MATERIAL BOYS

MATERIAL BOYS

Gay men are often touted as people known to possess a measure of wit and humour – an impressionable style and appearance too. If this was a standard with gay men, then it was no wonder Ifeanyi felt less and less gay whenever he was in the company of his friends.

They were ensconced now in the Cocoon Bar, a private bistro at a secluded spot where they had a 360 degree view of the environment, a vantage point that suited their roving eyes and sharp tongues very well. And seated amongst them, Ifeanyi found himself, as he often was, lost in his admiration of their coordinated outfits, expensive gadgets and the ease with which they threw barbs at each other and laughed over it.

Afflige was Kosi’s moniker for him. It pleased Kosi to no end to taunt Ifeanyi. To him, Ifeanyi was the group’s duff, a very subpar human being.

“Guys, guess what,” Edgar cooed just then, “my Texas boyfriend is getting me the iPhone 7.” He said this with some aplomb, smirking as he finished his announcement with a dramatic air, as though expecting to have made an impression.

Edgar had a native name which he abolished from his life the higher he rose in his social status. When he introduced himself to new acquaintances, he said “Hi, I’m Edgar” with the sangfroid you’d expect from single-named stars when they said “Hi, I’m Madonna” or “Hello, I’m Rihanna.”

“Uhm,” Kosi interjected, “is he getting you the plus model? Because, hunnay, that is the ish.”

There was a split second of silence as all eyes reverted to Edgar. It was evident from the suddenly chagrinned expression on his face that he knew he had sprung a trap on himself.

“I wouldn’t know…” he stuttered an explanation. “I just asked him and he –”

“Let me stop you right there, darling,” Kosi said, gesturing him to silence with a quick queenly wave of his hand. Then he dropped the phone in his hand on the table, before reaching into the crocodile-skin shoulder bag slung over the back of his chair to retrieve another phone, which he dropped next to the first. An iPhone 6 Plus and a Samsung Galaxy S6 stared mockingly back at Edgar, their LED lights blinking intermittently.

“As you can see,” Kosi drawled, “I own the iPhone 6 Plus and the Samsung Galaxy S6. These phones were the ish until recently. The more reason I have ordered for my iPhone 7 Plus with a rose-gold design, so I can stay comfy at the top of the gadget chain. Ain’t nobody got time to stay stuck in last season’s gadgets. The iPhone 7 Plus is the bomb, what with its water-resistant coating and the newly added taptic engine to boost the gadget’s user interface. I mean, you own it and everyone else expecting iPhone 7 from Texas boyfriends becomes your bitch.”

Kosi was a rapid talker. He was also very entertaining when he held court. When he spoke, he loved to interject with mannerisms, such as the twirling of his fingers, which he kept very manicured at all times, or the poignant flip of his imaginary hair extensions, especially in punctuation of whatever shade he’d successfully decimated someone’s destiny with. His barbs were always so well-aimed that they often had his audience reeling with laughter, except of course the victim, who’d either glare helplessly or want silently for the ground to consume him whole.

And that was so now, with the rest of the group laughing and Edgar looking daggers at Kosi.

“Well, this is certainly a word to the wise,” Morris said as laughter gurgled from him. “Don’t just demand for an iPhone. All iPhones are not the same. Demand for the plus, which is the ish.”

“I mean, there is a reason why there’s a plus and a minus,” Seyi said with a smirk and a pointed, eyebrow-raised look at Edgar.

“Oh shut up, Seyi,” Edgar snapped. “After all, is it not a Blackberry you’re using?”

“A Blackberry Priv, darling,” Seyi rejoined. “Say it with respect please. It’s the most expensive kind. But yes, we all know the Blackberry brand is a sinking ship, so I’m getting my iPhone 7 Plus next week. I no fit sidan carry last.”

And the group started laughing again.

Ifeanyi was thoroughly amused and fascinated by these guys, even though all their highfalutin talk left him feeling very uneasy. He hadn’t always rolled with them. He’d met McQueen for a hookup a month ago, and after a few trysts, their chemistry expired and both of them had settled into a platonic friendship. Following this, McQueen had introduced him to his own friends, Edgar, Morris, Seyi and Kosi, who fancied himself the Queen Bee of the bunch.

