I shifted in my seat and looked around. I didn’t belong here. The table settings were elegant and the decor was amazing. It was as if I had been transported into a movie.

“Ms Gumede?” The waiter snapped me out of my musings.

“Yes?”

“It seems as though there has been a change of seating arrangements. Follow me.”

I got up and followed the impeccably dressed guy upstairs into a restricted area.

“VIP?” I read the sign. “Oh, my God. Who is this guy?”

There were fewer people up here and the tables were more private, further apart from each other. The waiter led me to a table with someone already seated there. I couldn’t see his face because his back was to us.

“Sorry, Sir,” the waiter addressed the guy at the table. “Your guest, Ms Gumede, is here.”

The guy stood up and turned to face me.

“Hi Reneilwe,” he smiled.

I must have looked like an idiot with my mouth hanging open.

“Fast Whip?”

“What happened to Mr Bump and Go?” he chuckled.

Oh. My. God. If I told Naz I was having dinner with Fast Whip, she would freak. Fast Whip was currently the number one rapper in the whole of Africa, selling out stadiums and albums in record time.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I said. “I didn’t know it was you, Fast Whip.”

He held out a chair for me and I sat down.

“Please call me Stone. And I’m the one who should be apologising for causing you all this drama. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been worse,” I replied.

“I hope you understand my situation. I had some drama with the press. Even now they somehow found out I’d be eating here tonight. Hence the change in seating arrangements.”

“You were running away from them when you bumped into me?”

“Yes. I couldn’t let them see me. Long story.”

“Sounds as if you and the press have a bad history.”

“You could say that. They aren’t exactly my best friends. Always twisting things just to sell more copies.”

Oh, damn, I realised. He doesn’t know I work for Juicy. Didn’t the doctor tell him?

“Well, Fast Whip is quite a sensation.”

“We all have our passions. Unfortunately, it also comes with a price.”

“Yeah, a price so high that you can treat a stranger to an expensive meal, right? It must be terribly hard.”

I didn’t understand. Was he complaining about being famous? Or boasting about it? He was taken aback by my words.

“There’s that brutal honesty again.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I just find it hard to believe you’re complaining about your life. You’re damn lucky.”

“What about all my hard work? Is that luck?”

“There are people who work ten times harder than you who live in poverty.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I was just saying that being famous isn’t as easy as it seems.”

“I’m sure.”

For a moment, I recognised the old me. The hard-hitting journo who dug until she got to the bottom of the situation, exposing frauds and liars. We spent 10 minutes in silence, and I looked through the menu trying to figure out if these words were English.

What if I ordered something and I didn’t like it? Would I have to finish it? Of course I would. It’s probably expensive.

I felt Stone’s eyes on me. I looked up. “What is it?”

“I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“I’m an open book,” I stated.

“I somehow doubt that’s true.”

“I’m sorry if I was hard on you. I actually am a journ– … I mean, I’m opinionated.”

“That’s good. But also, don’t believe everything you read in magazines.”

“Trust me; I’m the last person you should be telling that to.”

Stone ‘Fast Whip’ was constantly a feature in both Juicy and Luscious. From what I knew, he had never given an interview in his life. He wanted to keep his life private. That’s why there were so many stories about him. Because he refused to share, they just made up things about him. The ugly truth about the media.

That’s it! This was how I was going to score the promotion and the scoop of a lifetime. My next, best, story had literally just bumped into me. Fast Whip.

***

Tell us: Do you think being a rich celebrity has downsides, as Fast Whip claims? If so, what?