"Oh my God. Did you girls see that handsome guy on the first floor?"
Eric's eyes glided to the same group of girls from before. They were coming from the entrance of the eighth floor, their South Sudanese accents as strong as any native's.
"Yes, girl! Did you see his eyes? He must be a foreigner. Why didn't you get him? Go and look for him before he leaves," her friend said, her voice perfect for public speaking.
The entire floor of families and friends turned to look at the group of girls, laughing. Eric's father also heard their loud plotting and began to chuckle. The girls walked to their table in embarrassment, each one glaring at her friends and kissing her teeth in anger. It just so happened that their table, table 9, was right next to Eric and his father's. As the girls came closer, the girl who had told her friends of her attraction to Eric's father made eye contact with Eric. She quickly averted her eyes. The atmosphere of the entire floor was engulfed in silent chuckles, ringing almost like a bell. He turned to his father, only to find a wide grin stretched across his face. As if the timing couldn't have been any better, the very last ember of the sunset shone on his face. Eric's father's face was glowing. His black curly hair sat on top of his head like a crown, and his green eyes, like gems, combined with the last remaining sunlight, gave the illusion that they were glowing. His lips were thin, painted pink just like his mother's. He had an athletic, slim body like a sprinter's, with muscles to enhance his appearance.
His father's physique was the complete opposite of Eric's. Eric may have had his father's and mother's features, but not their charm over other people. Every morning when he woke up to go to school, he stared at himself in the mirror and couldn't help thinking that his body was no different from a hippo's. He remembered going to the doctor for a physical and finding out he weighed 124 pounds. That was the day Eric got hit with the harsh reality that he was fat. All of a sudden, Eric's world began to shatter. He was no longer fast enough for football, and his stamina would deplete rapidly. He began to be neglected by his peers and no longer seemed relevant to the football team. Eventually he quit the team, but deep down he wanted someone to come up to him, to encourage him not to quit, not to give up, to keep pushing. But no one came to him. No one did, not his coach, not his teammates, and not his friends, who were all on the soccer team, by the way. No one had faith in him anymore. They gave up on him without even trying. That was when he realized he was easily replaceable. He accepted the fact that maybe he wasn't as good as he had thought, and that he was just a nobody, an average midfielder who was easily replaceable. In South Sudan, soccer is easily the most dominant sport in the country, which meant that every single boy in his school wanted to join the soccer team, so of course he was replaceable. Realizing this back then, he had no idea how he had even made the team.
As he finally accepted his harsh reality, he began seeing his father in a different way. Recently, he would often stare at his father's body, admiring his physical traits: his broad shoulders, his bulky biceps, his veiny forearms, his spotless skin, and his towering height. Eric would stand for hours naked, staring at himself in the mirror, thinking: Why can't I be like him? Why can't people everywhere I go stare at me too? Why is it always him and not me? What's the difference between me and him? Am I not his son? In frustration he would pull his belly rolls violently, until he just stopped and continued staring at himself in the mirror until the maids called him for bed.
Noticing that Eric had zoned out, his dad said, "That could never be me," trying to get Eric to laugh. But Eric was used to these situations. He just gave a quick smile followed by a brief chuckle to appease his father.
At the corner of Eric's eye, he saw a group of staff, mostly women, coming from the lower floors. He was impressed by their ability to balance huge trays full of food and drinks in both hands. As they walked toward the tables, the glasses of drinks clunked together. Like a bright light, his mind flashed back to the past, to a memory full of nostalgia. It might seem stupid to other people, even to his peers, but Eric had always wished that if he were reborn, he would be reborn into a fantasy world with taverns and adventurers, just like in the amazing fantasy anime he had watched from start to finish. It was a life he knew he would never have, not again anyway. In other words, it was simply a fantasy to him right now. He wanted to be admired and respected by others, and most importantly to him, to be loved by others. When he was just a little boy, he had watched people admire and respect his father, not just for his good looks, but for his success in business. To Eric, the very symbol of success was his father. He might not have known much about his father's past, but he definitely knew his father hadn't always been rich. His father had been born and raised somewhere near the Nile River, in the Nu'er tribe. His escape from his childhood lifestyle to what he was now was almost like a miracle to Eric: a new lifestyle with an in-home gym, a swimming pool, and businesses generating millions of pounds per month. Despite being his father's son, he often felt he would never succeed his father in anything. He couldn't imagine himself being his father, and that scared him. He knew that his father gave him everything he needed: a good education at a good school, good food, and personal items. To disappoint his father after all he had done for him would be no better than stabbing his father's dreams and expectations for him, not just academically, but in terms of one day being ready to inherit everything his father owned.
Their young waiter for the night was approaching their table, carrying a single tray with their food and drinks.
"Here is your dinner for this lovely night, sirs."
Eric cringed at his horrible American accent mixed with his unnatural professionalism. It gave him secondhand embarrassment.