In the short period of him knowing them, Ifeanyi had gotten to know that Kosi was the fiercely independent one amongst them. Disowned by his parents for being gay a few years ago, he’d struck out on his own, and by every indication, was doing very well for himself. It was no secret however that his bread and butter lay in how good a time he gave the affluent men he fooled around with.

Edgar liked to talk too much, and was the neediest of the bunch. Seyi and Morris were offspring of wealthy homes, with Morris the more sophisticated of the two, what with all the holidays he usually spent with his family abroad. His Facebook page was full of pictures and videos of his fabulous lifestyle. Ifeanyi often wondered why he didn’t school abroad instead of the private university he attended in Nigeria. He was way out of the league of the others.

Actually, they all were way out of his league – even McQueen who came from an upper middle class family and was really named Nmaduabughichi. The Tecno Camon C8 Ifeanyi had nearly starved himself to death to buy had a spider-web crack emblazoned on the screen. Not even the fact that McQueen’s phone was a Tecno Phantom 6 Plus could make him feel good about being in the company of this plastic gang. McQueen had told him his sugar daddy from Lekki had bought the phone for him. Ifeanyi hadn’t had any reason to doubt him, until he happened on some texts in McQueen’s phone, texts from the infuriated Sugar daddy threatening fire and brimstone on McQueen for disappearing with the phone he’d just purchased after their one night stand at a hotel. Discovering that McQueen had stolen the phone didn’t diminish Ifeanyi’s admiration for the guy. Oh no. Instead it heightened his respect for such a person who’d do anything to boost his station in life, however unscrupulous what he had to do was.

There was a lull at the table after their laughter died down, as Edgar recovered from Kosi’s putdown. Everyone seemed busy swiping at and chatting on their devices. Ifeanyi sat there, idly contemplating every one of them. He always tried to stay invisible when he was in their midst, so great was his sense of inferiority. He never had any rejoinders for their shades and always kept the volume of his laughs low; one time he’d laughed too loud at something nasty Kosi said to Seyi, a smarting Seyi had turned on him and eviscerated him much to the delight of the others. Ifeanyi learned his lesson quickly.

And so, when his phone rang out suddenly, intruding on the silence at the table, he felt a surge of mortification darken his face as the attention of the others instantly became riveted on him.

“What kind of phone is that?” Edgar pounced.

“Is that a phone or a small joke?” Kosi added.

That stung. Laughter phalanxed on the table as Ifeanyi hurriedly picked the phone out of his pocket and silenced the ring. Glancing at the screen, he could see that it was his mother calling. He had no intention of answering the call; he already knew what she wanted. She’d earlier sent him off to buy kerosene with some money, which he had repossessed and tucked away into his savings in preparation of his purchase of a fairly used iPhone or Samsung phone. He’d already decided he would tell her he lost the money on his way to the gas station. But he couldn’t have that conversation now, not when these cats were within earshot.

Just then, Kosi emptied his glass of Chapman, and announced that he was leaving.

“The evening is far spent, darlings,” he purred as he side-hugged them one after the other. “And besides, my ride is here.” He pointed outside, and through the French windows, they could see a white-coloured LR3 pulling up at the entrance to the bistro’s compound, its headlamps puncturing the rapidly-falling light of the evening.

They watched Kosi saunter out of the room, his bag slung across his torso, as he moved in the direction of the car. Nobody alighted from the car. Kosi got to the passenger side of the front, pulled the door open and vanished inside. A second later, the car was reversing out of the compound.

“Ashawo,” McQueen cussed affectionately after Kosi.

“Abeg leave am,” Seyi said. “He’s doing what God approves of.”

“How do you figure?” Morris said with a laugh.

“Well, don’t they say that Heaven helps those who help themselves? Since his ministry is blooming, he must be doing it right and Heaven must be helping him a lot.”

This time, even Ifeanyi had to laugh out loud.

Morris finished his drink then and got up to leave, picking up his devices and car keys from the table – or rather, his mother’s car keys. Ifeanyi happened to know that for all their poshness, none of them owned a car.

