Monday arrived with a different kind of energy.
Not the usual sleepy Monday atmosphere filled with complaints, unfinished assignments, and students dragging themselves through corridors.
This one felt alive.
Purposeful.
From early morning, All-Star Foundation College was already buzzing with movement as preparations for the Parent Art Fair and Cultural Day took over almost every corner of the school. ✨
Students hurried through hallways carrying framed artworks, banners, paint supplies, fabrics, cultural props, extension cords, and event tags while teachers moved around trying desperately to maintain order.
But honestly...
Organization was already losing the battle 😭
Especially because the seniors had completely taken over.
Voices echoed everywhere.
"Careful with that frame!"
"Who moved the cultural display board?!"
"The projector should face THIS side!"
"Please don't touch the sculpture!"
"Where's AraBaddie?!"
Inside the student museum, things looked breathtaking already.
The museum itself had always been one of the pride points of All-Star Foundation College: a modern glass-and-marble structure built to display exceptional student projects, historical academic achievements, paintings, sculptures, and creative works collected over the years.
But today?
Today it looked magical. ✨
Soft golden lights illuminated the artworks beautifully while carefully arranged display stands stretched across the large hall. Paintings of different styles decorated the walls; abstract art, emotional sketches, portraits, landscapes, cultural illustrations, and mixed-media designs.
Every section told a different story.
Some artworks carried quiet sadness.
Some screamed confidence.
Some looked expensive enough to belong in international galleries.
And honestly…
Some looked confusing enough to make parents pretend they understood them 😂😭
Near the entrance stood a large elegant banner:
🎨 ALL-STAR FOUNDATION COLLEGE
Parent Art Fair & Cultural Exhibition 🌍
Beneath it, students welcomed guests with practiced smiles that slowly became real as excitement filled the atmosphere.
By 10AM, parents had already started arriving steadily.
Luxury cars rolled into the school compound one after another while security officials guided visitors toward the museum building.
And immediately...
The atmosphere changed.
Elegant heels clicked softly against polished floors.
Expensive perfumes blended into the air.
Soft conversations layered beautifully around the museum.
"This is beautiful."
"The students did all this?"
"Oh wow… look at this painting."
"I can't believe secondary school students made these."
Everywhere, cameras flashed. 📸✨
Students tried to act professional while secretly panicking inside.
At the center of the museum stood AraBaddie, dressed elegantly in a fitted cream blazer dress with subtle gold accessories that made her look less like a student and more like someone hosting a luxury event in Paris. 😭✨
Her phone remained in her hand as always.
Content never slept.
"Okay, nobody panic," she announced while fixing one of the display tags. "If anything goes wrong, just pretend it was intentional."
"That is terrible advice," MideFlex replied calmly as he approached with a clipboard tucked beneath his arm.
And unfortunately...
He looked annoyingly good again.
A fitted dark-grey shirt rested perfectly against his frame while his sleeves were folded neatly to his forearms. Clean black trousers and polished sneakers completed the look effortlessly.
Even some parents were already noticing him 😭
AraBaddie looked him over briefly.
"You look like you own the museum."
"I look organized," Flex corrected smoothly while checking the arrangement list. "Something this event clearly lacks."
"You've said that fourteen times already," AraBaddie sighed dramatically.
"And I'll say it fifteen."
Nearby, BigDave adjusted one of the artwork stands before stepping back proudly.
"There," he announced confidently. "Perfect."
The stand tilted immediately.
Everybody stared.
Gift blinked slowly.
"You somehow made it worse."
"I was testing stability," BigDave defended himself quickly.
"You failed," Lolade replied smoothly while walking past them carrying event brochures.
And once again...
The atmosphere shifted slightly.
Lolade looked stunning. 👀✨
She wore a fitted deep-green cultural-inspired gown detailed with subtle beadwork around the sleeves and waist. Her makeup was soft but sharp enough to naturally pull attention while long earrings shimmered whenever she moved.
Even some parents turned twice.
Gift walked beside her in softer brown tones, simple but elegant enough for her natural beauty to stand out effortlessly.
"Please tell me parents are actually buying these artworks," Gift whispered quietly.
"Oh, they're buying," AraBaddie replied immediately. "One parent already asked for the price of that abstract painting."
Everybody turned toward it.
Three black lines.
One red circle.
That was it.
MideFlex stared silently.
"What exactly does this represent?"
AraBaddie folded her arms confidently.
"Pain."
BigDave nodded seriously.
