The music pulsed low in the background, heavy bass reverberating through the dimly lit VIP section where TK sat with his closest crew—Jabu, Leo, Kudzi, and Simba. They were nestled in the corner booth of Pulse Lounge, the sleek, modern nightclub TK owned, glowing in soft neon and cigar smoke. The private section was sealed off by frosted glass panels and guarded by a sharp-eyed bouncer dressed like he'd walked straight out of a tactical gear ad.
Inside, the guys lounged like royalty on plush leather couches, tumblers of whiskey glinting gold under the moody lights. The air smelled of cologne, cigar smoke, and expensive mistakes. Simba nursed a thick shisha pipe like it was a newborn, blowing perfect rings with more concentration than he ever showed in school.
"I swear," Leo said, leaning back with a laugh, "if Pulse gets any fancier, you'll have to start charging just to breathe in here."
TK smirked, swirling his drink. "Bro, it's about creating an experience. You think rich uncles want to party next to broke students in torn Air Force Ones?"
Simba snorted. "Speak for yourself, I was that student last year."
"Exactly," Leo chimed in. "Now look at us—grown men with tabs bigger than our rent."
"Speak for yourself," Kudzi said. "I still pay rent late."
Laughter exploded around the table. A waitress glided by and TK gave a nod. She disappeared and reappeared seconds later with a fresh round of whiskey and a small plate of chicken wings no one asked for but everyone would eat.
The bond between Takudzwa and his boys—Jabu, Kudzi, Simba, and Leo—ran deep, forged in the fires of childhood mischief, teenage hustle, and dreams bigger than their streets.
Even after TK left for the U.S., the connection didn't fade. It matured. Long-distance calls and surprise money transfers kept the flame alive.
As he got wealthier and sharper, he didn't forget the ones who stood by him when he had nothing.
Instead of surrounding himself with strangers, Takudzwa brought his day-ones into his Zimbabwe business empire—each one earning a title that matched his strength.
Jabu, the most meticulous and trustworthy of the crew, became Chief Financial Officer. He handled books, transactions, audits—no coin moved without his say-so.
Kudzi, always the smooth talker, became Head of Public Relations & Brand Strategy. He crafted the image, protected Takudzwa's name, and closed deals with charm.
Simba, disciplined and cool-headed, was made Director of Operations. From clubs to logistics to security, he made sure things ran tight and smooth.
Leo, the tech guy who taught himself coding in high school, was put in charge of Digital Systems & Innovation. He built their payment systems, handled surveillance, and ran their IT backbone
"So what's the deal now, TK?"Simba asked. "You got the club, the cars, the quiet smile of a man who doesn't reply to messages. Is this what peace looks like?"
"Peace?" Leo raised a brow. "Don't let this guy fool you. Last week I saw him parked outside Nandos in a Range Rover, looking like he was about to buy the whole building."
"I was waiting for my order," TK replied calmly.
"Exactly," Leo said. "A whole order of what? Ownership?"
They all laughed again, a soft ease settling between them. The kind of camaraderie born from years of shared jokes, old heartbreaks, and unspoken support.
"Anyway," Simba said, tapping ash into the tray. "You still playing FIFA or you retired with your dignity?"
TK chuckled. "Still undefeated. Ask Leo."
Leo raised his hand like he was surrendering. "I lost one match! You played me with Man City, I had Crystal Palace. That was spiritual warfare, not gaming."
Kudzi leaned forward. "Still better than betting. Remember your Manchester United bet last week? Man got humbled live on camera."
"Bro!" Leo clutched his chest. "That match finished my soul."
Simba leaned over to Jabu. "This is why I don't trust anything that needs hope and Manchester United in the same sentence."
More laughter.
Then Leo leaned forward again, tone lowering, mischief dancing in his eyes. "But for real, TK— Bro, it's been, what… almost four months now?"
TK raised an eyebrow mid-sip. "Four months since what?"
Leo smirked and looked around the circle for backup. "Since you started seeing that pharmacy girl. What's her name again? Nyasha?"
"So, what?"
"What's your plan with her," Leo said. "You still haven't kissed."
Kudzi nearly choked on his drink. "Wait—four months and not even a kiss? You must be kidding me."
"That's true," Leo said.
"That's not the Mukwa we know," Kudzi said. "What happened to you man?"
Simba let out a deep laugh, setting down the shisha pipe. "The man used to have women falling like ZESA in rainy season. Now he's out here doing no-touch romance like it's high school again?"
TK chuckled, unbothered. "Maybe I'm evolving."
"Evolving into what?" Simba asked. "A monk?"
Leo leaned back dramatically. "Guys, the TK I know once had two girls fighting in the parking lot over who sat in the front seat."
"That was a misunderstanding," TK muttered.