“Guys, I have to get going,” he announced. “Our estate is doing this curfew nonsense, and I need to be home before it starts.”

“I have to leave too.” Seyi was getting up. “I’d forgotten my sister is coming over tonight to discuss her bridesmaids’ dresses with me.” Seyi was a gifted designer, and had only just started flourishing with his ideas and threads and fabrics.

Ifeanyi’s phone was buzzing again but he had ignored it. “Can I join you?” he asked Seyi, ignoring the alarm in McQueen’s stare and Edgar’s look of disdain.

Seyi paused to look him up and down for a brief second. “Join me?” he said with arched brows.

“Yes. For the night.”

Edgar and Morris began chortling, while McQueen gave a quick sorrowful shake of his head.

Seyi’s lips had curved into a coy smile as he said, “Sure, why not?”

Ifeanyi hid a smile of his own. He’d always suspected that Seyi had the hots for him. He didn’t like the guy himself; he wasn’t his type, what with his querulous nature and dark-skinned, slight-statured body. But he had made a decision a minute ago, and he was determined to give it a go.

It was time for him to climb the social ladder.

The five of them strolled out of the bistro  to the parking lot, idly gisting as Morris and Seyi unlocked the cars they came with. Edgar, who was going Morris’s way, slid into the red CR-V, while Ifeanyi walked over to the passenger side of Seyi’s Honda. McQueen made no move toward either car.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Seyi asked him.

“No. I am waiting for my boyfriend,” he replied.

Seyi turned on the ignition and the car purred to life. The headlamps came on as he eased the Honda out of the parking spot after Morris. As he drove toward the gate, he occasionally glanced at his rearview mirror at McQueen, who was still standing where they’d left him.

“Boyfriend, my ass,” he hissed. “Such a liar.”

Ifeanyi faked a laugh in response. He really didn’t like Seyi; the guy was much too catty for him. And that was why he’d get so much pleasure and no guilt from what he was going to do to him. There was much on his mind, much he had to sift through to be able to focus on his plan. There was his mother’s wrath to face at home. And then the fact that his family would somehow have to manage something for dinner since there was no kerosene to cook with. But all that had to wait till he got home to deal with them.

For now, he had to focus. With that determined thought, he reclined on the seat beside Seyi and thought about McQueen and his stolen phone.

Written by Peaches

Previous PHOTO OF THE DAY XCI
Next TIERs SYMPOSIUM: REUBEN ABATI IN THE DEN OF A SENSITIVE COMMUNITY

About author

You might also like

Fiction 24 Comments

LOVE BEYOND BORDERS

I remember when his hair caught fire. We were playing a game of chess at the dining table, with a candle since the rechargeable lamp was low on battery. He

Fiction 7 Comments

THE PAIN THAT CUTS DEEP

We ran that night in the rain. The streets were mostly deserted, and our panting laughter bubbled with abandon alongside the rumbling thunder that seemed to tear the heavens open

Our Stories 37 Comments

All That Matters

The kiss… It was important that you remembered the kiss because you knew. You don’t really know why, but you knew that you had to cherish that moment, that space

30 Comments

  1. Michael
    December 19, 07:50 Reply

    I work so hard to stay away from these lots.

    • Mandy
      December 19, 07:53 Reply

      I swear! This kind of group can destroy your self esteem if you’re still struggling to be sure of who you are and where you fit in.

  2. swanky
    December 19, 07:50 Reply

    Peaches I love this. It exudes sophistication.

  3. Mandy
    December 19, 07:58 Reply

    Cut your coat according to your size.
    That’s an aphorism that most gay men don’t understand. That is why you get those so desperate, they’d go to see a hookup and either steal from him or threaten him with kito just so they can get material stuff from him.
    May God help us.

  4. Kenny
    December 19, 08:31 Reply

    I once met a group like this, I felt so out of place and uncomfortable I took to my heels. And they were so so young.. ….

  5. Absalom
    December 19, 08:49 Reply

    Is there a sequel? This was well told and enjoyable.

    PS: And can we be specific about who we are referring to as “these lots” and “this bunch”? Hope izz nor what I’m thinking. ???

  6. Absalom
    December 19, 08:51 Reply

    The boys in the photo are really pretty. Those eyebrows, though – no chill!