"I see the vision indeed."
"You people are lying," Gift replied instantly 😂😭
Soft traditional music suddenly drifted from the cultural section nearby as students dressed in different cultural outfits moved around preparing displays.
Bright fabrics.
Traditional beads.
Art displays.
Soft lights.
Expensive conversations.
Everything blended together beautifully.
And for a moment...
It truly felt like one of those elite school events people only saw online. ✨
Parents moved from artwork to artwork speaking with students directly while some pieces were purchased immediately.
One mother paused in front of a portrait painting.
"This was made by a student?" she asked in genuine disbelief.
"Yes ma," the young artist replied nervously.
"That's extraordinary."
The girl nearly fainted from happiness 😭
Then...
Tayo arrived.
And unfortunately...
His timing was perfect again.
He stepped into the museum wearing a clean fitted black shirt and tailored trousers, his presence immediately drawing attention without effort.
Even some mothers noticed 😭
BigDave leaned toward MideFlex immediately.
"Your rival has arrived."
"He's not my rival," Flex replied calmly.
"Your jaw says otherwise."
Flex ignored him completely.
But across the hall...
Lolade had already noticed Tayo too.
And somehow…
He noticed her at the exact same moment.
Dangerous. 👀🔥
The event continued beautifully around them.
Laughter filled the museum softly.
Parents admired paintings.
Teachers smiled proudly.
Students moved around excitedly.
Everything seemed perfect.
Too perfect.
Until...
"WHO IS IN CHARGE OF THIS EVENT?!" 🔥
The sharp voice sliced through the museum like broken glass.
The entire hall fell silent instantly.
Parents stopped walking.
Students froze.
Even the background music suddenly felt uncomfortable.
Heads turned immediately toward the entrance.
And then...
They saw her.
A woman in her mid-forties stood near the center aisle with intimidating elegance wrapped around her like royalty itself.
Her rich caramel skin glowed beneath the museum lights while her makeup looked so flawless it could've been sponsored.✨
Everything about her screamed power.
From the emerald-green luxury kaftan flowing around her body to the heavy diamond rings resting against perfectly manicured fingers.
But her face?
Cold.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
"What are you all looking at?" she snapped again, her deep voice commanding the entire room. "Who is in charge here?"
AraBaddie immediately hurried toward her in heels, forcing professionalism onto her face despite the tension rising around the museum.
"I am, ma," she replied politely.
The woman slowly looked her up and down with visible disgust.
"Why is a girl in charge of this?" she asked bluntly. "Are you even responsible enough?"
Nearby students exchanged shocked looks immediately.
That didn't sound like a question.
That sounded personal.
But AraBaddie kept her composure beautifully.
"Good morning ma," she replied calmly.
The woman scoffed loudly.
"Do you know who I am?"
"Of course," AraBaddie answered politely while adjusting the event file in her hand. "One of our esteemed parents."
"I mean my name, dear" the woman snapped while stepping closer aggressively.
AraBaddie glanced briefly toward the registration booklet.
And suddenly—
The woman slightly raised her hand.
Not fully.
But enough to make nearby students tense immediately.
Before anything could happen...
BigDave stepped in quickly beside AraBaddie.
"You must be Madam Dikko,the sponsor of the school jet" he said carefully.
The woman's eyes narrowed sharply.
"Hajiya Amina Bello-Dikko, you fool."
The entire area gasped 😭🔥
Violation.
Complete violation.
You had absolutely no right to insult students publicly.
Not even in All-Star Foundation College.
Whispers immediately spread around the museum.
"Did she just call him a fool?"
"In front of everybody?"
"What is happening?"
Even some parents looked uncomfortable now.
Because this wasn't just any parent.
This was Hajiya Amina Bello-Dikko.
And in Lagos elite society...
That name carried terrifying weight.
Wife of Barrister Ibrahim Dikko, SAN; one of the most feared commercial lawyers in Nigeria. The kind of man whose presence alone could make companies start settling lawsuits privately before court even began.
People said once his name appeared on a case file, opposing counsel already knew the billable rate started from ₦25 million per day.
And Hajiya Amina herself?
Equally untouchable.
Founder of Amina Dikko Cosmetics, the billion-naira beauty empire quietly dominating luxury cosmetic distribution across West Africa and the Middle East.
No influencer noise.
No fake luxury.
Just quiet power.
The kind of woman who didn't post designer bags online.
