#3 Demaq Against The World
3: Riot
Make sure you’re caught up on previous chapters.
1: Café Atlanta
2: Dot Creative Agency
3: Riot
“Well, at least we know you can talk your way into something,” Demaq’s mother Beletu said over the phone when Demaq told her about her job interview. Demaq bit her lip to keep herself from saying something nasty back. Subtlety has never known weyzero Beletu. She often mistook honesty for an attempt to ruin one’s will to live. She and Ananya got along really well.
“Say hi to dad for me. I will come around soon,” Demaq said.
“Mulé, your daughter got a job,” Beletu yelled to her husband on the other side of the phone. “She convinced them, believe it or not–” and she was gone.
“Another?” Ezra asked, reading Demaq’s face.
“Another,” She confirmed.
Ezra poured her a glassful of the brownish green concoction he’d put together to celebrate. She could taste subtle hints of boxed orange juice and cheap gin in the mixture but she knew better than to ask Ezra what exactly he’d put in the drink. She was better off not knowing. The tangy flavour danced on her tongue and warmth trickled to the tips of fingers. For Demaq, that was good enough.
Riot was the only accessible place in the city with real green grass. It had a view from the lawn where people could take a table or lie on the grass to watch the sunset. And on the sides of the property that wasn’t trying to be a green oasis in the middle of the bustling metropolis, it was a correct realisation of its name: a riot.
The property, a four-story villa with a yard that went all around the compound, included a sports bar, a gallery, an Italian restaurant and a studio lounge. But it also harboured rooms and little crevices that manifested into exactly what they were needed for. Misfits and oddities from bank managers to failing poets from every corner of the city often found their way to Riot.
Ezra and Demaq sipped on their drinks on the lawn, listening to the West African playlist tinkling from the speakers under the buzzing conversations. Ezra had managed to hog cushions for them earlier so they didn’t have to sit on the wet grass.
“By the way,” he said, placing a cigarette on the corner of his lips and striking a match. “Did it help?”
“Did what help?”
“The oil,” Ezra tilted his cigarette hand obviously.
“What oil?”
“This morning – I gave you my coffee?” he raised his eyebrow excitedly. “You didn’t know?”
Demaq’s eyes blew up as she realized what Ezra was saying. “It was barely noon!”
“You couldn’t taste it?”
“That’s why I said all that stuff at the interview,” she groaned.
“I guess it did help then,” Ezra grinned to himself and clinked his glass to hers. Demaq hoped Alula couldn’t tell.
“Y’all worry too much,” Ezra blew cigarette smoke away from Demaq and stared off into the horizon. The sun was setting behind a block of buildings in the distance. “Let’s see how Ani did.”
Ananya was sweaty, his messenger bag slightly skewed as he took long strides towards them. He scooched next to Demaq on her cushion with his legs splayed out, took her glass and downed the contents.
“You really should stop taking drinks from my hand,” Demaq said.
“How was your day?” Ezra asked Ananya in a childish sing-song.
“I asked for her number and she gave it to me,” Ananya said in one breath.
Demaq and Ezra exchanged looks. “Who gave you her number?” Demaq asked even though she already knew the answer.
“Merry,” Ananya breathed. He fell backwards onto the grass, flinched at the deweyness and then covered his face. “Why the hell did I do that?”
“Did it feel good?” Ezra asked smugly, again in sing-song.
“Oh shut up,” Ananya said from behind his hands. “It didn’t stop there,” he continued. “I asked her to come to Jazz Night tonight.”
“You asked her out?” Demaq couldn’t help the excitement and utter surprise at Ananya doing the bravest thing he could possibly do.
“You are quick to act against a problem, I’ll give you that,” Ezra said. “But mom doesn’t expect you to get married tomorrow. You need to take it easy.”
“He’s gotta start somewhere.”
“Asking for her number was good. He took it too far with Jazz Night,” Ezra hissed.
“She didn’t say yes,” Anaya said in a small voice. He removed his hands from his face and sat up on his elbows. “I walked up to her to say hi. She was with Rebka, that girl who used to work at our office? They’re friends I think. I walked up to say hi to them and instantly, the second she sees me, Merry pats her pockets and says, ‘Egziabher Yistilign’ EGZIABHER YISTILIGN?!”
Ezra spat his sip all over Demaq’s hands but she sucked in her lips, trying to keep it together for Ananya’s sake. She wiped her hands on Ezra’s jacket as Ananya groaned, “It gets worse.” He looked like he wanted to throw up. “I think I startled her. When Rebka explained that I was a friend– bless her she didn’t laugh– I broke out speaking in English and only English. I looked like one of those jackasses from Café Atlanta. I don’t know what came over me. I asked if she wanted to get some coffee and she kept saying she was in a hurry. Rebka just stood there waiting for me to finish. I didn’t even ask Rebka for coffee. I just kept insisting Merry looked tired and needed a cup of coffee. Then Rebka said maybe Merry and I could do that later. So Meron Alemayehu took my phone and saved her number into it!”
Demaq and Ezra were now watching Ananya with arms intertwined, grinning from ear to ear.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” said Ezra.
