Lars told her to speak to her family. Thulile had nothing to say to them. It wasn't her gran or Femi who would be against the possibility of making money, especially if drugs, sex, and alcohol weren't involved.

As promised, Lars came the next day, with his computer this time. Since there was no wifi around the truck, the man returned to the cafe where he got the coffee holder. He brought a muffin followed by a cheesecake and sat to work while drinking Thulile's coffee.

The cafe's employees were speechless in front of Lars' unruly behavior, but they could not throw him out since he brought something from them.

Back at the truck, Palesa decided to take the temperature of the situation, "He's earnest about this project. Perhaps we won't need the truck soon. It would be nice to work in a cafe with toilets."

"Palesa, I haven't said yes yet."

"But you're not going to say no. Your father will roll in his grave if you do."

"How do you know what my father would do? He never used coffee to make benefits. My father helped people all his life."

"And look at how it ended. Thulile you need to live properly and you can with your gift. I'm sure you'll still help many by working with this man, and I also believe you'll be aiding yourself. There's nothing wrong or greedy about helping oneself."

Lars returned to the truck and asked Thulile what she needed to get started. Again she protested, and they bickered like an old couple before Lars called it a day.

That night, when Thulile got home, she tried to call Elije, but all her calls got diverted to voice mail. She missed him, seeing Lars every day weighed.

Thulile had the impression she was getting accustomed to him and his sharp English accent, his perfect teeth, and blue eyes. He wasn't her type of man; correction, Thulile didn't know a man like Lars could attract her.

His eyes captivated her, and she was unable to turn her gaze away when he spoke. The act reassured Lars, who remembered having read somewhere that if a woman turned away her eyes, it meant the person appealed to them. Thulile always stared straight into his.

The woman's reaction proved she wasn't interested in him, and it was for the better. If only he knew, some would say.

Lars wished for them to make big money and nothing had to get in the way of that one ultimate goal.

After five attempts, Thulile gave up on the call. Instead, she clicked on her Tik Tok app and slid through the posts until she fell on her cup. This time her finger didn't slip; she went on the profile.

Mr. Nobody

83k followers

1.2 million likes.

Caption:

My shoes aren't that comfortable.

Coffee keeps me sane.

Social media offered the quickest and most efficient way of figuring out how a person was. Thulile convinced herself it was customary to want to find out more about her business partner and that if he had a profile, it meant he wished people to know.

She scrolled down to the birth of the account and oldest videos. They showed Lars in Stockholm.

He had a large group of friends. Some videos were in bars and nightclubs; he looked like a very outgoing person. There were videos of him at work. He seemed to like to play pranks in an open office space.

What kind of employee was he? Thulile thought as she saw Lars chuck a rubber at the head of a 3D designer; before making funny faces in front of the man. The person kept working as though Lars wasn't there. The caption was Moder Yord hashtag-focused experts. There were many videos with the Moder Yord hashtag.

The man seemed to be proud to be part of this Swedish company that Thulile learned as she viewed more videos made furniture. From time to time, a man that resembled Lars with longer hair appeared in his videos; he made funny faces too.

Then the Moder Yord videos stopped. The ones that followed were quotes. Sad songs played in the background. When Lars resurfaced in his videos, it was under the covers with the redness of a drunk face and that glow in the dark Blair witch style. The messages there were:

I want to die.

Someone stop this.

It keeps getting worse.

Thulile wondered why the man didn't erase these videos that showed his vulnerability. This type of behavior was definitely a white person's thing. Rare were the black people who exposed their mental state. If someone revealed some kind of mental instability in Joburg, people would say they were possessed and needed to go to church.

No, depression and anxiety were not things Asians and Africans liked to sing about because their communities didn't believe the disorders touched everyone, including them.

It wasn't rare to hear people laughing or mocking black Afro-Americans or black Europeans who spoke out about the pathologies. There were even disclaimer videos where some would do a duet with the person speaking of depression.

"See them; that is pure brainwashing."

"That's what happens when you don't believe in God."

