*Jiva=dance

"Ah, where is my beautiful gogo? Femi here," Nandi handed him a bag of fried chicken and soft drinks.

"What are you doing here, Nandi?" Thulile exclaimed, seeing her friend enter the house like Santa ready to distribute presents.

"I've come to prep you."

Thulile placed her hands on her hips, "for what?"

"I got invited to a rooftop party, and I can bring a few friends. Mabel and Sus will meet us there."

"Nandi, I can't."

With the food truck and the time spent with Lars, Thulile slept while being awake.

"Why? You need to unwind and stop thinking about that tsotsi [no gooder]," Nandi said as she followed her friend to her bedroom.

"I'm not thinking of him. The suffering is there. At the same time, I don't feel anything. I'm in pain, but at the same time, I feel indifferent."

"Thulile, you cried for that man while being with him. You grieved during all those years. He brought you bags, but he didn't offer you the love you deserve. Finally, he got engaged with another woman in your face, and you're surprised not to be sad," Nandi clapped in her hands, "Eish if I catch him, he's dead. Stop giving yourself pointless headaches. You know what you need, a good bounce. Another man to jux you."

Thulile shook her head, "I don't want another love."

"I'm not talking about love but fun, no strings attached. Just body to body, heat to heat," Nandi said and hugged herself to emphasize.

Nandi had the raw language. She was frank and never got played. The woman had this untamed confidence Thulile wished she had. She knew she would get trapped if she tried such games, unlike her friend.

"Nandi, you know I can't do such things."

"Why not? What is holding you back? Nothing. We are hot and pretty Mzansi girls. Sista, let's jiva and watch them gravitate around us like bees."

Thulile sighed and went to shower; she needed a distraction anyway. Dancing was always a good option when one wished to forget.

Nandi then proceeded to do light makeup. Thulile only went out to dance and not to impress. She hated heavy foundations that ended up melting no matter the brand and promises.

A little concealer and powder to absorb the drops of sweat that would venture out. The lips were glossy but in a neutral tint.

Thuile went to open her wardrobe when Nandi grasped by the shoulders and ushered her back to the bed.

"Nandi?"

"Remember the outfits I bought thinking I'd fit them when I lose weight. Well, I didn't lose any, and the thirty days refund time has run out. Your waist is smaller than mine. I'm sure the stuff will fit you. Try these," Nandi shared everything with Thulile as a sister would. One could insult or be mean to her, but they were dead if they dared do anything to Thulile.

If someone asked Thulile what was the best thing she ever did. It was becoming friends with the new girl. Even without making Nandi coffee, Thulile knew she was destined to greatness. Nandi had the aura and the stars aligned to pave the way. Her father had told Thulile some people were born to trailblaze through life. No matter how people tried to destroy them, they would always triumph to accomplish what they were born to do.

Nandi was of the lucky lot, and Thulile knew it was a matter of time before Nandi exploded. She deserved it and more in her friend's opinion.

Nandi frowned, "sista, why are you looking at me like that? I said find a good man, not me."

"I love you, Nandi."

"Eish, we haven't even drank, and you are already fanning me with I love yous."

They stood in front of the mirror. Nandi wore a zebra-print mini dress while Thulile was in high waist faux leather pants and a white one-strap asymmetric top.

Nandi laughed as she watched her friend duck down, flex her knees and stretch to verify she could move.

"Nandi, my gran will never let me out with my back looking like someone used a pump to blow it up with helium."

"Sista, who do you think you are talking to?"

The time had come. Nandi had a recipe to get Thulile out of the house that never failed.

"Gogo, how come you are so beautiful? Eh, I must find you a husband. Femi, watch gogo well, a serenader might come here at night. Bonne appetite, gogo eat."

"Ah, Nandi, stop," laughed Thulile's gran as she cut a piece of fried chicken Nandi bought. Still, her eyes followed her granddaughter, who discreetly put on her shoes.

"Thulile, where are you going? "The elder was immune to Nandi's flatteries.

"Gogo, I have a premiere. You know how I'm a superstar now. I can't do this without my lucky charm," Nandi said, taking Thulile in her arms.

"Hmm," the older woman said, eying both her grandaughter and Nandi up and down before saying, "be careful."

"Gogo, has anything ever happened to Thulile while she's with me? I will slap up anyone who touches my baby."