“When I asked her if she wanted to check out Jazz Night tonight, mind you I am still speaking in English, she called me ‘strange’ and left with Rebka.” Ananya fell backwards once again. “Then I spent the rest of the day eating Sun Chips and nodding off at my computer.” He pinched his eyes hard. “Did I get a brain injury this morning?”
“No, you drank herb enhanced coffee.”
Ananya stared at Demaq,“WHAT?”
Demaq shrugged.
“You drugged me?” Ananya sat up furiously.
“You took my coffee,” Demaq protested.
“Actually it was my coffee,” Ezra interjected.
Ananya blinked, realizing. “You are never going to amount to anything, brother dear. You can not be this stupid forever. We met up at eight in the morning!”
“You took my coffee. I didn’t give it to you. It wasn’t intended for you. But maybe you should thank me. You’ve been salivating over Merry since Hamle. Get your shit together and ask her out. It’s not my fault you’re such a dork. At least now she knows your face.”
Ananya closed his eyes and inhaled in fury.
Demaq looked from one brother to the other. She’d seen them fight before. To Ananya’s clean-cut, tall and willowy, Ezra was rougher, shorter and beefier. Ananya stood no chance in a physical fight against Ezra so his punches were often more psychological.
“You’re a stain on society,” he said to Ezra then narrowed his eyes at Demaq. “Wait, I took the coffee from you.”
“And I had a great day. I got the job,” she said, then corrected, “Well, I got a job. I’m going to be a marketing associate.”
“You’re a secretary,” Ananya said flatly.
“No, a marketing associate,” She insisted.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a secretary,” Ananya shrugged. “But an associate is not a real position. You’re kind of like an intern. You don’t really get to make any decisions. I bet they’re not even paying you the full amount. ”
Demaq considered what he was saying.
“But since you don’t have any real work experience, they did you a solid.”
“They called me to interview for creative director and I agreed to something else. Did I mess up?”
“No, keep the job. You need it,” Ananya said. “But you need to get used to a lot of conflict. You’re a front liner against clients now.”
By the time Ezra’s concoction had been diminished, the sunset glow around the lawn had been replaced by street lights and LEDs.
“I could get married,” Ananya droned dreamily, staring into the distance. “Right? People do it all the time. We could be married people. It’s the one thing left in mom’s to-do list of turning me into a man before she decides she’s ready to–”
Ananya stopped himself as he and Ezra exchanged a split second of involuntary looks. Their eyes found each other automatically at the indirect yet unmissable mention of their father’s absence from their lives. The subject of thief father often came up in the subtlest manner on nights like these. Ezra didn’t hold Ananya’s gaze for more than a split second. He lit another cigarette and leaned back on his elbows.
A blue vitz skidded into the temporary parking at the entrance to Riot. The driver and the passenger were loud, angry silhouettes.
“Mom is probably just worried,” Ananya continued in a dazed voice. “But I didn’t think I would be single at 25,”
“I did,” Ezra said glumly. “I thought you’d be single at 25.”
Ananya ignored him. “I thought I’d at least be with some pretty girl who likes to read books and listens to Maroon 5.”
A car door slammed outside, attracting everyone’s attention and the Blue Vitz sped off. Misiker’s hair flew behind her as she stomped into Riot, searching with her eyes. A couple of sympathetic hands reached towards her from the crowd, but she slapped them away and found Ezra’s raised one instead.
“What happened?” Demaq asked as Misiker huffed down on the grass. Her face twisted when she realized it was wet. She then resigned to her luck as she snatched a napkin from her purse and dabbed carefully at her eyes. “I asked Bereket why we’re holding off on the wedding and we got into a fight.”
Demaq, Ananya and Ezra exchanged nervous looks. “I would think we might be calling off the engagement, but nothing was happening anyways so there’s really nothing to call off,” Misiker sniffed. “I don’t understand why things aren’t working out. Wasn’t at least some of this supposed to be easy?” She threw her hands up and down in frustration.
Demaq pulled her into a side hug. Her eyes fell on the small, fake diamond ring on Misiker’s finger. Bereket had given it to her– to be exchanged for a real one when he made his big bucks as a software entrepreneur. It had been just over three years since Demaq had helped him orchestrate a surprise proposal under the stars. Misiker knew all about it, ofcourse. She had secretly helped Demaq pick out the rooftop venue and the decor. Demaq, Ezra and Ananya had been excited for Misiker to be the first one of them to become a practical adult. But as time went on, and the world came out of the immediate existential fear following the coronavirus and the war, Demaq wondered if perhaps Bereket should have waited.
They drank a few more rounds, letting Misiker cry in short, quiet bursts. When they couldn’t find any words of comfort, they attempted to make her laugh by recounting Ananya’s misfortune with his crush. They seemed to succeed at first but the more they drank, the more miserable both Misiker and Ananya became. Ananya kept looking at the entrance, expecting Merry to walk in any minute. But like Demaq expected, the girl never showed up.
Eventually, they decided to head home before the roads emptied out.
