‘Everything okay?’
‘Hey, sorry, real quick. Do you think I have what it takes for the other role?’
I frowned. ‘What other role?’
‘The guy who’s going to ask for your number after his audition so he can fetch you lunch and maybe, if he’s lucky, sit and eat it with you?’
‘Man. That was . . .’
He looked embarrassed. ‘Yeah. I know. Too late now. If you’re gonna reject me could you do it softly so I don’t weep through my audition?’
I smiled. ‘I . . . reckon you have potential.’
I decided to watch the award show. I said goodbye to Kameela and switched on the TV just as they were about to announce his category. I found that my hands were prickling, that my heart was punching hard against my chest, which was odd, because it obviously made no material difference to me whether he won or n— oh my God, he won. He won. Seye Ojo. I heard that right, didn’t I? My phone buzzed. It was Kameela with a series of exclamation marks. I definitely heard that right. I sat back on my sofa as my eyes blurred, laughing giddily, waiting for him to accept, when the presenter’s chirpy voice announced that ‘Unfortunately, Seye’s not able to be with us this evening, but his mother will be accepting the award on his behalf—’
I didn’t hear the rest over the cacophony of my frantic thoughts. Why would he miss his first British award show? Also, why would he even be in this country if he wasn’t going to show up? Was he okay? I was about to pick up my phone to call Malik and find out if he had any valuable information to give me when his mother’s voice drew my focus back to the TV.
‘My son has always been brave. Always dreamt bigger than I dreamt for him. I didn’t always support him the way I should have, because I was scared. Scared that the world would reject him. I thought I was protecting him. But my son has always taken risks for the things he loves and that is why I admire him. It’s the reason why I am accepting the award this evening on his behalf instead of him. He’s taking a risk of the heart. He’ll kill me for saying that. Anyway, he would like to thank—’
Wait, what? Has he eloped to Las Vegas with Riley Dawn or something? We always joked about doing that as a political stance against the capitalistic circus surrounding weddings. In their case, it would just be a press gimmick to cement themselves as a ‘quirky’ Hollywood couple. Tacky. My heart dropped and I felt panic rising up in me when there was a knock on my door. This was alarming for many reasons, not limited to but including: I lived on the fifth floor, you needed a key to get into my building and it was nearly midnight. I really hoped it wasn’t my neighbour who listened to Eminem on repeat for hours, because that much commitment to aggressive white man rap scared me a little.
Not bothering to pull on any bottoms to complement my baggy shirt, I paused the TV and crept to the door, grabbing a bread knife from the kitchen just in case I needed protection.
‘Who is it?’ I called, before even looking into the peephole.
‘It’s me.’ I dropped the knife. I held still; the wind completely knocked out of me. There was a gruff clearing of the throat. ‘Sorry, I mean it’s Seye. Someone let me in on the ground floor. I got your address from Kam. Don’t be mad at her. I basically begged and she dragged me to hell before she gave it to me.’ He paused, ‘Now that I’m saying all this out loud, though, I’m hearing how creepy it is for me to be standing outside your door at midnight with no forewarning.’
I looked at my mirror by the door. This is not how I expected our reunion to go. I was meant to look glamorous, not hair tied up in a headscarf with eyeliner-smudged eyes and a large faded T-shirt covered in granola. It was meant to be at an industry event where I was wearing a dress that accentuated my ass. I’d have to make do. This was casual chic, right?
After a few moments of silence, he said, ‘You’re right. I should go. I’m sorry. It’s just . . . it’s just I was on the way to the ceremony with my mum and she kept asking me what was wrong. She said there was something off about me. And I didn’t know what to tell her, T. Like this should have been one of my proudest moments. Being recognised in my hometown . . . but I felt like something was missing. Someone. Mum knew, though. She said part of the reason she came round to me acting is when you went to see her and said that her lack of support was hurting me. I didn’t know you did that, T. I know this is mad, but the award honestly doesn’t mean anything without—’