Those were the type of comments Thulile was used to seeing and hearing.

In front of her screen, Thulile suddenly had doubts.

What if Lars fell into that dark hole again?

Even if the following videos showed Lars rising from the dead like a phoenix Thulile still questioned the man's mental health.

The woman had no time to babysit; she had her issues. From her standing point, she was a poor and desperate soul who could pretext depression. Lars was wealthy, and from the looks of things, he had a loving family. It was almost outrageous to see him with watery eyes and his I-can't-get-out-of-bed hashtag OBLIVION.

Lars' account threw shade and discredit on the man. Despite this, one could say it was popular. The older videos didn't seem to have an impact on the thirst messages or following.

Again, perhaps people didn't stalk in the man's video archives.

His latest videos were her cups, and to them, Lars attached positive thoughts:

Perhaps, I can make it.

A cup a day keeps the doctor away.

I am feelin' myself.

She makes me smile.

Thulile blinked; the last caption went with the cup she wrote Idiot.

The woman kissed her teeth, "idiot," she muttered while her heart hiccupped on its beat.

Thulile got up and went to make the Chakalaka dish they would eat with samp&beans.

"Femi."

"Yes."

"Come."

The boy came, "go and buy some Braai [grilled meat] not too smoked gran can't eat it otherwise."

They did not eat meat every day, but Thulile tried to include it in their meals when she could.

Thulile took out the pan and added the oil after cutting the onion, garlic, and ginger. She threw them in and stirred, waited two minutes, added two peppers and one Maggi cube. She shook the pan by the handle once more and added two grated carrots and curry powder. Finally, she threw in tomatoes and tomato paste and let the whole pot boil for six minutes.

How Thulile wished she had a huge beautiful kitchen with frying pans hanging from the ceiling like those, she saw in some luxury homes.

The woman stopped what seemed like a mirage came off somewhat attainable with Lars' offer.

What was wrong with using her gift for a better life?

It wasn't like she would swindle someone or do the things Kungawo did.

Speaking of which, Thulile had not seen Kungawo since, and she wondered when he would come to spook her.

Thulile took out her phone and tried to call Elije again.

The man let the phone vibrate in his pocket. Gisele's father had arrived from Florida the night before for the engagement party. They were now twenty-four hours from the event. Elije had no time to speak to Thulile but planned to do it before the wedding.

"So Elije, your mother told me you want to start investing?"

"Yes, I already have shares in my mom's cosmetic brand. I'm open to other opportunities. I like the idea of making money while I'm sleeping.

Mr. Burke laughed, "that's the spirit. I've always encouraged Gisele to do so too, but she doesn't seem to be interested. I'll be happy to help you."

"I don't see the point of making more money than I need. Besides, I'll have a husband who will do it in his sleep; why stress?" Gisele said and turned to smile at her fiancé.

The relaxed ambiance distracted Eljie, who no longer thought of Thulile.

Gisele was a great woman, intelligent and thoughtful. She wasn't demanding, and her love was measured. Their story wasn't an arranged marriage. The parents just made sure the two met. They got along, and the rest was history.

Behind the union laid impactful financial deals as Mr. Burke-Bridges had a mastodon pharmaceutical company and shares in many others. Elije's and Gisele's marriage had many benefits.

The news of the engagement didn't escape the vigilance of Dalai, who immediately saw an opportunity.

"Hello."

"Hi Lars, how are you, man. I hope you're not wallowing your money you lost."

"I'm good."

"Great, what are you doing tomorrow night."

"Eh, nothing, why?"

"Remember I told you about this huge engagement party where many investors will be present, and you said you come."

"Yes."

"Well, it's tomorrow. I knew you wouldn't remember the date. So I thought I'd remind you. Be ready for eight tomorrow, okay. It's a great opportunity for you."

"Yeah, yeah."

Dalai was a shark, the kind of self-made man who lived by one motto: No excuses. Everyone had a purpose, for Dalai Lars was an investment, a prawn amongst many others. The only difference was at least he could have fun with him.