"It was a UFC pre-match," Simba corrected. "All that over a guy who now won't even hold hands. Bro, are you fasting?"
TK laughed. "It's not like that. She's different."
"Of course she is," Jabu said. "They're all 'different' until they block you for forgetting their birthday."
"I'm serious," TK said, now looking thoughtful. "She doesn't care about the money or the cars. She asks about my day. She listens."
"Oh, trust me, brother," Kudzi said. "They always care about the money and the cars."
"This one is different."
"Is she not Zimbabwean?" Leo asked.
"She is, so what?"
"Does she have bills to pay? Rent?"
"She does."
"Then she cares about the money, bruh," Leo said.
"Yah," Kudzi supported. "This is Zimbabwe, bro, not the States. Here the women preach about being independent yet in reality they depend on the dudes for money. So, yes, she cares about your money but she's manipulating you into thinking that she's different when in actual fact she is not."
"You're jealous, that's all."
"Oh," Kudzi said. "Dude's so in love his perception has been clouded with shadows and mist, and smoke. Mmmmm. The mighty has fallen."
Simba raised his glass. "To character development. Our boy's caught feelings."
"Caught? Bro, he's been tackled, red carded and benched," Leo said, and they all howled.
But beneath the teasing, they all noticed the way TK's smile lingered, softer than usual. He didn't argue much. He just swirled his whiskey slowly, looking into the glass like it held memories.
That was enough to make the boys fall quiet for a moment, the banter hanging in the air like cigar smoke.
"Okay okay," Jabu broke the silence. "Is she the same girl you almost killed in the accident and made me find information about her?"
TK nodded. "Yah, that one."
"Okay?" Jabu said thoughtfully as if he had more to say but decided against it. He continued: "But real question—has she seen the garage?"
TK rolled his eyes. "I told you, she's not that kind of girl."
Simba whistled. "If I had a girl who didn't lose her mind at the sight of a V8, I'd marry her immediately. Or at least take her to Dino's."
"Dino's is sacred," Leo said. "That's the real love test."
And with that, the laughter resumed, louder than before, echoing off the tinted windows of the VIP room while the rest of Pulse Lounge danced to a beat the crew had long outgrown.
Kudzi raised his eyebrows. "But let's be real. TK really amused me. Four months?"
"I thought this case was closed," TK complained.
Simba chuckled. "I know right. The man used to have a rotation. Monday to Friday, with double bookings in between."
Takudzwa rolled his eyes, lifting his drink to his lips. "I'm still active."
"Twice a week isn't active, my guy," Leo clapped him on the shoulder. "It's a drought."
"A disciplined man," Takudzwa corrected, smirking.
"Oh please," Kudzi said. "This isn't discipline. It's romance."
Simba leaned in dramatically. "Is it true you haven't even smashed this girl?"
Takudzwa didn't respond right away. His gaze flicked toward the dance floor. "She's not like that."
Leo whistled. "Damn. He's fallen."
"I haven't fallen," Takudzwa snapped, but it lacked heat.
Simba grinned. "This is new territory. You like her?"
Takudzwa gave a small, annoyed exhale. "Yeah. So?"
The boys all looked at each other before bursting into collective "Eyyooo!"
"She's cast a spell on you, my G," Leo laughed. "No girls at the house. No drunken calls. You're even sleeping at normal hours. The Takudzwa we knew would be throwing boat parties at this time of year."
Kudzi added, "And the guy actually picks up books now. You've changed."
"Who told you that?" TK asked with raised eyebrows.
"I know things," Kudzi said.
"I don't know what you are talking about," TK said. He gave a half-smile, more to himself. "But even if it was true, she's worth it."
Just then, his phone lit up. The name on screen made them all lean in.
"Nyasha," Simba read aloud with amusement. "Speak of the queen."
Takudzwa stood quickly, stepping away from the group. "Don't make noise."
They all laughed behind him as he answered, trying to keep his tone casual.
"Hey," he said into the phone, walking toward a quieter hallway near the balcony.
"Hi," Nyasha's voice was soft but tired. "Did I call at a bad time?"
"No, no. Just… with friends. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just wanted to hear your voice before I sleep. Long day."
He softened instantly. "I'm glad you called."
"Don't get cheesy, Mukwa."
He chuckled. "Never."
Behind him, he could still hear the guys teasing.
"Tell her we said hi!"
"Ask her what love potion she used!"
He sighed. "Ignore the clowns. They're just jealous."
She laughed faintly. "Let them talk. I'm not worried."
"You shouldn't be," he said. "Call me anytime, even if it's just to hear my voice."
There was a pause. Then she whispered, "Goodnight, Takue."
"Goodnight, Nyasha."
As the call ended, he stood there a few moments after the call ended, smile still lingering on his lips—completely oblivious to the noise behind him.
