Layla Williamson stood in her walk-in closet, trying to pick a bag that matches her heels from the bag section. Her staff buzzed around like bees, the stylist picking out her outfit, the makeup artist blending out her already flawless skin, and her chef arranging breakfast options that she would barely take three spoons from. She scrolled through her phone casually, already mentally prepping for the banquet she was hosting later that evening. The guest list was elite; the press and paparazzi would be outside, and business would be discussed at the table over glasses of champagne and violins playing in the background. Layla was beautiful, her skin like milk; she was the real definition of classy and bougie. She had this unmatched aura and a very intimidating personality.
evidence that I will always be a multitasking babe
Miles away, Sabrina Thomas was also getting ready. She was a young lady that wanted more: to be able to afford her lifestyle, help others, buy her house so she could be free from rent and, most importantly, get herself a car. She wasn’t poor. In fact, she had a nice little apartment with her roommate, and she managed her bills just fine. But she was tired of managing. She wanted more – more money, more lifestyle, more peace – but life can be very funny and take an unexpected turn.
“I can’t keep doing this bar girl shift,” she said to Mia, her roommate, adjusting her uniform in front of the mirror. “Yesterday one man dey shout anyhow because I give am wrong order. God go help me; I go blow. Just one hit, one big move, and we go disappear from this place.” Sabrina said.
As they both stepped out of their houses, Layla headed for a meeting, while Sabrina went to work. Layla slid into her black Rolls Royce La Rose Noire Droptail; everything inside was white, and the car was screaming wealth. What did I expect? She is rich, while her security team followed in sleek black SUVs behind. The mansion gates opened slowly, letting out luxury and power.
Meanwhile, Sabrina locked her door and speed walked toward the bus station, trying her best not to be left behind; missing the bus meant getting yelled at by her shift manager, and she wasn’t in the mood. Not today. She was already pissed by her situation. “If only I had a car,” she said, “sheye I for stand for this place.” Sabrina said this as she waited for the arrival of the bus.
Later that evening, Layla arrived at the banquet in grand style. The paparazzi were already waiting. Flashes went off. She tried to duck, but her aura was too loud to hide. She was dressed in a custom-made Michael Kors dark green floor-length gown, paired with diamond jewellery and a BVLGARI wristwatch; her neck was blinging. She need not mention the price before we knew it was expensive. Her melanin glowed under the lights. Her steps were slow and deliberate. Her presence turned heads. Conversations stopped; I think there was a time pause for her so everyone could take a good glance at this beauty. Someone whispered, “That’s Layla Williamson.”
In another part of the city, Sabrina is seen at Renfort, one of the biggest 5-star hotels in NYC, attending to customers who just walked in. She smiled, ran them through their services and collected tips for being one of the nicest workers. But her mind was upstairs, in the penthouse.
Renfort is known for its premium services and the variety of them rendered. It has been in existence for a couple of years, with no flaws whatsoever. Sabrina has only been there for about 3 months, but you did think she was a long-working staff member.
Every staff member knew about the penthouse, but not all staff members were allowed in or even worked there.
Sabrina once mentioned to Mia that there was once a staff member who worked at Renfort for half a decade but never stepped foot there.
But Sabrina was inquisitive to know what they did there and was more determined to work at the penthouse. When she heard that staff who were assigned to work at the penthouse got paid more, like three times their usual earnings, she was enticed. That was where the big money flowed. She only heard about it, but tonight something changed. One of the regular staff assigned to the penthouse called in sick, and Sabrina was posted there temporarily. Her eyes lit up.
“What God cannot do does not exist. Is this a sign, Chai?” Sabrina said.
She was asked to get her new uniform from the laundry section and to also check the shift board on the second floor for the time her colleague's shift fell and how many days she would be walking at the penthouse in a week. The manager informed her that for now her colleague won’t be around for a month plus, and if she impresses him and gets good reports from customers, she might just be staffed.
The penthouse was nothing like the other floors. Sabrina could testify that the penthouse was better than the clubhouse, where they often spread huge amounts of money.
“Rich people, expensive suits, strange-smelling cigars – this was where I knew that not all rich people liked to act rich or wear suits, knot ties, shining shoes and all that. Poker chips clinking like background music. And the air? Thick with silent codes, half-smiles, and the kind of tension only billionaires could afford. But you know what was common among all of them? Take a wild guess. I know you want to say money. No, that’s not it. Ohh, sorry, yes, money is common, but that’s not the main one. They all had bouncers, as in security. I could say for a fact that all their bouncers carry at least 200 kg lifted every day. If one should stand in front of me, even my shadow will not be seen, not to talk of me breathing. I can tell you for a fact that some of their bosses would be scared of them, but they just act all tough. Thinking of it now, I think there is a school for bouncers, because tell me why they are all the same size and probably the same height. They send shivers down my spine. I bumped into one earlier today, and I froze for 5 minutes, and during that time the tray in my hand fell and the glasses shattered into pieces, the room went silent, I froze, it was so embarrassing, and everyone turned to look at me before the man or giant walked past me.” She told Mia on the phone.
