REBEL GRAINED

IT AIN'T ME

"Hey, dude, where were you?" Steven asked when Lars entered their room.

Though he had the financial means, Lars didn't waste it on things such as luxury hotels. At least not anymore. He spent his first months abroad living as though he were a multimillionaire's son; five-star hotels, Michelin Guide starred restaurants, first-class flights, luxury sportscar rentals. He even went as far as Sugar daddy-ing with pretty woman-level shopping sprees for his panty conquest chessboard.

What was he thinking?

Nothing much; he just wished to erase the ordeals he went through. Now his mind began to function again; he tried to reduce the spending.

His family gave him the interest on his shares, and Lars needed all of it to invest. He was proud to seal his first deal on a South African start-up.

The man traveled light and opted for stays in backpacker hostels or Airbnb in the cheapest rooms.

It had been a month since the last time he slept in a bed that fit his standards. His brother's company products were definitely the best around. Lars saw defaults in every piece of furniture he tested. Even the Four Seasons bed was far behind Jonas's Moder York product.

Why did he think of Jonas?

His older brother featured in his mind daily for a reason Lars still didn't wish to admit.

"I had a rough night."

Steven pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, "Yeah, I can see that you look like rusty tofu. What happened?"

"I should have left with you guys. I met this girl at the club after you guys signed out on me. To make a long story short, she stole my passport, wallet, and phone."

"Shit. I told you to watch out with those South African babes."

"She wasn't black."

Steven cocked a brow at the comment. His friend, freshly debarked from Europe, still had trouble assimilating the country's multicultural facette, "she could be an Afrikaner, and I bet you trusted her because she was white."

Never had Lars been in a country with so many fluctuations when it came to race. The man was lost amidst the different dialects but also this invisible line placing everyone in their community square.

"Perhaps, anyway, I've got to hold five days to hold without my passport and with only a thousand ZAR."

"I can lend you some. You can pay me back when everything is back in order."

Joshua wired Lars money, but he needed his passport to access the Western Union. Again Lars mentally chuckled and clapped his palm down on the other the way he saw people do at the predicament. He was an alien in Johannesburg instead of New York like Sting.

Lars had no choice but to accept his friend's helping hand, "that would be cool. You're a lifesaver, Steven. I'll pay you back."

"Did you go to the police?"

"I wanted to shower first."

"Yeah, you should go. These women are like an organized crime system; they drug up men or women, abuse them and steal their money."

"I wasn't drugged up."

"Are you sure? What do you remember?" Steven asked while leaning back on his desk chair.

Lars tried to recall the events. All was a blur and fragmented. The only thing he saw without fuzz was the hooded stare of the dancer.

"Lars?"