Chapter 1: .Chapter 1: The First Encounter

Mia adjusted the straps of her worn backpack as she stepped off the crowded bus in Lagos. The city smelled of exhaust fumes, grilled meat from roadside vendors, and a faint sweetness of tropical flowers. Every sound seemed louder here—the honking cars, the shouts of street hawkers, the laughter of children weaving through traffic. It was overwhelming, but Mia loved it. She had come here with one goal: to carve out a life for herself.

She pulled her scarf tighter around her shoulders and began weaving through the throngs of people. She had just started her part-time job at a small café near the university campus. The pay wasn’t much, but it was honest, and every naira counted toward her dream of finishing her degree without depending on anyone.

As she approached the café, she noticed a man sitting alone at an outdoor table, typing on a laptop with an intensity that made her curious. He was tall, with dark, neatly styled hair and sharp features. His clothes—expensive-looking and perfectly pressed—marked him as someone from a different world entirely. Yet there was something in his eyes that softened the edge of his wealth; curiosity, maybe, or loneliness.

Mia shook her head. Focus, Mia. You didn’t come here to daydream about strangers.

She pushed open the café door and was greeted by the warm smell of roasted coffee beans and the low hum of quiet conversation. Today’s rush was mild, and her manager waved her over. “Mia, you’re on table service,” he said. “Stick to the main area—don’t get lost in daydreams again, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Mia replied, smiling politely. She took her tray and walked toward the few occupied tables. That was when she noticed him again—the man outside. He looked up, and their eyes met for the briefest second. Mia felt a jolt in her chest, a strange mix of fear and recognition, as if they were characters in a story that had already begun.

She shook off the feeling and focused on her work, taking orders, delivering coffees, and trying to ignore the persistent curiosity that pulled her gaze toward the man outside. He hadn’t moved, just watching, or maybe waiting.

By mid-afternoon, the café was almost empty. Mia wiped down the last table and prepared to leave when she saw him approach the counter. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “Are you a student here?”

Mia blinked. “Yes,” she replied cautiously. “Why?”

He smiled slightly. “I’ve noticed you around a few times. You seem… different. Not just another student or part-time worker. There’s a spark—something honest in how you handle life.”

Mia wasn’t sure how to respond. Compliments from strangers weren’t something she was used to, especially not from someone who looked like he came from a world she couldn’t even imagine.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I guess I just try to make the best of things.”

He nodded, as if satisfied with her answer. “Well, keep it up. Lagos doesn’t see too many people like you.”

Mia felt heat rise to her cheeks. She had no idea why a stranger’s words could make her feel both seen and exposed at the same time.

Before she could say anything else, a group of customers entered, breaking the fragile connection. He smiled again, then turned and left the café without another word.

Mia leaned against the counter, heart still racing. There was something about him that lingered in her mind—an unspoken story, an invisible thread connecting their worlds. Who was he? And why did she feel as though she had just glimpsed the first page of a chapter that had yet to be written?

By the time Mia finished her shift, the sun was dipping behind the buildings, casting golden shadows across the streets. She stepped outside, scanning the crowd. The man was gone, vanished into the bustling Lagos chaos, leaving only a trace of curiosity and a faint ache in her chest.

As she walked home through the narrow streets, weaving past vendors packing up their wares, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this encounter was not random. Something had shifted, something beyond her understanding. Lagos felt bigger, louder, yet strangely intimate tonight.

When she finally reached her small apartment, she sank onto the worn couch, exhausted but restless. Her thoughts kept returning to him—the stranger who had seen her in a way no one else had. Why do I feel like this is just the beginning?

She didn’t notice the faint shadow across the street, watching her from a distance, until she turned toward her window. And by the time she blinked, it was gone.