They split into pairs as they walked the long stretch of sideroad leading from the cul-de-sac where Riot was located to the main road. Ezra walked with Demaq while Ananya and Misiker followed a few steps behind them. They were all buzzed, cold and gripped with a quiet sense of gloom. Demaq didn’t even get to bask in her new found employment before they were moving through a wave of emotions both bigger and more demanding than her little victory. She and Ezra played with the vapour coming out of their mouths for a few minutes, giggling and trying to make smoke rings, but the warmth disappeared in the air as soon as it left their bodies.
“You know how they say most of us will never have a big enough income to live the life our parents lived?” Ezra said. Demaq intertwined her arm through his, and snuggled against him as they walked. “We’ll likely never own a home, or work a satisfying career. What if some of us were never meant to find love or get married either?”
“What on Earth do you mean?”
“Ani and Misiker are so obsessed with checking their boxes. Get educated, find the perfect job, get married. They’re probably back there telling each other what a great person the other is and congratulating themselves on how well they are doing. We’ve come a long way,” he mimicked Ananya’s indignant tone.
An involuntary snort escaped Demaq. She loved her best friends in different and specific ways but Ezra was probably the one she loved the most not for any other reason than the fact that she had more in common with him. They were the two youngest, and they were both drop-outs–although Ezra had decided he wouldn’t even attempt university. He’d come back from his 12th grade nationals to tell his mother he was done with formal education. It had nearly given her a heart attack but eventually, she had to succumb. There was only so much she could force the young man to do.
Checking boxes was the thing the other two had in common, something Demaq and Ezra have always had a challenge doing. Although it might take time, via one strategy or another, Ananya and Misiker had a way of eventually checking their boxes. So Ezra and Demaq worried about each other more than they worried about the other two.
“What if some of us weren’t made to check boxes,” Ezra continued, “What if instead we were supposed to just live and understand life so we can show humanity how to survive feelings? What if we were meant to show that you don’t need a degree to be considered a good person? What if we were just meant to survive feelings and that is our evolutionary purpose?”
“Analysts and dentists have feelings too, Ezraye,” Demaq said.
“Yeah but imagine thinking you’ve failed at life because you didn’t get a job,” Ezra said. “Ani thinks I’m failing at life. He doesn’t think I’m a serious person. I think he’s failing at life. He’s never done anything interesting in his life until he bombed at asking Merry out today.”
Demaq and Ezra snickered quietly.
“I don’t think my brother can think of asking a girl out differently from drafting a business plan.”
They reached the main road where Misiker would catch a taxi to Mexico. Misiker and Ananya walked up behind them. “Bereket is an upstanding guy,” Ananya was saying to Misiker. “Maybe the reason he doesn’t want to get married is because deep down he’s just not ready to be monogamous. He’s gotta get there on his own time.” Misiker’s troubled frown made it evident that Ananya was not helping at all. “Why would I date someone who doesn’t want to be monogamous. It’s been three years!”
When she hugged Demaq goodbye, Misiker held on long enough for Demaq to ask slowly in her ear, “Are we gonna talk about it?”
“Not today,” Misiker whispered. She would need a day or two to process the fight before she and Demaq can start jumping to conclusions over wine and John Tucker Must Die.
Misiker jumped into a slightly tilted minivan and the rest watched it creak and wobble down the street.
After seeing Misiker off, the brothers started walking Demaq to her apartment across the roundabout. From there, they would walk a couple more blocks through a cobblestone street and into a gated suburban villa where they lived with their mother.
The trio crossed the roundabout with Ananya scolding Ezra about his morning coffee when suddenly, Ezra stopped walking in the middle of the street. Cars swerved and honked manically. Startled and terrified, Demaq and Ananya reached back to catch Ezra, Ananya escaping a speeding tinted pickup by a breath. The pickup splashed all three of them with asphalt puddles and continued on without slowing down. But Ananya had managed to pull Ezra to the safety of the bike lane. They quickly scurried over to the sidewalk before turning on Ezra for an explanation. “What the fuck are you doing?” Ananya yelled furiously.
“I saw him– one of them,” Ezra said in a voice that reached softly far across the roundabout. His eyes laser focused across the street like he was trying to spot something in the distance. “Who?” Demaq asked. She tried to follow his gaze, searching for what he was looking at. She thought she noticed shadowy figures curiously looking backwards at them from across the roundabout but with cars zooming past and pedestrians rushing by, she couldn't be sure what Ezra meant.
“They’re back,” he said, staring at his brother. “It’s them,”
Demaq felt Ananya tense as he somehow understood what Ezra was talking about. A quiet conversation seemed to take place between the two boys.
“Is anyone gonna clue me in on what’s happening? We almost died,” Demaq said.
Ananya’s response was robotic. “Let’s get you home.”
“What the heck happened?” She turned to Ezra. His jaws tightened and even in the streetlights, the veins popping in his forehead were hard to miss.
“The brothers,” Ezra said with difficulty. “From when we were young? They’d moved from the neighbourhood. Now they’re back.”
It took a minute for Demaq to recall all the important things she knew about Ananya and Ezra’s childhood to connect the dots. And when she did understand, her heart raced with a new kind of worry for her friends.
Demaq Against the World: Book 1 will continue in the next chapter.
Thank you for reading! You can support this writer by becoming a paying subscriber.