hurt one of the guys in my life, which is not and was not a good sign. So, I decided to focus on my radio sessions, work extra hard in my podcasts, and do the best so that I can to excel. After that, I planned to pursue my master's degree, and maybe one day, return to my country to complete my psychology course.
As I was lost in thought, I found myself walking towards the mall, which I reached quite quickly. Sometimes when I indulge in serious thoughts, I unconsciously do many things that, I would normally feel helpless or tired of doing. I remember when I was writing my first book, I was excited at first, plotting my ideas, creating characters, and everything. But as time went on, it started feeling forced. I'm not sure if this happens to all authors, but after some introspection, I realized the bigger picture and why I started writing in the first place. It reminded me of a line from "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" by a certain author, Frederick or something, who said, 'many people live in their thoughts.' We spend most of our time in our thoughts, building castles in the air, imagining beautiful houses near beaches, buying the best cars, and excelling in certain things. But in reality, the dreamer often doesn't take action, believing that someday everything will come true without much hard work. So sometimes, dreaming can be great, but it can actually be your greatest enemy as of the moments when one is fully grown. However, when am in thought, I really do a lot of things, especially when walking. I think about a lot of crazy stuffs.
Honestly, I love this mall, although I'm not quite sure about its name for it was just opened. It usually has nice clothes for people of every social class, size, and preference. I'm on the smaller side size, weighing around fifty to fifty-two kilograms. I eat a lot, but I'm not sure where all the food goes… crazy I know. I've always wanted a curvier body with big hips, thick thighs, and larger breasts, but I've come to appreciate myself as I am. I'm short, around 5 feet something. Sometimes when I wear certain clothes, I feel like a guy because I don't have the curves to accentuate, and fill in the parts needed to be filled by a thicker body. But I do like my flat tummy; it's something I'm proud of. I often check myself in the mirror to see the flatness, or are they called six-packs for ladies? I'm not sure, but I love it. In college, students used to tell me to show off my navel, but it's the most sensitive part of my body. If a guy touches it lightly and kisses my neck, Oh God, heavens call, bells ring in my ears, and suddenly my legs turn jelly, and, well, it's embarrassing to even mention it here. I can't believe I'm thinking about this. Anyway, as I mentioned earlier, the mall has a wide variety of clothes, and I'm a big fan of baggy clothes, but today I was looking for some formal attire for my radio sessions. I'm financially stable, thanks to my various radio sessions and the demand for my book. My credit card is in a good place, I can state, and I quite wonder, how financially stable Leniey is currently, I believe he is earning worth some of amounts. The last time I spoke to him was before I came to the United Kingdom. I still have his certificates in my bag, and I've tried reaching out to him, but his phone goes to voicemail. I texted him on Instagram, and he read the message but didn't respond. At least he knows I've arrived, but it seems he's caught up with a lot I guess, for he does not flinch from social media if he is not quite mad busy. He's had a lot of modelling agencies quite getting fond of him, and asking out for him, but am sure his yearns is Dior or some bigger fancy designer companies.
After a long search for clothing, I bought some designer dresses and formal women trousers. Maybe next time, I'll ask Leniey to accompany me when shopping for clothes and shoes since he's familiar with the best-tailored designs. As I leave the mall, a phone call interrupts my thoughts. It is Kelvin. "Hello," I answer, anticipating his response. "Hey, darling, where are you? I checked your house, but it seems locked." Side note: he still calls me darling, which I don't mind; I guess I enjoy it as long as it lasts. "I'm at the mall, Kelv. Why?" "Oh, which mall?" "The new mall that just opened, near Fric hotel or something." "Okay, got you; I'm coming right away." With that, he ends the call as I heard the screeching of his car brakes. So, I need to wait for him, when he says got you… I know he's coming.
After about ten minutes, I saw him enter the mall's gates and carefully park his outrageously classy car in an empty parking spot. He opens his car door and looks at me from a distance. He is wearing black shades, a Dior designer shirt, and white jeans-like shorts. The Dior shirt is quite baggy for his size, for the wind is clearly making it follow its movements in all directions, he likes such shirts, for fresh air I guess. He has a cap covering his hair, but it is worn in a quirky way, with the front facing the back. His black ear dots are visible in each ear. He however honestly looks exceptionally good today, and I can't quite be sure what he is up to. "Hey," he says, attempting to give me a hug, which I gladly accept. I can see some people eyeing us as I hug him, but I don't mind, mind your businesses lads. He offers to carry my small bags, which contained my clothes, and then we begin our walk towards his car, with me going first, as he always said, 'ladies first' or something. "The sun is scorching today; it must be over a hundred degrees. I believe all the ice on the mountains has melted by now," he says, now bluffing as he usually did when he wanted to strike up a conversation with me. A hundred degrees? Come on, wouldn't that even give me sunburn, considering my deadass skin tone? He opens the passenger door for me after placing my things in the back seat, and then gets into his seat, buckles his seatbelt, and states, "I really missed you, Angel." Suddenly, the conversation feels awkward. I want to respond, but no words seem to form in my ambitiously bright mind. I watch as he reverse his car and head towards the exit. "Please say something," he mutters underneath, as if trying to suppress the urge to say something disrespectful to me. "You know that when I left, we weren't on good terms. It was messy, right?" I say, waiting for his response, to which he nods slightly, as if he understands where the conversation is heading. "I don't know. I have no idea how I can make up for that mistake, trust me, Angel," he says, nervously tapping a spot on the steering wheel. That's how he always got when he knew he was at fault or had inadvertently ruined something. "Well, you can start from anywhere," I say, trying to calm his nerves, as I could see he was on the verge of desperation, and his face was already turning red. "Do you want to watch a game or have a dinner date? Your choice." I have never liked it when a man tells me to choose; Am usually the type who states surprise me or something. "There's the Commonwealth Games; we can go watch Kenyan runners in action," he suggests with a slight smile. I honestly appreciate his thought, but I really preferred something that would be special for both of us. However, before I could respond, he seems to read my mind and adds, "I'll take you out to dinner. By the way, I'm doing my first runway show the week after next, and you must come. It's with Leniey's agent." He says this with the widest smile I had ever seen, making me smile back at him. He gently touches my hand with his other hand, as if saying thank you or sorry. Am not quite sure, but it was a gesture I always appreciated when it came from him.