A Party to Remember
The Argument.
The air in the room felt heavy, like a storm was about to break. I stood in front of my mother, my fingers tapping impatiently against my leg. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to keep my voice steady.
"Please, Mom," I begged, my words coming out in a rush. "Just give me the money. I promise I'll use it for something important."
She turned slowly, her sharp eyes locking onto mine. A deep sigh escaped her lips, and I could already tell she wasn't convinced.
"Hmph," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "Use it for something important? More like waste it on some ridiculous party with your so-called friends."
Anger flared inside me, hot and sudden. My jaw tightened, but I bit back my words. There was no point arguing—she had already made up her mind. Without another word, I spun around and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me so hard the walls shook.
The loud bang echoed through the hallway as I marched straight to my room. Once inside, I repeated the gesture—another sharp crack as my bedroom door crashed shut. I threw myself onto the bed, my mind racing.
And then, like a flash of lightning, it hit me.
My savings.
The Hidden Fortune
Ever since I was a kid, I had been saving money—birthday gifts, holiday cash, spare change from allowances. I had tucked it away in different places, never spending a single naira unless I absolutely had to.
Now, I grabbed my phone and started checking every account, every investment, every digital wallet I had ever used.
And then—there it was.
10 million naira.
A slow, proud smile spread across my face. I had done this. Me. All those years of discipline had finally paid off.
But just as quickly as the pride came, it faded.
It wasn't enough.
Not even close.
I needed more.
Calling in Favors
I did the only thing I could think of—I called my richest friends. The ones whose families had more money than they knew what to do with.
"Hey," I said, my voice smooth and confident. "I need a favor. Can you lend me 15 million? I'll pay you back in six months."
To my surprise, they agreed.
Five minutes later, my phone buzzed—a credit alert. The money had landed in my account.
Now, I had 25 million naira in my hands.
But I still wasn't satisfied.
Chapter 4: The Last Resort
I checked every app, every investment, every hidden stash of cash I could think of. But nothing. Empty. All of them.
Defeat gnawed at me, but I refused to give up.
There was only one option left.
I had to go back to Mom.
Swallowing my pride, I pushed myself off the bed and marched back to her room. This time, when I knocked, she actually let me in.
The room was different now—cleaner, more organized. She was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone, barely looking at me as I entered. I grabbed the nearest chair and sat down, my fingers fidgeting in my lap.
"Mom," I started, my voice softer now, filled with fake regret. "I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. Please forgive me."
She glanced up, her eyes narrowing. Then, with a dismissive hiss, she turned away.
"David, I can't just hand you a fortune so you can throw some flashy party. That's not what your father worked for."
I nodded, playing the obedient son. "You're right, Mom. You're absolutely right. But… if you can't give me the full 30 million, could you at least give me 5 million? Please?"
She exhaled sharply, her shoulders sagging in resignation.
"Fine," she muttered. "But listen to me—no drugs, no alcohol, no strippers, and definitely no sex. You're too young for any of that nonsense."
I nodded eagerly. "I understand, Mom. I promise, none of that will happen."
She fixed me with a hard stare. "David, I mean it. I don't want the police involved. I don't need them sniffing around because of some stupid teenage mistake."
"Of course, Mom," I said, standing up and pulling her into a hug. A false promise dripped from my lips—one I had already decided to break.
The moment I stepped out of her room, my phone buzzed again.
Credit Alert: 5,000,000 Naira.
A wicked grin spread across my face.
Now, I had 30 million naira.
The party was on.
The Preparation
Without wasting a second, I changed into something stylish and snatched the keys to one of my father's cars. The mansion had at least ten luxury vehicles, each one more expensive than the last.
I chose the blue and black Bugatti Chiron.
The engine roared to life as I sped toward the biggest mall in the city. I needed everything—decorations, food, drinks, lights, snacks—everything.
I went all out.
And when I was done, I named the event:
#APartyToRemember
I posted it online, and within minutes, it went viral.
The shopping bags piled up, the cart overflowing with supplies. There was so much that I had the mall arrange for delivery.
But there was one problem—the alcohol.
Mom could not see it.
So, I made sure the mall staff hid the bottles carefully, disguising them among the other packages.
When the delivery truck arrived later that evening, I bolted outside, waving my arms frantically to stop them from pulling into the compound.
"Park outside the fence!" I ordered. "Make sure my mom doesn't see anything!"
A few workers helped me sneak everything inside, especially the drinks. I had them stash all the alcohol in the fridge—cold and ready for the big night.
The Final Touches
Three days before the party, Mom finally left for a hotel lounge, giving me the perfect window.
Two days before, I made another call—this time, for strippers.
Another broken promise.
They arrived a day before the event, slipping into the mansion unnoticed.
And then—just when I thought I was in the clear—Mom called.
"David," she said, her voice firm. "A party isn't complete without security. I've hired 50 bodyguards for you. They'll make sure everything stays under control."
My stomach dropped.
Fifty bodyguards?!
But I couldn't refuse.
So, I drafted a security plan.
The mansion had three entrances:
Point A: The back entrance—strictly for family and VIPs. I stationed 10 guards there.
Point B: The side entrance—reserved for special guests. 15 guards covered this area.
Point C: The main gate—only invited friends and classmates allowed. The remaining 25 guards stood watch here.
With everything set, all that was left was to wait.
Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed. I hadn't slept in days, too busy making sure this party would be legendary.
And it would be.
Because this wasn't just any party.
This was #APartyToRemember.
And I was ready to make sure no one ever forgot it.
To be continued…