Mia: Jesus, that is not a good first impression.
Sabrina: I know.
Mia: But wait ooo, you still haven’t told me what they do up there.
Sabrina: Is that really important?Mia: Yes, it is.
Sabrina: Okay, promise not to shout.
Mia: Aunty, open your mouth and talk.
Sabrina: If you shout, I will cut the call.
Mia: I won’t shout. What do they do?Sabrina: Okay, here we go, a strip… (Mia cut Sabrina's shot.)
Mia: Chinake!!!
Sabrina: Chill, I am joking; it is a casino.
Mia: I was so scared, but even though, guy, you know that such places are dangerous, and you can't run.
Sabrina: I know, but I haven’t heard of such incidents happening here.
Mia: Will they tell you? Have you heard of any institution that puts out their secrets, or why do you think they don’t allow everybody up there?
Sabrina: Nothing can happen to me; you fear too much.
She returned back to her duty but became very observant. She didn’t speak much, just watched and noted. At first, she didn’t understand the games, but after a few days of consistent shifts on the top floor, she began learning their patterns. She studied the way they gestured, how their fingers tapped the table, and the way they whispered to each other with tilted heads and raised brows. She began decoding them. Sabrina wasn’t just working; she was learning.
Every time the last player left, she’d mimic their actions to her reflection in the silver champagne tray.
“One day, I go play this game. And I go pack everybody money. Dem go shock.”
A week in, and she was getting bolder. She could now predict who would win or lose just from observing.
But one night, something happened.
After a tense game, an argument broke out between two players. Voices were raised, a glass shattered, and then boom! A gunshot. Someone dropped to the ground, lifeless.
Sabrina took to her heels. She couldn’t breathe properly until she got home.
She narrated everything to Mia that night, who immediately warned her.
“That penthouse place? Don’t go there again! They don’t fear police upstairs. These people get bodyguards, money, and lawyers. Tell me wetin you get abi your papa get. Please just stay downstairs like before.” Mia said
But Sabrina wasn’t hearing it.
“Abeg, abeg. You dey forget say na penthouse dey pay pass? No wahala. I go still go. Na upstairs I go learn wetin I need to blow.
”Her roommate sighed and tried again to convince her.“You wan die?”
Sabrina rolled her eyes and tied her scarf.
“You know IKD, Mushin, Surulere, and Ojuelegba?” She paused dramatically. “I never to go those places. But I dey hear about am. If person fit survive there, na warrior be that. Me? I just dey start. But the way e be for that penthouse, e still soft pass Naija hustle. Make I dey fear them? When them sef dey scope person before they win. Abeg. Na 50/50. I no fit suffer for Naija; come suffer here again. When no be cursed.”
And so, she returned to work like nothing happened. Head high, uniform ironed, eyes sharp. That day, the casino floor buzzed with energy. A new set of players arrived: an Italian man in a crisp black tuxedo, named Goffredo, and another dark-skinned man who gave off African-American vibes, Owen. The Italian mumbled mostly in his language, occasionally hissing at his friend in frustration. Sabrina watched them play, her face blank, but her mind was working.
“If to say I get money,” she thought, “I will show this mumu that Lagos girls no dey carry last. This one go lose die.”
She watched the Italian’s move and immediately knew it was stupid. The other man was clearly going to win. A few minutes passed. The room got tenser. Sabrina couldn’t hold it anymore. She burst out laughing from her corner and said under her breath:
“Where dem carry this mumu from? Are you blind? This one na mugu ooo.”
She had forgotten herself.
Goffredo didn’t understand her Pidgin, but the other man, Mr Owen, definitely did. He tried to hide his laugh, covering his mouth with his right hand. He turned slightly to get a look at who made that comment and locked eyes with Sabrina, whose face had instantly switched to regret and shock.
After the game, of course Owen won.
Sabrina’s shift ended, and she headed toward the elevator. As the doors were closing, a hand stopped them. It was Mr Owen. He stepped in casually, standing beside her.
They didn’t say anything at first, but then, as the elevator descended, Mr Owen told Sabrina about how she could have gotten herself into trouble with Goffredo: “You were lucky he didn’t understand what you said; your body could have been lying dead by now, said Mr Owen. “His body could have also been lying dead by now,” Sabrina said as she picked up a call. He looked with curiosity, like he wanted to ask something. Maybe her name. Maybe where she was from.
But she didn’t offer it.
And when the elevator reached the first floor, she stepped out without looking back.
How was your week? Mine was stressful. I need to check my steps for the week; it felt like I was in a walking contest!
Have a lovely day, my darling, and I hope next week is kinder to us🌸
Sabrina get mind o😹
I flew here immediately!😭❤️