Grace marched, determined. Her footsteps low against the concrete stairs, she was grateful for the shoes she wore, the building housed the offices of lecturers from the department of human kinetics and except if one wanted to incur the wrath of the professors and doctors then it was advisable to ensure decorum. Her high from earlier had faded totally, she was reminded how things always became so sour for her. At least now, she could stomp her foot in all rage without raising alarm, all thanks to her soundless converse.

She was never allowed a moment of rest or joy before reality came swooping down to slap her in the face. She was beginning to think she was cursed.

In her haze of rage and shame she was ignorant of the fast approaching steps until the stranger careened straight into her, almost knocking her to the ground. At the last minute, she pulled into the warmth of a male chest. The subtle scent of sweat and spicy cologne hit her pleasantly in the nose.

She drew back with a fierce scowl, it was a facade to the tears threatening to bubble to the surface. As her gaze collided with the strangers, her anger faded slightly giving way to curiosity and awe.

"You are white." She said. It was the stranger's turn to scowl at her. That was probably not the right thing to say.

"I'm Asian, I'm far from white." He snapped.

He had the strangest eyes she had ever seen, one was a gray colour and the other was a dark brown. Heterochromia, Grace recalled, an anatomical condition in which multiple pigmentations or colorings occur in the eyes, skin or hair.

Those eyes glared at her, he had the palest skin too, and a small mouth that suited his features. He was handsome but he reminded Grace of a delicate flower and his hair was a chestnut colour. He was skinny too, Grace's paternal grandmother would have taken one look at him and stuffed his face with lots of food. She used to say to whoever cared to listen, no one finds beauty in bones. She took it as her responsibility to fill the stomachs of everyone around her.

"I can see that." She snapped. Her anger slowly returning in waves, apologize now, the reasonable part of her head told her.

"Can you?" He snorted. God, He even sounded delicate and like royalty. Grace racked her brain and tried to remember if she had seen him around, granted, the university was big and there was a slim chance she had ever seen him but he looked familiar and he sounded familiar.

"You definitely cannot, especially since you crashed into me." He reminded scornfully. He spoke without a trace of any exotic accent, he spoke with the confidence of a native English speaker.

"Maybe if you weren't so deep in your ass, you would have seen me." She shot back. She took a step forward, bumping past him and ignoring at the curses he spoke at her. In fluent Yoruba.

No matter how fascinating he might be, she had worse things to deal with than an overbearing Chinese boy who spoke Yoruba too fluently. She looked back, quickly to flip him the bird, temporarily savouring the look of disdain and surprise mixed on his face. His furrowed brows and downward turned lips pleased her very much.

Grace found her sister amongst the crowd at the rows of shops and cyber cafes behind the faculty of arts. The sun shone on her like a spotlight as people peered mockingly at her. A wave of exhaustion crashed onto Grace, her anger faded away as she drew nearer to the sight She felt a pang of unwanted pity for her sister, a stranger might not notice it, but she definitely saw the crushing sadness in Ewatomi's eyes, the sadness she tried desperately to hide but failed woefully in her fake smiles.

"Fine girl like that dey steal," One boy muttered, eyeing her sister with mockery and pity. Grace gritted her teeth, it was a common saying that Nigerians never complimented each other until they were caught committing crimes, you would hear things like, fine boy dey steal or see as that girl fine reach yet she dey beg.

Grace wondered how long she would continue to bail her sister out of the same mess. Ewatomi Ilori was a stunner, she turned heads wherever she went with her fine features, long legs and subtle curves that made other girls envy her. Her face was oval shaped and dimples peeked out anytime she grinned. All her life, Grace had been in her sister's shadow and she was content with it, attention wasn't something she pursued.

The only flaw was the fact that her sister was a kleptomaniac, a compulsive thief, it was like the universe's punishment for her beauty. Ewatomi hadn't always been a thief, it began when she was nine and it had never stopped. Like every normal Nigerian parent, they all thought she was cursed by her 'village' people. Not even all the churches and mosques could cure her sister.

Ewatomi was the family's dirty secret. And frankly, Grace was tired of taking care of her. She pushed her way through the crowd, someone pulled at her backpack and she elbowed them, hearing a curse thrown at her. She ignored it, curses weren't new to her.

