Fumnaya tiredly placed her record book on the receptionist desk. Diane, the dark skinned clerk on duty looked up from the lighted screen of her computer and smiled, revealing her deep set of dimples.

"Tired already?" She asked grabbing the book and flipping through the pages for the last entry date.

It was past midnight and all Fumn wanted to do was to crash in the spare room provided to the club girls. It was at the last floor of the grande hotel, giving an airy view of the car park, the bar and the underlying shrubs that lined the high fence. The bar attendants had already retired to bed after cleaning up the place and stashing away the empty bottles in a crate.

Diane peered over the account page as she tallied the total amount of sales Fumn had with a calculator. It had been a pretty hectic day at the club. Drinks poured like water, the latest hip hop musics were played and the crowd surged with excitement. Fumn maintained restrained conversations with a few of her course mates who came to party.

She caught Ebitimi observing her closely from the top floor while occasionally drinking from his wine glass. Fumn could pay to know what was going through his devious mind.

Fumn shuffled about her feet, she couldn't wait to finally get rid of her knee length boots. It was requested of her that she wear bum shorts to work to attract more customers.

It seemed to work out perfectly because Fumn had gotten a lot of calls for her attention as the men ordered more and more drinks. They watched her calculated steps with beady eyes.

Fumn knew what was running through their head. Most of the high class men attempted asking for her number at the counter but she turned them down because there was no sizzling attraction.

Diane's smooth voice pulled her from her reverie.

"Your sales don't match up with the figure on here after calculating." She had a frown on her face as she shifted her chair back and passed Fumn the record book.

Fumn sighed heavily. At a top corner, there was a red pen mark on a figure which she traced to one of the customer's names. She recalled the amount the old man paid and the extra money he gave her for tips. Her mouth rounded in an 'o' as she realized she'd mistakenly included her tip money in it.

"Waoh, I made a big mistake. I added up my tip money to the account and forgot that it didn't reflect in the cash I handed over."

Diane nodded understandably. "Already getting tips on your second day?"

Fumn laughed nervously. "I hope I am not supposed to tell you the amount."

Diane placed a hand on her jaw and gave her best puppy dog look. Her small lips turned down slightly and her long eyelashes kept on blinking repeatedly. "Could you tell me please?"

Fumn looked about cautiously, checking to see if anyone was coming before leaning to whisper in her ear. Diane jolted using a hand to cover her mouth to prevent her from screaming.

"Five thousand naira?!"

Fumnaya got back from school feeling so hungry and tired. She dragged her feet up the flight of steps to the second floor of her lodge and walked down the hallway to her room. She was about slotting her key into the keyhole when on instinct, she turned the doorknob.

Her jaw slackened as she saw her roommate in a scissors position with another girl who was moaning in delight, her head thrown back. Kevwe halted in the action of squashing her partner's breast and grabbed a wrapper to cover her naked self.

"I didn't know you would be back early," she breathed.

"Care to join in on the fun?" The girl asked openly spreading her legs.

"I can't believe that I have been staying with a freaking lesbian for a year and I didn't know about it." Fumn placed a hand on her racing heart as she dropped her bag on the chair and hurried out the door. The place was reeking of sex mixed with wood spice.

Fumn knocked on the door of her next door neighbor who was around judging by the sight of his rubber palms. She waited impatiently for him to answer and then knocked again, hearing no sound coming from inside.

"Ozo," she called out. She heaved a frustrated sigh as he opened the door and stood at the entrance.

"Let me in?" Fumn asked ogling the guy's shirtless body. Ozo was a kind of person that admired from a distance without getting too close. He didn't have the mind to confess his feelings to Fumn but by the intense look her gave her, she understood sharply.

Ozo was an engineering student in his final year. He was into painting and graphic designing which one could easily tell from his muscular body structure. Ozo raised a brow questioningly and ushered her in. As she walked past, she could feel his bathed breath on her skin.

Ozo was living comfortably in his one bedroom condo. He had a tv, a medium sized bed, air condition, a kitchen with it's appropriate facilities and a music player. One thing Fumn liked about Ozo was his neatness culture. She spotted him a few times, mopping his house and hanging his washed clothes outside.

He was a spec but Fumn wasn't really into him. What they had between them was pure lust but Ozo knew better. Ozo quietly closed the door as Fumn sat on the edge of the bed. The delectable scent of spaghetti wafted through her nostrils and she hummed in pure delight. Spag was her favorite.

"What got you so worked up honey, I saw the angry look you gave me as you entered. Work related issues?" Ozo climbed in bed and set to work massaging her stiff shoulder. It was what he did whenever he noticed she was tense. Fumn slowly relaxed as Ozo worked his magic fingers on her.

"I just discovered that my roommate is a freaking lesbian. How do I deal with that?" Fumn blew out a breath and ran her hand down her face.

"Why, I thought you liked sexual stuffs. Does that bother you?"

Fumn turned to him not believing he could utter those words. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Ozo shrugged, unfazed. "You do that with me all the time."

"Oooh God," Fumn groaned. "Why should every conversation be turned into what's happening between us?"

Ozo brushed his sporty wave giving a good view of his narrow waist. He kept mute as he walked to the kitchen to serve a plate of food for Fumn. He already understood that anytime Fumn was angry or irritated, she often transferred her aggression to the next party.

Fumn paced the length of the room, not acknowledging the meal that Ozo placed on his glass table.

"Aren't you going to eat at least?" He asked puzzled.

Fumn eyed Ozo from his lined eyebrows, pointed nose, lush lips to his clear cut chin. She felt a growing heat pool between her thigh and her gaze darkened.

"I could eat you!"