REBEL GRAINED

SEX TALK

Lars started the car, threw a glance in the rearview mirror, and remembered the shabby aspect of his attire.

Not only did the man regret not taking a shower, but he wondered why he picked a sweater that held a slight humidity smell of badly dried clothes.

Unlike his brother, Jonas, Lars didn't have the cleaner's touch regarding his laundry and other chores. The youngest of the Pottsmann siblings lived with his parents the longest. Even when he had his place, it wasn't rare to find him squatting his parent's couch.

No, Lars wasn't the perfect independent man and protective umbrella women sought. Thus despite his looks and apparent wealth, he remained what many women considered a loser who didn't even know how to assume himself. One would not place him with the high-value elite or on the same pedestal as his brothers.

He turned on the air-con, hoping it would ventilate the smell.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Lars thought of what conversation he could spark. Thulile didn't seem like the talkative type.

"You can put on the radio. I don't know the station's here."

Thulile knew where to press; Elije had a similar car. To Lars' surprise, Thulile didn't stop on a station radio playing Amapiano.

The music filled the silence while Lars thought of things to say.

"How long have you been making coffee?"

"Since I was a child," Thulile answered without looking at him.

"And how far back was that?"

The woman glared in a glance; this time, he caught her attention, "it was long enough ago."

Lars nodded and tried another method, "wow, I couldn't do anything as a kid. My brothers all have some talent. They're either natural-born leaders or creatives, I mean, my brother Joㅡ."

The man stopped as he realized how much he admired his siblings. The feeling stirred self-pity but also resilience.

Anger made him say a bunch of things he didn't mean, at least not the way he expressed it in Moder Yord's meeting room. The only true thing was his wish to prove he had a talent and could make it independently.

Lars promised himself next time he met a family member; he would hold money produced by his efforts with no piggyback from anyone.

"You were saying."

"Never mind."

"In two meters, turn left."

Thulile didn't push the conversation further. She didn't care much about interacting with him.

They had nothing to discuss.

The woman didn't think Lars was serious when he said he wished to start a business. It was probably his pick-up line.

Many girls fell into the trap of guys who told them they looked like models and would find them an agent. Man, who said they could make them an actress or any other glamourous being.

The fatality was sex, nothing more, nothing less.

Thulile wondered where and when Lars would drop such a condition.

Unlike Palesa, she didn't believe he could offer her a remedy to her troubles.

"You know I'm so excited about this idea. I've worked on projects like this before; I mean a start-up. The hardest part will probably be creating the blends. The rest will be a piece of cake; the sooner we get started, the better."