"You're all clear."

Sorell frowned; she expected anything except the doctor's response, "what do you mean I'm all clear? I'm still struggling with my eating disorder and had a stroke. Don't I need more time to recover?"

The doctor flicked through the pages of Sorell's report, "your body has recovered well; of course, your regime is important, but psychically you're fine. At least you're well enough to travel."

Sorell pointed to her head, "how about this? I'm sure it still has a few screws loose."

The doctor chuckled. Humour seemed to accompany Sorell's appetite and new lifestyle. The woman was actually a funny person once one shed the one thousand and one layers of her personality.

Doctor Halimi lowered her stare, "Sorell, tell me you don't want to go, and I'll go in your direction, but you're healthy enough to fly if you desire. And the true question is, do you want to go? I asked you to draw up a list of what's the verdict?"

"Nothing is holding me back. I justㅡ."

"Sorell?"

The woman reflected. One thing or someone held her back, like unfinished business.

Sorell knew she mistreated him. She felt terrible, especially since she didn't want to hurt Ravan; she loved him too much for that. As Sorell told Zara, Ravan was family. Hence, her love resided in something she thought was affection one has for kin while having her pulse soar with passion at the thought of him.

All Sorell knew was no matter how she felt, Ravan had Zara. She could not and would not stand between their happiness. It was no longer about not being good enough but about doing what she believed was in the man's best interest.

"Sorell."

The woman snapped out of her daze and asked, "Doctor, what do you do when you want to forget someone?"

Doctor Halimi tilted her head to the side, "you need to find something else to focus on."

Sorell nodded as though she wanted the doctor's words to persuade her, "right, okay. I'm good; I'm going to Africa."

The woman feared her feelings for Ravan more than lions and militia in the jungle.

Without knowing, Ravan stressed her more than anyone she had ever encountered because deep down, Sorell knew he wasn't coming with the Tomfoolery of a fling, and she wasn't ready to assume more than that.

Who was she kidding?

The idea of seeing and being with him scared Sorell to death.

She didn't trust herself enough. The woman sucked at relationships as her insecurities constantly pushed her to spoil things. Yes, she preferred being chased by a herd of rhinoceros to being in a closed space with Ravan.

Sorell left the doctor's office with her prescriptions and headed straight to get her yellow fever and malaria shots.

She didn't have much time left. She had already wasted four days weighing the pros and cons. Even as she passed her checkup, Sorell wondered which of the doctor's analyses would sadden her more.

Finally, Sorell could leave for Africa, and it was what she wanted, even if the thought of going there scared her. Sorell desired to abandon the bustle and social media havoc. Petra continued to stir and sway a niche while most passed on to other trending news.

Summer was also a time for weddings and rupture in the celebrity world. Sorell's news should have sunk into the abyss of Twitter; unfortunately, childhood photos of Ravan with Sorell kept popping up, but what nailed Sorell's mouth shut was a fan page dedicated to them.

People drew Gacha life characters that resembled them. Someone even created a Wattpad novella where Ravan and Kwan fought over her. Sorell didn't think people would take her love life to heart, but it appeared some people had more time than her to ponder about her singles status.

The hype around them didn't help Sorell, who could not look at her social media without seeing herself with Ravan. The threads wishing for their love ship to sail enhanced and galvanized the feeling of need within her. How Sorell wanted to see his face, she remembered how younger she used to dream of how it would be to kiss him.

Oddly Petra, Ravan avoided showing PDA with Petra when Sorell was around. It was Petra who always sought and instigated something to rub her happiness in Sorell's face.

Hence, it was Petra who invaded the love scenes of her imagination, preventing Sorell from putting herself on the spot with Ravan.

The man didn't have a Twitter account under his name, nor did he have a photo, but Sorell knew Lakers24 was Ravan as soon as she read the comment that was so Ravan-like: I'm sure she has other priorities, such as herself, and the guy understands that, otherwise, he's a fool. I'm not sure this account serves their story in any way, but it's cute.

The replies didn't wait:

KikiMontparasse: We don't want any haters.

Xoxo: Sorell knows he's the man for her.

Reply to Lakers24: Why are you speaking as though you're her PA, gatekeeper, or something?

Lakers24: I'm sorry if my comment offended you in any way. It wasn't my intent. I'm not hating. Please trust me when I say I'm probably SereneSorell's biggest fan.