"Thank you," Eric and his father said, one after the other.
"I will regularly check on you guys to see if you need anything else, or you can just wave me over."
The more he talked, the more Eric wanted him to stop talking and just leave.
"Okay," his father said.
The waiter walked away and descended to the lower floors.
As soon as he was gone, they helped themselves to their hot, steaming dinner. But out of the corner of his eye, Eric could see the girls from the opposite table taking quick glances at them. Eric felt a little uncomfortable but decided to ignore it. He took a spoonful of his fried rice and paused, appreciating the warmth of the heat descending his throat. He mixed it with his sweet-and-sour chicken. The only difference this time was the sweetness, which, strangely enough, complemented the heat of the fried rice and covered his tongue in sweet gravy, with a sweet aftertaste. When he was done, there wasn't a single grain of rice left on the plate. He then washed it down with his Sprite. He thought his drink was sweeter than usual, but he didn't pay it any mind. He gulped it all down and released a burp that should have escaped his mouth but escaped through his nose instead, with a slight burn. He was so caught up in his feast that he didn't notice his father had finished long before him.
"You finished before me. Were you that hungry?" Eric said in amazement.
"I'm on a diet, so I really didn't eat anything from this morning until now."
Before Eric could respond, he noticed someone standing in front of their table.
"Excuse me, sir, could I have a moment with you, please?"
It was the same woman who had been staring at them.
"Is there something wrong, or something I can help you with, miss?" his father said.
"Oh no, I just want to talk to you privately, if you don't mind."
His father took a second to ponder before deciding to go with her. As they walked away, Eric heard chuckles coming from her friends' table.
He sighed, took his phone out of his pocket, and browsed the internet. As he scrolled, he came across a thumbnail of a man looking directly at the camera. Eric knew who he was. His name was Sean Makuei, a well-known podcaster whose fame had quickly spread across most of the English-speaking African countries. His fame had risen from his unmatched humor and knowledge about a lot of things. He had once been a South Sudanese politician before retiring two years ago. Knowing how entertaining his podcast and videos could be, Eric clicked on the video and retrieved his wireless AirPods from his pocket. As soon as he connected them to his Bluetooth and put them on, the first thing he heard was, "YOU ALL CAN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU ALL ABOUT THIS."
Eric smiled, thinking, What is he talking about now?
Makuei cleared his throat.
"For those of you who don't know about the news, the South Sudanese and United States governments gave the world some news just a few hours ago. I'll inform you. At 2:25 p.m. this afternoon, the South Sudanese and United States governments came together to discuss the asteroid, which spans four and a half miles and is on a course to hit either Nigeria, South Africa, Ghana, or South Sudan. And at 5:47 p.m., both governments came on live television on every African news channel, and even the United States news channels, to inform us that they have decided not to destroy the asteroid for reasons they won't tell us. They also said that if the asteroid hits South Sudan, which apparently has the highest probability of being the strike zone, they will not sell or give it to any country, including the United States. A representative of the United States stated, 'I regret to say that the South Sudanese government has decided not to accept our offer to buy the asteroid. But we will still offer our services to protect the South Sudanese people and to strengthen our bond as two countries.' And with that, it shifted to them talking about the consequences it might have on the African countries, and how they can cushion the impact. Just so you all know, every African country has decided that if the asteroid hits their country, they will sell it to the U.S. for half a trillion dollars. Only the South Sudanese government refuses to give it to them if it strikes here. I can only guess it's because they think they don't need the United States anymore. With the South Sudanese economy skyrocketing, life for the South Sudanese people improving, and their military strength growing, South Sudan isn't really reliant on any country at the moment. But what's so bad about this, you may be wondering? What's so bad about this? It's their silence. Both governments didn't give us any information other than that it might hit some African countries and how big it is. They didn't tell us the date. They didn't tell us the area it might hit. They didn't tell us why the United States even wants the asteroid, or why our government refuses to sell it to them, despite how close the two countries have gotten since 2027. I know when the government is trying to hide something. I don't know what makes the asteroid so special, but whatever makes it special has a worth in numbers we can't even imagine. That being said, I hope these days aren't the calm before the storm."
And with that, the video ended.
After watching the clip from one of his hour-long videos, Eric felt strangely calm.
"They must be overreacting. There's no way they would really let the asteroid hit without some kind of plan," he said, trying to pass the news off as one of those stories where you think something terrible is about to happen, but it turns out to be a false alarm.
A few minutes later, his father came back with a smirk on his face, and the woman wore one too. It didn't take many guesses for Eric to work out what had happened. At the corner of his eye, he could hear the women whispering to one another. It reminded him of the girls who used to sit on the grass and watch him and his former teammates play soccer all evening, sitting and giggling with one another.
"You ready to go?" his father asked.
"Yeah, we can go."
His father waved over the waiter to pay the bill, and they left the restaurant soon after.