Chapter Two – Borrowed Crowns
The next morning, sunlight crept through the blinds, painting stripes across Zara's face. She groaned, rolling over on the sofa where she had fallen asleep still wearing yesterday's dress. Her phone buzzed again and again on the table, dragging her awake.
She squinted at the screen.
Bank Alert: Debited ₦12,500 – Loan Repayment.
Bank Alert: Debited ₦7,000 – Loan Repayment.
Warning: You have defaulted on your loan. Legal action may be taken.
Zara's stomach clenched. She had forgotten today was repayment day. The apps always found their way into her account, scraping whatever balance she had left. She sat up, her chest tight with panic. If she didn't come up with money soon, her phone would start ringing with threatening calls, and worse—her parents might find out.
Her parents. They thought she was a successful fashion consultant in Lagos, building a name for herself in the industry. In reality, she was juggling borrowed clothes, fake designer bags, and debt big enough to drown her.
Her phone buzzed again—this time, a voice call. The screen flashed with the name she dreaded most: "CashPro Loans."
She declined it, biting her lip hard. Not now. Not today.
Instead, she pulled herself together and opened her wardrobe. Today she had to see Daniel. That meant she needed to look like the Zara he thought she was—the glamorous, wealthy young woman who never repeated outfits.
She ran her fingers across the hangers, most of them occupied by clothes that weren't even hers. She had built good relationships with boutique owners across the city, always promising them "exposure" in exchange for borrowing clothes. Some were kind enough to play along, but lately, even they were getting tired of her endless requests.
Her phone beeped with a WhatsApp message. It was from Kendra, her rival in the influencer world.
> Kendra: Babe, I hope you're ready for tonight's launch party. Word is, some big investors will be there. Don't say I didn't warn you 😘.
Zara froze. She had completely forgotten about the event. The launch party was the place to be—journalists, celebrities, and brands would all be present. If she didn't show up looking flawless, her followers would notice. And if she did show up, she needed a dress worthy of headlines.
Two events. Two outfits. Zero money.
Her heart sank as she sat on the bed. Daniel wanted something simple, but she couldn't let him see her looking anything less than expensive. And tonight's party? She couldn't afford to miss it—it was her only chance to network with the right people who might actually pay her for the lifestyle she was faking.
The knock on her door startled her. "Who's that?" she called out.
"It's me, babe," Tasha's voice rang through.
Zara sighed in relief, pulling the door open. Tasha walked in, carrying two garment bags and her ever-present energy. "Don't worry, girl. I've got you."
"What do you mean?" Zara asked, raising an eyebrow.
Tasha unzipped one of the bags with a flourish, revealing a stunning emerald-green gown dripping with sequins. "This is for the launch party. Straight from a new boutique that owes me favors."
Zara's eyes widened. "Tasha… it's perfect."
"And for your Daniel," Tasha continued, unzipping the second bag, "this." Inside was a chic, cream-colored jumpsuit—simple, elegant, but still glamorous enough to keep up her illusion.
Zara hugged her best friend tightly, tears stinging her eyes. "What would I do without you?"
Tasha chuckled. "Probably be exposed by now."
The words lingered in the air like smoke. Zara laughed weakly, but in her chest, fear burned. She was living on borrowed crowns—clothes, money, even time.
And somewhere deep down, she knew borrowed crowns eventually slipped.
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