Deep in the city of Johannesburg, there once walked a player named Patrick. His walk and talk was smooth as golden silk. And he wore charm like a cape, so confident and cunning. For a long time, he has always been two steps ahead of the competition. But as farsighted as he was, he never saw the day when he would change his ways for the better. Because his footsteps always left a trail of broken hearts and deep red resentment from jealous observers. Everyone who envied him, bet on his downfall year after year. And so he never trusted anyone from his society. From adolescence, he was chased by many girls. “Options” was the name of the game. And having such a rare opportunity accessible to him, he grew proud and took advantage of it. Many came and many left, but he remained alone. Until the day when he came across a young lady, in the streets of Melville.

One sunny Friday, around 15:30 Patrick and his close friend James, left the house to have lunch at Pablo Eggs-Go-Bar. But it was fully packed and they couldn’t get a free table. So they settled for the 808 restaurant further down 7th street. And that’s where Patrick’s eyes met Thembi. She was 5 foot tall, with hazel eyes shining under her prescription glasses. And her golden braids complemented her light brown skin colour. Warm was her personality, but at work she kept it professional. She’s a bartender. One of the best mixers in the City. And Patrick from 4 tables away was charmed by her authentic smile and kindness. He couldn’t explain what it was about her that drew his undivided attention. So to free his mind, he dug deep into his chicken salad and fed his hunger.

Thirty minutess later, he paid the bill and they got up to leave. Eight steps later, Patrick jammed at the front door. And all he said to James was “I’m not leaving without her number.” So he turned back to ask for her number. But she looked him straight in his eyes and said no. Immediately his world was turned upside down, for this was the first time he faced pure rejection. Although he was shocked, he left in peace.

The thoughts he had about Thembi kept him up all night. After thinking of a better approach, he decided to try again the following day. It was half past 6 in the evening and Thembi was working a Sunday night shift, since she wasn’t available the previous day when Patrick came by. Approaching the bar, he grabbed a seat, waited his turn and ordered a Martini with deep eye contact and a smile. Then he placed an extra R100, ordering her numbers too. She blushed and laughed, before pushing the blue madiba back to him and wrote her phone digits on a piece of paper. It was a slow night, so he stuck around a little longer until she knocked off. And he insisted to drive her home, in order to continue their hot conversation. And just like that, the boy fell in love.
On that night, he discovered that she was actually a student at Wits University studying her final year of Psychology. And under the stars, she learned that he was a bestselling author who flew under the radar. And lived somewhere in Park Town. Eight months later, they were swimming deep in love.

However, someone wasn’t happy for them. So they pushed buttons and word got out to Thembi, alerting her about the kind of guy she was dating. By that time, Patrick had tossed all his old ways and was now committed. But an envelope carrying his skeletons found its way to her mailbox. Before even he closed the door after he came back from the shop, she pounced on him screaming, “You lied to me!”. Confusion piled up in his mind. But it all made sense after she threw all his skeletons to his face. Disappointment was sketched on Patrick’s face as he recognized each and every face. Stretching out his hands to her, trying to explain, but she didn’t want to hear it. And ferociously, she told him to leave.

Now deep inside his Audi TTRS, “Fuck!” Was the only expression that came out of him. The rear-view mirror told him he had screwed up by not telling her the truth. But whom could’ve exposed him and why? Four days passed as he tried to reach out to his girlfriend or ex Thembi, but she blocked him on all platforms. “Guilty” was carved deep in his soul.

Then one boring Monday, his ex Mbali texted him claiming to know who caused all of this. “Who did this?” he asked.

“Your dearest friend James!”. Immediately, a knife as long as a samurai sword pierced his back and went through his heart then out his chest. And pain bled out as he couldn’t believe it.

“But why?” he asked.

“Because he wants Thembi.”

Pissed off, he visited the dark shadows under the Mandela Bridge. And traded cash for an unregistered gun. Then began his manhunt. Anger and pain clouded his judgement. And he knocked down James’ door, but he didn’t find him. So he asked a few familiar faces about where he could be. “We last saw him at the 808.”

After parking near the restaurant, he felt the earth spinning wildly, because he was losing his mind. He walked in, he saw James talking with Thembi. No question was asked, he pulled out his silver 9mm, and placed it between James’ eyes. The crowd froze, as the right hand holding the gun was trembling, because the heart that pumped his blood was broken and betrayed. But he didn’t pull the trigger. He lowered the gun and simultaneously tears started rolling down his cheeks. He looked Thembi deep in her eyes and apologized. Then he left the scene, and never again to be seen.

This story was written as part of the Fundza Fellowship programme.