Anita walked majestically into the studio a few minutes past eleven. No one who saw her would have believed she had been a victim of rape just a few hours ago. She had stopped weeping, freshen up, applied a few makeups to brighten up her face and cladded herself in a very beautiful grown.
All those who saw her walking in had no choice but to drink in the wine of her beauty.

‘Anny babe, you are looking great.’ Said Omotola a vocalist working in the studio.
‘Thanks so much, Omotee.’ She blushed as she walks past her into the main studio.
‘What a lovely damsel you are Anny, please allow me to kiss your hand.’ Joked Tunde her producer as he grabbed her hand.
‘Stop that joor Naughty guy.’ She snatched her hand from him and pulled off her jacket.
‘Pretty, feed me with your heart and I will never go hungry.’ Jeered Peter the studio engineer.
‘Stop all that jare, let’s get to business.’ She said as she brought out her diary and entered the studio.

A few keys were pressed and the whole place was buzzing. Anita recited the verses she had written in her diary carefully to make sure it blends with the beat being played. After singing for about fifty seconds, the beat suddenly stopped.
‘Anny put in your best into the music. The lyrics are ok and so is your voice, don’t kill your creativity.’ Advised Tunde before he replayed the beat for Anita to add her voice to.
Anita started singing again, taking her lyrics from the beginning. She had almost got to the end when the beat was killed again.

‘I think it’s lunchtime, everyone go get lunch.’ Tunde suggested and everyone stared strangely at him.
‘But we just started.’ Protested Peter.
‘Am hungry, can’t work on an empty stomach. Anita, let’s go get something to eat.’ Said Tunde.
Anita was about to protest when he took her hand and literally dragged her out of the Studio.

‘Anny, what happened to you?’ Asked her producer over a cup of coffee.
‘Nothing, why did you ask?’ replied Anita.
‘You didn’t sing like the Anita I know.’
‘Am all right, maybe the cold water I drank on my way affected my voice.’
‘You can’t kid me, Anita, I know you are not happy.’ He said and Anita’s tears suddenly erupted from her eyes.
Tunde gave her a handkerchief to wipe her tears.
‘Whatever the pain is release it out, don’t let it continue to eat you up.’ Her producer advised.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Segun’s car gently glided into Eko hotel where the show was taking place. Immediately he got out of the car with one of his boys, he was greeted by music blaring out of the hall.
‘Dj Felix is really killing the show.’ Segun said.
‘He is doing good.’ The second guy added as they walked into the hall.
Immediately he got in, all the media trying to cover the event rushed to him. He found himself cornered by reporters just as Benson had predicted but he had prepared for them.

‘Dj Nature, what do you have to say on the fact that you beat your girlfriend to a pulp?’ A male reporter asked.
‘Dj Nature, what has she done to deserve such a wicked treatment from you?’ A female reporter asked.
‘People said you were under the influence of drugs when you did it, is that true?’ A male reporter asked.
‘Sir, is a lady anything to you other than a sex object?’ Another female reporter asked.

‘Sometimes what you think you see crystal clear might just be an illusion.’ Segun responded before he motioned for the security to clear the way.
‘Are you trying to say you weren’t the one in the video?’ Another reporter asked but Segun didn’t wait to hear him finish the question before he proceeded to the stage.
Dj Felix stepped aside for his boss and Dj Nature got behind the wheel. He played two of his skits before he began his magic. With his two hands on the turntable, he started an incredible scratching. The crowd roared joyfully as he scratched and when he eventually stopped, he slammed in a very lovely tune.

Had he not been completely engrossed in the world of music, maybe he might have dodged what someone from the crowd threw at him but he didn’t see it coming. Suddenly, it landed on his white shirt and leaving a reddish stain. He looked down and saw a small rag on the floor, it had a smell of a lady’s monthly period.



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