Chapter 2|Second Impressions.

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Second Impression.

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Flaunting myself in those new pumps on social media wasn't a hard thing for me. After all it's something I'm used to doing.

Putting away my phone I concentrated on what I was currently in the midst of doing, yoga. With my eyes closed and headphones blaring with music I lost myself in the exercise until it was time for me to get my ass up.

Due to the fact that I've already saved that jerk's contact as "My Girl", he appeared on my WhatsApp. After a while I began seeing his whatsapp status updates which is a clear indication that he has saved my number. For a reason I know not of. Probably to block it before I disturb him on Whatsapp. 

He must think I was conning him deliberately. 

Pfft. 

My fingers were itching to press on his contact wanting to catch a glimpse of the reason behind my soiled mood yesterday but pride stopped me from it. I couldn't get myself to. That might make him assume I was stalking him which is something I'm definitely not doing! Not ever going to. So, I made a mental note in my head to delete his contact immediately after I'm done doing my 'chores'.

Skipping to my bedside drawer I pulled out my diary which was created yesterday all due to the fact that I got my best friend's number. All that excitement and energy for nothing. 

And now it's probably going to be used for something else entirely. 

My routine is whenever I exercise, a shower comes next then salad. To keep fit. Not like I'm skinny, hell no.

After doing all that I dressed myself in a loose chiffon top, dark mom jeans and flats before tying on a silk headtie.

My phone, earpiece, lipgloss and wallet got into my bag before I left the confines of my room to inform daddy that I was going out. He hates it when I leave the house without his permission even though he never shows it but according to him it's a reckless act so he always makes sure I have someone securing my moves. Being the daughter of a known man you never know who's after you.

"Daddy I'm going out." The words and my barging into his study were simultaneous. This place is like his haven when he's here. 

"Where to?"

"Uhh. To have some fun I guess, I'm bored and taking the keys to the chevrolet."

"Okay then drive safely."

"Always." With that I walked to the garage and into the Ash painted 2022 Chevrolet Cruze baby that I love riding.

I know almost everyone is curious as to who I am! Well here it is.

My name is Maryam Amirah Adamu Bawa, most people know me as Amirah Bawa, a lot of people don't even know my full name. Daddy is the governor of Bauchi state, Nigeria. His Excellency Alhaji Adamu Bawa, while Ummi, my mother Dr. Nafisah Hamza is the daughter of the renown Emir of Katagum, an emirate council in Bauchi, His Royal Highness Muhammad Hamza. I'm a graduate of Université Jean Monnet, which is situated at Saint Etienne, France where I studied Interior Design.

I am the first, last and only child of my parents. With so being said, I never lack for anything. I have everything I want which eventually made me become who I currently am, a spoilt brat. I never get scolded/shouted at or hit by anyone, that's the rule of the house. No one touches Daddy's girl Amirah. I was named after both my paternal (Maryam) and maternal (Amirah) grandmothers which led to more pampering from both sides. I'm a snob, yes I'm admitting to that fact. I make friends with only the elites and among them only those I deem worthy enough to be my friends.

I never go out without one of Daddy's security on my trail. It used to aggravate me but then I eventually got used to it. I had no other choice. Daddy said it was for my own safety.

Pitbull's Por Favor blared as I zoomed through the streets to my destination, to a friend of mine who recently got married's place.

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"Amiraah welcome welcome. You didn't tell me you were coming." Afrah greeted, enveloping me into a hug. She got married to a senator fit enough to be her father but who cares? Live rich, live big, live comfortable, live good. The list goes on and on.

She directed me to her room where we sat and gossiped. I met Afrah at a friend's wedding, we clicked immediately. She is the daughter of a former FCT Minister, a man from this very state.

We exchanged phones and scrolled through various apps before her loud gasp filled the room.

"I'm married but where did you get this hottie?" She asked, fanning herself with her hands.

"Which hottie. I don't know what you're talking about" I pushed my head to get a view of what she was on about.

The picture made my breath hitch for the slightest of moments. Where did I get this fine specimen? My eyes zoomed on the contact's name and "My Girl" was written there.

I'm dead.

Someone should shoot me, anyone. Daddy won't do anything about it.

"Why 'my girl' and not 'my man.'" She asked, smirking and wiggling her brows in mischief. 

"Afrah!" I exclaimed loudly."Oh Lord, you've killed me. Now he would think I was the one who did it. I'm so done with!"

"So who is he?" She wiggled her brows again. "If Salman dies I will jump on him with no second thoughts doubtlessly." By the way Salman is her husband.

"No way. This guy is one arrogant asshat. I doubt it's even his picture there. Besides he may possibly be a married man or something along the lines of that shit." I rolled my eyes, vexed.

"And? So what? Just because he's married. By Allah if I wasn't married I wouldn't have hesitated in making him mine." She clicked her tongue.

This is my wild girl friend. She is dressed in an outfit that's pretty much similar to mine. I glared at her and got up. 

I have nothing else to do here.

"Amirah don't leave now, wait let me get you something to eat." She offered and I declined, not politely. She's caused too much damage to be easily forgiven.

After leaving her house I began thinking of whether to tell that man that I wasn't the one who viewed his status or not.

But that would mean you initiating a conversation. The clever part of me pointed out.

Well that does it. I'm definitely not going to say anything about that.

One fact about me is that I love nature a lot. Stopping at various places to take pictures of natural beauty is my thing. And I never fail to post them on my social media.

About four hours later I was tossing and turning in bed. The image of that arrogant asshole clouding my senses. I never pine on something like this so I need answers on what the hell was happening to me. The first impression he gave me was that he is a narcissistic dimwit so why the hell is that picture trying to change how I view him as. His voice sounded like that of a 30-40 year old man. I'm not certain, but I'm not sure whether that's even him. 

I'm going nuts in the brain.

So does this means that Second Impression exists and matters? I hope it doesn't exist at all.

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