Ravan loved Kobe Byrant, and his profile only related to NBA or other sports events from Tennis to formula 1. The response within the thread was the first coming from the account that didn't speak of anything else except game playoffs.

Sorell guessed that even Ravan was flattered by the attention just as she felt a little something-something to see him respond.

As expected, the Kwan fans weren't far behind. They came to promote their man and love contender. And Kwan didn't hesitate to like some comments.

Childish, Sorell thought. She didn't understand why the man fueled rumors by entertaining the public, especially when one knew how many considered her in their industry. At the same time, she admired Kwan and was grateful to have such an ally.

Kwan didn't care about popular opinion. He wasn't one to wear his views vest inside out for the public. Strangely enough, no one bothered or criticized him for standing by her.

Some would be tempted to say it was because Kwan was a man. The treatment reserved for them was always somewhat nuanced, but Sorell believed people were just afraid of being chewed online by the man.

The former Vrai Visage host was someone Sorell preferred to keep as a friend than an enemy.

Groggy after her shots, Sorell went home to rest before waking up to list what she had to do before leaving.

Roger booked his flight for the next day. He never stayed in Europe long.

The man formally detested Paris and having to attend all the pompous events where people sucked up to him. Roger had better things to do as a correspondent.

The man was tired of being in front of the cameras. Sorell was a perfect stand-in and perhaps a replacement. Like Regie, the grand reporter tried to pull the strings on Sorells' career without wondering if the woman had a plan of her own.

Sorell began to prepare her for her voyage. She went shopping for hiking boots and other survival kit items. Mireille helped her pick the relevant products as she didn't want to overpack.

"Africa isn't a Koh-Lanta, Sorell."

"I know, but Roger isn't taking me to the Royal Mansour Hotel in Marrakech."

Roger left her a road map. They would sleep in critical cities but would spend their days in regions. Unlike what he announced, Roger also included visits to ancestry tribes. Yes, he also delivered footage for channels such as national geographic, BBC news, and The Guardian.

He explained that the goal was not to make Africa look like a no man's land. Its history was rich, and he wished to preserve the cultural heritage. The best way was the alert the world through documentaries.

Sorell knew she could not escape the wifi-less villages.

She apprehended the moment. Sorell was a hundred percent connected being. With two phones and the most substantial network subscription. Even with that, she regularly managed to go over her data consumption. It wasn't easy to imagine herself living without her trusty phones. Roger clarified they wouldn't always have a van with satellite connexion. Which meant they would be all alone in the wilderness.

Sorell spent her remaining days in Paris at the French National library, brushing up on her geopolitics and her nights watching any movie relating to African stories.

"Sorell, you'll learn more about Africa watching a good old Nollywood or any African drama than watching Blood Diamond, Erza, The Last King of Scotland, The Constant Gardner, or The Beast of No Nation. Those movies show the worst facets of the continent."

"I'm aware of this, and these movies are sugar-coated with fiction but relate a certain truth. Don't worry, aunty, I will come back with my truth."

Mireille sighed and went to the kitchen to watch her stew. She sat down and sent a message. Keeping him updated had become a habit.

Hi Ravan, Sorell is leaving after tomorrow, and she won't be back in Paris before next year if everything goes well. As I told you, she's pleased about her decision. I'm just wondering what you are going to do.

The reply came straight away.

Hi aunty, thank you for always letting me know how she's doing. I'm glad she's recovering well. As I told you, I want what's best for her, and Sorell is the one who knows what she needs. If she wants to leave right now, then so be it. I will never stand in the way of her happiness.

Mireille groaned as she hurried to reply.

Yes, but don't you want to see her? At least one last time before she leaves. You can't let her go this way, Ravan! Don't you loveㅡ.

"Aunty, what are you doing?"

The older woman jumped on her seat. She didn't hear Sorell, who snuck up on her.

"Eh, I was, eh, hmm." The older woman sweated buckets.

Sorell lowered her gaze, "aunㅡty, what's this secret you've been keeping? I'm grown now. You don't need to hide your love from me. Is it someone I know?"

"Sorell, it's not what you think."

"You've been so secretive. Come on, tell me," Sorell said as she made her way to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of bissap ginger Mireille made for her.

"It's work-related. So what movie are we watching tonight?"

"Half Of A Yellow Sun."

Mireille smiled, "that's a great choice."

Hi friends,

It's crazy how people don't let go of the celebrity ships they have in mind.

Okay, Sorell has made up her mind. 

I feel Ravan will stay behind.

Take care!