Filming for the new movie began in earnest. As soon as he got back from Akure, Folarin worked with Chuka and Ikeji's favourite screenwriter to develop the script. The storyline and general idea were Chuka's, and then all three worked together to flesh it out. It was a story about two half-brothers who are taught to hate each other growing up and never get along. As adults, they part ways for good, with neither seeing nor speaking to the other for over a decade. When one of the brothers, an international soccer star, suffers a near-fatal accident that leaves him in a wheelchair, the other, now a sports medicine practitioner in Canada, begrudgingly returns home to help with his physical therapy. Pushing past all the hatred and animosity they had learned to develop for each other, they realise they have more in common than the father they share. And thus, a heart-warming, brotherly bond is finally formed, as the injured brother slowly regains use of his legs.
It was a damn good story; not that Folarin would ever say it to Chuka's hearing.
They were on set the second day of filming and Folarin, Chuka and Seyi were going through the script, circling scenes they could get good photos out of. "This one..." Seyi said, brow furrowed in concentration. "This one...this one is good too...aaaand...yes, this."
"I think that should give us enough content." Chuka said, nodding. All were scenes where both men had to be in very close proximity for the physical therapy exercises their characters had to do. They could work the camera angles to tell the rest of the story they needed to sell Annie.
"I think we can add the hospital bedside scene too.", Folarin chimed in. At their confused looks, he continued, "Therapist brother looks very worried. At this point, they've settled, so he can actually openly show how much he cares for his brother. We could pass it off as Chuka holding my hand and fussing over me, Folarin, actually sick in the hospital."
Seyi mulled it over and nodded slowly. "Yes, yes. And the fans would be extra mad at her for scaring them like that; making them think you were actually sick. Especially 'Wives Coalition'. They would fucking flip!", she laughed, obviously imagining the reactions. @folaisholawivescoalition was one of Folarin's fan clubs on Instagram and was followed actively and almost fanatically by over 8,000 women who called themselves his wives. Sometimes they did as much as sending food and massage therapists to film sets and locations for their 'husband' when he was working.
"I like it." She continued. "We'll add it."
"Alright then, let's do this." Chuka said, rising to his feet.
If he could pin-point when exactly it started happening, Folarin would say it was right after they had shot the tenth scene. They had been filming for most of the day. Chuka's solo scene ran a little longer because the Director wanted to perfect it before he had to run off for a few hours. Folarin was at the dining area of the huge house they were filming in. Food had been set out hours ago for the cast and crew to feed from.
Folarin had eaten a while ago and was pouring himself a glass of orange juice and pinching some finger food, when Chuka had come in, head bowed, tapping away at his phone. "Everything don cold?", he asked without looking up. The wires from the lights that were still up from the scene they had shot there, were right in Chuka's path and before he could stop himself, he was tripping over them.
Flailing, Chuka tried to regain his balance but instead went hurtling forward, right into Folarin, sending them both crashing to the floor. Folarin landed on his back with Chuka on top of him. Instinctively, Chuka's hand went up behind Folarin's head to protect it from impact.
Unbelievable! Folarin thought incredulously, trying to recover from the shock of what had just happened. He had always thought this was the kind of contrived, unrealistic nonsense that only took place in movies. Hollywood ones to be exact. How does this even happen?
"You good?" Chuka asked, when they had both recovered.
"Yeah.", a flustered Folarin managed.
Chuka scoffed. "Hard guy, hard guy... but I still swept you off your feet."
Chuka was obviously joking, but his hand was still cradling the back of Folarin's head, his eyes looking directly into his as he said that. Like he was some swooning woman. "Oga, get the fuck off me!", he said without much heat, pushing at Chuka's chest with his elbow.
Chuka smiled mischievously and stayed put. Fucking with Folarin was his favourite thing to do.
"I swear if anybody come this side, see us like this, I go end you."
Yeah, there would definitely be no way to explain this to even Seyi. Chuka scrambled to his feet and then held out a hand to pull Folarin up. And just in time too, because a few seconds later, a few members of the crew trooped in to also get lunch.
Chuka picked his phone off the floor and checked it for cracks. None. Phew! Folarin dusted bits of food off the front of his juice-drenched shirt as he scowled at his best friend. Chuka laughed and punched his arm playfully. "No vex. I get shirt for car. I dey come."
"I go bring am, wéré." Folarin held out his hand for Chuka's keys as the latter fished in his pocket for them and handed them over. "Chop. Your food dey that blue cooler.", Folarin said, pointing, then left to get changed.
Chuka walked over to the cooler and opened it to find a covered plate of food. He reached in to pull it out and was incredibly pleased to find that it was very warm - almost hot even. He hated cold food and had been certain he would have had to order something or go eat out. He opened the plate and grinned at its contents. Jollof and fried rice side by side with a higher jollof to fried ratio, moin-moin on the side with fish tail and a chicken thigh to top it off. Exactly what he would have dished. He ate with relish.
As he changed clothes, Folarin wondered about the weird tiny knot that had formed in his throat as his mind flashed back to the thing that seemed to have caused it.
"...but I still swept you off your feet."
Folarin shrugged it off and chalked it up to his body's reaction to a situation he had never been in before.
It was nothing.