Takudzwa stared at his phone for a second longer than necessary. Her voice had a strange effect on him—calming yet disarming. But he quickly slid the phone into his pocket and went back to the guys. He sat down and leaned back on the leather couch, clearing his throat.
"Man's still got it," he said with mock bravado, trying to shake off the warmth lingering in his chest.
The guys looked at him, amused.
"To prove it," he added, standing up and scanning the crowd below, "I'm about to remind y'all who owns this club—and the game."
His eyes caught movement—a girl in a red mini dress, dancing effortlessly near the center of the floor. Her hips rolled to the rhythm, braids swaying, smile bright and carefree. She had that untouchable vibe, the kind of energy that made the room bend slightly in her direction.
Leo nudged Kudzi. "Game on."
TK adjusted his watch, smoothed his shirt, and made his way down the stairs, weaving through the crowd. The bass pulsed harder now, like it knew what was coming. He moved with casual confidence, his presence turning heads, but his focus locked on the girl.
As he approached, she caught his eye—just briefly—but enough to spark something. TK flashed a grin, half-charm, half-dare. She didn't stop dancing, just raised an eyebrow, challenging.
The boys watched from above, leaning over the railing.
Simba chuckled. "Let's see if Mukwa still knows how to hunt."
TK stopped a few feet from her, swaying slightly to the beat, waiting for the right moment to engage. He wasn't nervous—no, not TK—but even he felt a flicker of something… unfamiliar. Like maybe his heart wasn't in this the way it used to be.
Still, the night was young, and he wasn't about to lose face.
TK stepped closer, the lights flickering across his face as the bass dropped low. The girl turned slightly, her movements unbothered, but her eyes met his with subtle curiosity. Confident but not cocky, TK leaned in just enough to be heard over the music.
"You dance like you're not even trying," he said, his voice smooth. "Dangerous combination."
She smirked, not missing a beat in her rhythm. "And you walk like you own the place."
"That's 'cause I do," he grinned. "Pulse Lounge. Takudzwa Mukwa. At your service."
"I know," she said. She laughed lightly. "So the owner leaves his VIP couch just to flirt?"
"Nah, not just to flirt," he said, circling her slightly like it was part of the dance. "To be reminded what real energy feels like. What's your name?"
"Rudo," she replied, raising a brow. "And you use that line on all the girls, TK of Pulse Lounge?"
"Only the ones who look like they've already heard better," he said with a wink.
She chuckled, tilting her head. "Okay, not bad."
He offered his hand, palm up. "Then dance with me. Just one song."
She hesitated, giving him a look like she was weighing her options. But her fingers slipped into his anyway, warm and confident. TK pulled her gently into the rhythm, matching her sway, the air between them charged now—playful, electric, but somewhere underneath, distracted.
Back at the balcony, Leo sipped his drink. "Okay, he's still got it."
Simba nodded, though he noticed something in TK's smile—it didn't quite reach his eyes.
***
The morning was still, the pale gold light creeping through the tall glass windows of Takudzwa's sleek Southdowns mansion. He stood in his kitchen shirtless, sipping black coffee, the events of the previous night dull in his mind.
The girl he had brought home — Rufaro, or was it Rudo? — was still asleep upstairs. Her presence already felt like a mistake. She had laughed too loudly, clung to him too tightly, and worst of all, hadn't left a trace of challenge or substance.
Takudzwa rubbed his temple. It had been a moment of pride, proving to his boys that he still "had it." But now, all he had was a heavy gut and a headache.
Then came a knock at the door.
It was soft, polite… yet carried a weight.
Frowning, he walked over and opened it wondering who would visit him at that time. Takudzwa froze.
Nyasha stood there.
Her face was gentle, expectant, maybe even a little shy — until her eyes scanned his bare chest, then darted past him. Her smile froze as her eyes fixed on something behind him.
He turned, and at that exact moment, the girl from the night before, wrapped in his robe, descended the stairs with an easy stretch and yawn, completely unaware of the emotional bombshell she was walking into.
"TK," the girl purred, then stopped dead in her tracks, noticing Nyasha.
Nyasha said nothing. Her jaw tightened, but her eyes said it all.
Takudzwa turned back to her, panic suddenly choking his throat.
"Nyasha—"
But she was already stepping back.
"No need to explain," she said quietly, her voice calm but cold. "I shouldn't have come."
"Wait—please, let me—"
She shook her head, forcing a smile. "You didn't owe me anything anyway, right?"
Then she turned and walked away.
Takudzwa didn't even hear the front gate close.
He just stood there — barefoot, shirtless, gut-sick with regret — while the girl behind him asked, "Who was that?"
He didn't answer. Because he already knew: That was the only woman who had ever made him feel like just being enough was everything. And now… he might've just lost her.