  7. simba
    December 19, 09:05 Reply

    i use a cheap Tecno phone and its very helpful, does everything i need a phone to do for me.

    • ambivalentone
      December 19, 09:57 Reply

      #sigh Excuses, excuses!!! When are u gonna leave that miry clay of ‘basic’ and jump on the ‘plus’ wagon? Doesn’t the ring tone itself sound…Tecno?

  8. y
    December 19, 09:18 Reply

    I wish they’d drive those cars right off a cliff.

  9. Delle
    December 19, 09:24 Reply

    I hate such groups. What’s Ifeanyi doing there? On a journey to suicide.
    SMH.

  10. posh6666
    December 19, 09:28 Reply

    The stereotypical definition of empty headed, vain and fake gay boys..Usually those suffering from acute inferiority complex and insecurities.Who believe you can only be validated and respected as a human being if you use expensive phones at all cost..I stay very far away from such air heads and desperadoes. …

    Very thin line between wanting good things and working towards achieving it and stupidity of trying to belong at all cost.. I mean why buy an iPhone when you are still struggling and have to empty your bank account when you can save up that money and buy a plot of land…

    Lool I know someone in here that is everywhere on social media shouting and screaming about how much he desires an iPhone at the old age of 27 which his bank account can’t afford so pathetic….

    • ambivalentone
      December 19, 10:03 Reply

      That exactly what the gaybourhood is most times. I mean wasn’t it here some twat was encouraging having titled sugar daddies to step up social ladders? Most gay guys ARE air-brained bimbos who aren’t thinking about anything else but working their arses off or hands off literarily.

    • Delle
      December 19, 12:11 Reply

      I wouldn’t use vain and insecure on them. There are those that are just high-handed and ostentatious mostly because they can afford to be.

      Well, many a time, growth does a lot to this kind. Men in their 30s won’t be so spiked up by things like this.

      • Bryce
        December 19, 14:41 Reply

        Posh is right.
        They mainly are vain,insecure and empty-headed numbskulls

  11. Colossus
    December 19, 09:37 Reply

    Everybody working hard to stay away from such group, who come dey the group ni?

    • KryxxX
      December 19, 14:15 Reply

      Well well…. …. … .. ? ??. We shaa know ourselves, don’t we gurls?✋✋✋✋ ??????. **giving Pink Panther the oduanya**

  12. peaches
    December 19, 10:16 Reply

    lol. thank you guys. I don’t see these bunch as vain tho. especially those who can afford it, the ones from wealthy families. to be tech savvy is not a sin, just a luxury. you either have it or u don’t.

    • ambivalentone
      December 19, 10:33 Reply

      But when its a ‘be all’ of your every convos, it becomes a wee bit irritating. A mental reminder that I might go hungry for months if I grab the phone and smash it to the ground is such a deterrent

  13. Nel
    December 19, 11:32 Reply

    And there exists people like this.

    Well, if they have a life outside their gadgets… Fine. If not…. Whew.

    But Ify ehn… Racing on this lane is suicidal.
    Sequel please ?

  14. Fresh
    December 19, 14:12 Reply

    There’s no harm using a luxury phone if you can afford it. But Ify should stay away from them.

    • El
      January 06, 14:28 Reply

      I believe Ifeanyi is about to do something crazy to Sayi. Avenge probably. Remember he didn’t see anything wrong in stealing from causal hookups. We should all know where he’s heading to, and that way he can still return the kerosene money.

  15. peaches
    December 19, 16:32 Reply

    Fresh u are a darling. I actually put him there for a reason.

  16. Mitch
    December 19, 18:06 Reply

    Bitches like these can wreak massive damage on anyone’s psyche. If you can’t be around them and remain who you are, biko, run for ya life.

  17. Bryann
    December 21, 14:49 Reply

    People of high standard fake lives…. Theyre just everywhere. Almost always, these set of people are also liars, cox they must lie to keep up. Ostentatious lifestyle is cool only when you can afford it.

  18. Bryan Peters
    December 25, 22:18 Reply

    Awesome story. I love your choice of words; very apt. Looking forward to the sequel

Leave a Reply