Chapitre 43: Meeting 1

The next day, Ebilade leaned back into the couch in his current apartment, headphones snugly covering his ears as he queued up one of his favorite Davido tracks. The opening beat hit, and he immediately started bobbing his head, his fingers tapping lightly on the controller as the song's rhythm synced with his focus in Call of Duty. The faint lyrics of "If I tell you say I love you, my money, my body, na your own, oh baby..." flowed into his ears, and he started mouthing the words, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Yo, Ebilade, cover me—got enemies on the left!" a teammate's voice crackled through the headset, pulling him into the game.

Ebilade's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening with concentration. "I got you, bro, don't worry," he muttered, his tone calm yet determined. The Davido song hummed in the background, and without missing a beat, Ebilade jumped back into the chorus, singing along with a laugh, "'Cause my money, my body, na your own…"