Ewatomi stood at the centre of it all, held by the helm of her figure hugging gown by a chubby woman - in dirty jeans and an oversized T-shirt - who Grace presumed to be the woman she stole from.

"Thief! I will not let you go until you pay for what you stole." She shouted, spittle flying from her mouth. Ewatomi shrunk back in disgust as a drop landed on her dark cheek. She scrubbed it away furiously.

"I returned what I took, I'm not paying for anything." She said calmly. The worst part was how calm she looked, like this was an everyday thing for her. Grace hated her for that.

"You are a thief."

"Get your hands off me." Ewatomi warned weakly.

"What did my sister steal?" Grace cut in impatiently. The woman pursed her lips and glanced at her.

"Your sister? You had better take this girl to church or to army school so they can flog the evil spirit out of her body." The woman advised. Another thing Grace hated about Nigerian adults apart from their annoying disposition - the unsolicited advice they shared -

Grace didn't want to cause any scene that would end with her losing a tooth or two, or worse ending up a meme on the internet so she nodded like a meek child.

"Yes ma. What did she steal?"

The woman broke her gaze to glare at Ewatomi who stared ahead unblinkingly.

"My phone." The woman said, she waved an old Nokia smartphone in Grace's face, her other hand still tightly gripping Ewatomi's clothe. The crowd of students were beginning to disperse now, they were bored and would move on to the next exciting incident. Grace was thankful the whole scene was not being recorded on a phone, it wouldn't be the first time it had happened.

"As she ran, the phone fell and the screen cracked. I want my money to replace it." She said, letting out a venomous hiss.

Grace sighed and fished out the crumpled five hundred note in her pocket, chucking it in the woman's outstretched hand. That was the last money she had on her and now it was wasted.

Satisfied, the woman let go of Ewatomi and walked into her shop, not before throwing one final shrewd glance.
"You owe me a great deal." Grace snapped.

Tomi rolled her eyes as she smoothed the wrinkles on her gown.

"And so you keep reminding me every damn day of my life." She said bitterly. "I'm surprised you even came."

"You could have called Sanmi." Grace said tartly.

"Yet I called you, maybe I should have called our junkie of a brother, you mean. You are selfish Grace."

"I never abandon my family. You should be grateful because I am tired of fishing you and Sanmi out of every mess, I'm tired of being an elder sister and a father to the both of you. I've neglected myself for this family. You have no right to judge." Grace snapped back.

Tomi sighed and adjusted her handbag on her shoulders. Grace tried to recall a time when the both of them had been close but she could not, those days were far away, gone and buried and burned down like their whole family would soon be.

"I have a class to get to. Don't worry, I'll try not to steal anything." She mumbled, brushing past her sister. Head high and ignorant of the looks she got from people.

Grace watched her go without another word, her sister strutting off into the sunset like a disgraced hero. She was too busy staring off into space to notice the quick stranger slipping a piece of paper into her backpack.

-----

Kendrick Yong plastered a smile on his lips as he watched the Lagos state university football team train under the afternoon sun. He jerked his left leg impatiently. All eleven boys ran around the track surrounding the football field while the burly, short coach barked inaudible commands. It was the first official training in the new semester and during the holidays the team had won some cup Kendrick could not be bothered to remember the name.
They now gathered around the coach as he boosted the team with his famous pep talks, Kendrick could tell by the way they nodded and pumped their fists in the air. The pavilion was half full, the students couldn't be bothered with something as irrelevant as watching football drills. Only a few guys and fewer girls actually sat to watch the team train. The rest sat to gist with friends or relax under the shade of the pavilion and from the glare of the sun.

A few girls sat to giggle over the handsome and shirtless players. Kendrick couldn't help but roll his eyes every time he heard them speak. He thought he was safe from the gossips until he saw one of them point a finger in his direction. The rest sighed and stared dreamily at him, probably comparing him to some kdrama star.
If he got one more compliment comparing himself to Lee Min Ho then he would punch someone or something.

