The hospital scene was where it got deep.
Folarin's character was supposed to have suffered a bad fall trying to do his physical therapy on his own after he and his brother, Chuka's character, had had a fight that led to the latter moving out. The makeup artist had just done Folarin's bruises and was heading out the door when Chuka came in to prepare for the scene. The sight of Folarin stopped him in his tracks for a few seconds. The girl was really an artist because Folarin looked terrible. His head was bandaged, his face 'badly bruised', and his eyes had the sunken look of someone who had been sleeping far longer than any healthy person should. Chuka walked to the chair by the bed, eyes fixed on Folarin, an odd look on his face.
Folarin laughed. "She try abi?" His eyes had followed Chuka from the door and watched him as he sat.
"Yeah." Chuka said, in a low voice. "Yeah, she finish work."
Folarin frowned. "Guy, wetin happen? What's wrong?"
Chuka lowered his head and let out a deep sigh. "Nothing."
Folarin sat up. "Chuka."
Silence. Chuka still had his head bowed.
"Bro. What the fuck? What's wrong with you?", Folarin pressed.
Silence.
"Chuka!"
Chuka lifted his head but looked sideways. Then just like his character was supposed to in the scene they were about to shoot, he looked at Folarin's hand and took it. When Chuka finally lifted his eyes to look at him, Folarin saw them filled with emotion, tears already building, threatening to fall down his face. "Guy wetin..."
"Fo'.", Chuka interrupted, then paused. "Never end up here." Chuka tried to blink back the tears in his eyes as he spoke, but it did nothing to erase the raw emotion in them. And despite Chuka's best efforts, Folarin still heard the heart-breaking crack in his voice as he added an earnest, "Please."
Now, one thing that every living soul affiliated with Nollywood knew for an absolute fact was that, as good an actor as he was, Chukwukadibia Amadi could not cry on demand to save his own life. Literally. You could point a loaded gun at his head and threaten to squeeze the trigger if he didn't manufacture his own tears for emotional scenes and still, his eyes would remain drier than dust.
He always needed help. If it wasn't eye drops, it was the vaporub-on-the-cheek trick. So, Folarin's realization that this was no joke came swiftly. As he watched his best friend have a mini meltdown, he mentally kicked himself for not anticipating what a scene like this might do to Chuka, who had lost several loved ones in hospitals.
Folarin was about to speak when, the Director came back in the room with the rest of the skeleton crew they were using for that scene. The hospital had placed a strict restriction on the number of set members they would be allowing in the hospital for filming. "Are we ready?", the Director asked and answered his own question when he looked at both men. "Makeup is done. And Chuka, you've used your eye drop. Good. Good. So, we can start." He looked at the lighting technician. "Light?"
"Ready, Sir."
"Camera?"
The cinematographer gave him the 'okay' sign.
"Alright." He turned to Chuka and Folarin. "Action."
The next morning, Folarin surprised himself by actually waking up when his 6a.m alarm rang the first time. God, he grumbled, what kind of sick individuals get up at this hour on a weekend?
He swung his feet off the bed and just sat there, eyes closed, wondering if he should just get one more hour. If you go back to sleep, it won't be just an hour and you're never going to do this, his rational voice said, giving its unsolicited opinion.
Folarin was ready to throw his head back on the pillow in rebellion.
~ "Please." ~
It was Chuka's voice this time. The one that had seriously fucked with his emotions, as he watched his guy beg him not to die.
And Folarin's eyes opened. Sighing deeply, he got up and went to get his workout clothes. After the hospital scene had wrapped the day before, as everyone was leaving the hospital, Folarin had excused himself. "I dey come."
"Where you dey go?" Chuka had asked. They were supposed to go get drinks at their favourite lounge.
"Em...I wan piss.", he said. "If I tey, just dey go. I'll catch up."
"Aiight." Chuka nodded. Folarin turned around, walking in the opposite direction. When he was sure the others had left the building, he changed course and headed for the doctor's office.
"Sir, please you can't just go..." a nurse was saying as she rushed after him.
Folarin turned to her. "Don't worry I'll sort the registrations and all that before I leave. Let me just sharply see him."
The doctor looked up at the exchange and then nodded at the nurse. She gave Folarin a warm, mildly flirty smile and left.
"Mr. Ishola." The doctor greeted. "Do you guys need something else?"
"No, Sir. We're done. I actually just need a mini consult if that's okay." Folarin said as he took a seat opposite the doctor. "And please call me Folarin."
"Sure." The doctor said, dropping his pen. "I'm free at the moment. So, what is the matter, Folarin?"
"Nothing actually. I just want to see about getting a check-up and then ask a few questions."
"Oh okay. Just to be sure everything is in order?"
"Exactly."
The doctor got up. "Well, I'm not sure there's time for a full physical exam; you would have to schedule that and come back another day, but in the meantime, we can check your vitals and a few basics."
"Okay."
After a check of his blood pressure and pulse rate, a reflex test and a quick listen to his heartbeat, the doctor drew some blood samples he would run some tests with later, then sat with Folarin to analyse what he had just checked. "Okay, so far, your reflexes are excellent, temperature normal and your heart sounds fine. However, BP is 127/82."
"Is that bad?" Folarin asked, slightly nervous.
"It's not, but gold standard is 120/80 so it's not the absolute best either. It's a little elevated. It's important to catch it before it goes any further."
Folarin nodded. "So how do I do that?"
"Try and eat a little healthier. If you drink and smoke, cut back or quit completely if you can and then get in some cardio."
Folarin tried not to groan. He hated cardio. He had a gym membership and was perfectly content to do the minimum required to keep him looking great and that required mostly strength training. He and the treadmill rarely made eye contact.
The doctor noticed his expression and laughed. "Not a fan?"
Folarin shook his head.
'Well, man shall not live by abs alone. The heart needs love too.", he said, amused. "It doesn't even have to be anything hectic. You can take long walks or jog along the bridge. You live in Lekki, yes?"
Folarin nodded then sighed. "Fine, doc. I'll do as you've said."
So here he was, at the foot of the bridge, staring at the people running all over the place like chickens with no heads and wondering how the hell he had now become one of them. He used to laugh at these clowns.
"Fo'?!"
Folarin turned to see Chuka jogging up behind him. Chuka's jaw nearly touched the ground as his eyes looked Folarin from head to toe. "What the..? You're actually here to jog?" Then he suddenly broke out in laughter. "Who you follow do bet?"
"Ode. Fine babes dey nau."
"Yeah, and I've told you that several times, but your response is always 'Abeg abeg, I go jam dem for club.' Wetin come happen?"
"Guy, na interview we come do here abi which one?", Folarin huffed.
Chuka laughed and jogged ahead, and Folarin sluggishly followed.
Barely ten minutes in, Folarin was ready to pass out and stopped. Chuka sensed he was no longer being followed and looked back to see his friend bent over the railing and panting. Laughing, he jogged back. "You're ridiculous.", he said as he stretched his water bottle out at Folarin who grabbed it and guzzled. "Sun never even commot yet."
Folarin could barely hear anything over the sound of his heart beating. He wondered for the umpteenth time why he was doing this.
"You good?"
He looked over at Chuka's laughing face.
~ Please. ~
Folarin rolled his eyes and stood up straight. He pushed the water bottle at Chuka's chest and let go when Chuka grabbed it. Then he started to jog ahead. He honestly wished he didn't like anyone this much.