"I wasn't talking about Thulile alone. You too, Nandi, be careful."

Thulile worked hard. Even if seeing them go out frightened her, Thulile's gran didn't feel she had to right to prevent the woman from having fun.

The girls were out, and they headed to the Cooper Bar situated in Bryanston, Sandton Johannesburg. Cars paved the streets. One could see the beaming lights miles away. The venue was one of those events one threw down bedspreads in knots to climb out not to miss.

"Nandi, are you sure we'll get in?" Thulile said while she held her friend's arm.

"What, you doubt me. I said I'm invited."

They met Mabel and Sus, who parked not far from the rooftop. The girls had bought drinks. Thus, their before-party was two streets away from the venue.

"Thulile, here, sista," Mabel said and handed her a bottle. "If there's one of us who deserves to drink, it's you."

Everyone knew about Elijé's engagement and how poor Thulile got played.

The girls toasted, "jiva is life."

They drank then toasted to "men are a nuisance."

They then put on the Spotify to get into the ambiance and danced with their bottles in hand. Izolo by Dj Maphorisa, John Wick De Mthuda featuring Sir Trill, 66 Felo Le Tee, Bopha, and many more the girls got their groove on while listening to trending Amapiano tracks. Life was too short to let it eat them alive.

And as Nandi announced, they got into the select venue.

"Lars, what are you doing?" Steven asked when he found his friend staring at the south African sky as though he waited for aliens to land.

Stevens put his arm around his shoulder, "Come on, man, you guys can't keep up with this."

Lars wondered how steven convinced him to attend this event. He was done with parties, and there he was on a rooftop with steven Dalai and a few other guys of the entrepreneur's repertoire.

"Wow, you deem grace us with your presence Lars?" Dalai said with his usual sarcastic tone. There was the arrogant douchebag in every group, and Dalai wore the crown like a king.

"If you don't want me here, I can leave," Lars said. He wasn't in the mood for Dalai's bossy takes.

"Oh, stop it. We're friends, have a seat."

Lars and Steven sat down the moment Thulile&co arrived. The girls went straight to the bar. Nandi's contact also gave her access to drinks.

"Nandi, come clean, tell us who sponsored you."

"Why are you like this? I sponsored myself."

Mabel lowered her gaze, "Nanda, speak. God is watchin'."

"Okay, the owner's wife came to the salon and recognized me. She said having influencers at such venues was good for business."

The girls nodded, and Sus patted Nandi on the shoulder," sista, kief, you are the MVP."

Where he was Lars was two seconds from calling it a night when a group of girls surrounded the Dj's mix table as a song where all a non-African heard was something-something Woza began.

Unlike the other women there who were stoosh and kept up their facade, these four women danced without caring. What captured Lars' attention and made him leave his seat was a woman with leather pants that seemed sowed on her body.

Lars had not drank enough to think it was a hallucination. Like the first time Lars saw Thulile, she drew the man to her. Unfortunately, the girls dancing reeled in other people who came to fill the dance space stopping the man in his progression.

Again Steven came to fetch him, "man, what's wrong with you?"

"She's here."

"Who?" Steven said.

Lars nodded in Thulile's direction. Steven pushed up his glasses rims, "oh, I see."

The men watched the women who transformed the supposedly casual but stuck-up night into a festival of joy. Those who knew the dance moves imitated the steps they did. The man retained some were associated with specific songs. Lars knew some from Amapiano Tik Toks he Steven watched when he sought to find Thulile. Of course, he didn't dance.

Thulile was relieved to have thought to wear her sneakers which facilitated the dancing. Only Nandi and Mabel wore heels, while Sus preferred displaying her masculinity in a PLEASURES tracksuit and sneakers. The masc lesbian often portrayed the knight in shining armor when they went out. All she had to do was hold one of her friends by the waist for men to imagine they were lesbians.

Lars didn't know how long he stood watching them, but the instant he blinked, Thulie stood dancing in front of him. As always, she seemed to defy him. The music played a song where the only word Lars captured sounded like Ngixolele. The beat for this song was slower, and many left the center floor, but he and Thulile remained in this secret space which was theirs.

"Who is the man with Thulile?" Mabel asked when she joined Nandi on the side.

Nandi smiled, "he's her ticket out of hell."

Hi,

It's late, but I just wanted to publish. It must be messy, I'll clean it tomorrow.

I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Take care.