Kendrick had lived more than half of his life in Nigeria, his father was a Chinese businessman that had gotten the idea of moving his construction business to a more lucrative country, his idea had bloomed into a multi millionaire empire and eventually he had expanded his business worldwide but he never moved back to his country. His mother was a Korean woman. He often got admiration glances whenever he spoke of his heritage to acquittances but they never understood how disconnected he felt to both heritages, heritages that were a part of him. He could barely speak both languages and knew close to nothing about his extended family.

He loved Nigeria and the country was a small part of him but he yearned to know his native countries. Strangers found it weird when they learnt he could fluently speak English without an Chinese or Korean accent, they dropped their jaws further when they discovered he could speak Yoruba fluently too.

Soon, he comforted himself, in a matter of two years he would graduate and have the freedom to return to his land of birth. Maybe he would have left the country earlier, if not for the death of his best friend. A mystery he still struggled to solve, they had chalked up his best friend's murder to being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Kendrick knew better. Emmanuel had dabbled with dangerous people.

He just needed to find the killer, he had a pretty good start too.

Because of Emmanuel, he had moved his life and education all the way from the capital state to Lagos state to the chagrin of his mother and father.

He sighed as he noticed from the corner of his eye as one of the giggling girls rose and began to approach him. She was a chubby lady with fair skin and a bright smile.

She sat down besides him and tapped his shoulder.

"Hi," She said.

He smiled thinly. On a good day, he might have been flattered by her attention but all he felt now was a simmering irritation.

"Hello." He said slowly. Kendrick had been told he had a feminine lilt in his tone, he often spoke softly and never raised his voice in anger.

"Are you waiting for someone?" She asked, shifting closer to him. He shifted away slightly and watched in dismay as she leaned even closer.
"Actually, yes. I'm waiting for a friend." He told her.

She smiled as if he had given her the keys to New York.

"My name is Uche, what's yours?"

Kendrick was saved from answering when his friend approached with a grin. The team's training was over and the players had dispersed, some stayed behind to run extra laps around the track and others stayed to chat with each other. The coach walked away from the players, his gaze met Kendrick's and frowned before looking away.

His friend, Firepemi or commonly known as Fire, judging by the audience hailing his name loudly. He stopped to greet a few guys before reaching Kendrick and the girl sitting besides him, Uche.

"Fire is your friend?" She screeched. Kendrick ignored her, rising to his feet to greet Firepemi with the usual fist bump. He did not notice the girl slither away with a glare in their way.

"Bro, it's been a while." Kendrick said with a slight smile.

Fire laughed out loud, attracting the attention of about everybody. That was Fire, nonchalant about being stared at. As captain of the team, he probably got enough stares everyday, from enemies and well wishers alike.

"Ken, it's been three years." He punctuated his statement with a snort. "The last time I saw you, you were a skinny kid with beady eyes and look at you now, a full grown man."

"Is that muscles I see? I'm so proud of you, bro." He continued.

Kendrick punched his friend's arm playfully. "You shut up, old man."

Fire scowled.

"I'm only two years older than you."

Kendrick and Firepemi were best friends in secondary school, although they went their separate ways after secondary school, they stayed in touch and lost contact after a year and had only become friends again the previous year through Instagram.
Kendrick had made the decision to transfer from the university of Abuja to Lagos state University with Fire's encouragement.

"That makes you twenty two. You are real old." Kendrick teased. "I should be calling you big bro."

"Remember when our greatest fears was JAMB and what to get our girlfriends for Valentine. Now look at us. Big boys." Fire joked, he slung a muscled arm over Kendrick's shoulders.

Kendrick smiled at the thought, seventeen year old him did not know lay ahead of him. That was the best part of being a child, the ignorant bliss until adulthood knocked on the door. The whole joy of childhood and being a teenager was being stupid without a care.

"Secondary school was wild." Kendrick commented. He wondered why he succumbed to his parent's decision to attend University of Abuja when he could have followed Fire all the way to Lagos, then he remembered Emmanuel and instantly felt the tug of guilt in his chest.

"Fuck this shit, there's a party tonight at a club just out of campus, what do say? We check it out and repeat our wild days. It'll be fun like hell, you, me and the babes." He winked.

Kendrick snickered.

"I didn't know LASU was this wild, who the hell throws a party on the first school night." He said.

Fire shrugged nonchalantly, but his next words froze the happiness in Kendrick's smile. His smile slid off his face clean.

"Some book club called ORION."