She posted contracts signed in Dubai. ✨
Rumors said the Dikko family owned: ✈️ A Bombardier Global 6000 private jet
🏝️ A beach house in Accra
🏡 A triplex in Banana Island
🏛️ A twelve-bedroom villa in Asokoro
And somehow...
She still looked furious.
BigDave swallowed carefully.
"Do you need anything, ma?"
"Yes," Hajiya Amina replied sharply. "My son's painting. I want to buy it. In fact, I want to take it immediately."
"What's the batch number?" BigDave asked while collecting AraBaddie's clipboard.
"Art53."
BigDave checked quickly.
Then froze.
Art53 had already been marked sold.
His throat tightened instantly.
How exactly was he supposed to explain this?
Before he could speak, MideFlex stepped forward calmly and checked the list himself.
"Why are you keeping me waiting?" Hajiya Amina demanded impatiently while nearby parents openly watched the drama now.
Flex lifted his eyes calmly.
"It has been sold, ma."
Silence.
Dead silence.
"What?" she asked slowly.
"There are still other excellent paintings available," Flex added smoothly.
"Who bought it?" she demanded immediately, her voice dropping dangerously low. "And for how much?"
Across the hall, AraBaddie pointed carefully toward a sophisticated woman standing near another art section.
"We told her £500," AraBaddie explained carefully, "but she insisted on paying £1000."
The museum gasped again 😭🔥
Even teachers turned now.
Hajiya Amina stared toward the woman.
Then immediately began walking toward her.
The crowd parted naturally.
"Good morning ma," Hajiya Amina said tightly.
The older woman turned gracefully.
"How may I help you?"
"I heard you took my son's painting."
The woman blinked slowly.
"Who's this?" she asked lightly. "Took? I bought paintings worth what they deserved."
"Bought?" Hajiya Amina repeated in disgust.
"Which artwork are we discussing exactly?"
"Art53."
"Oh," the woman smiled softly. "That painting is extraordinary."
"I want it back."
"I'm afraid that's impossible."
"I said I want to buy it," Hajiya Amina repeated firmly.
The woman turned calmly toward another painting while her secretary noted something down.
"It's too late," she replied. "I don't trade pieces once acquired."
"What?" Hajiya Amina snapped loudly. "Is this some kind of nonsense?"
The older woman finally turned properly.
"Mind your language, young woman."
The museum froze again 😭🔥
Young woman?!
"Do you know who I am?" Hajiya Amina asked sharply.
"Who?" the woman replied calmly.
"Hajiya Amina Bello-Dikko."
Even the woman paused briefly.
Then she smiled politely.
"It's an honor to meet you," she admitted gracefully. "But I still cannot return the artwork."
"How much do you want?" Hajiya Amina asked immediately while reaching for her purse.
The woman tilted her head slightly.
"£2500."
Oscar nearly choked 😭
BigDave's eyes widened.
Gift gasped loudly beside Lolade.
Even MideFlex looked genuinely surprised.
"Over my son's painting?" Hajiya Amina asked in disbelief.
"You keep saying that," the woman replied calmly. "But once displayed here, it became part of the fair."
"Excuse me?"
"It's called a Parent Art Fair," she continued smoothly. "Not a Student Possession Fair."
The tension became unbearable.
"So you just walk in here buying everything like it's some marketplace?" Hajiya Amina snapped.
"A fair is still a fair."
"Who exactly do you think you are?"
The woman finally turned fully.
And smiled.
"Isabella Okoli-Fashola."
The museum gasped again 😭🔥
Because that name?
That name landed differently.
Isabella Okoli-Fashola.
Founder and Director of The Young Canvas Gallery Lagos, one of the most respected names in the Nigerian art industry.
The woman who discovered young artists and turned them into millionaires before thirty.
Last year alone, she reportedly sold a 22-year-old painter's work for ₦58 million.
People said once your work became "Okoli-approved," your future changed instantly.
Even teachers looked starstruck now.
"You own that gallery?" Hajiya Amina asked carefully, embarrassment finally touching her expression slightly.
"Yes."
"It's honestly an honor that my son's work attracted someone like you."
"Good," Isabella replied softly before turning back toward the artworks again.
"But regardless," Hajiya Amina continued stubbornly, "I still want my son's painting."
Isabella finally looked amused.
"Why do I suddenly feel disrespected?"
"Because you should be," Hajiya Amina replied proudly. "Are you even a parent? This is a Parent Art Fair. Who exactly is your son?"
The entire atmosphere shifted instantly.
AraBaddie moved closer nervously and whispered softly into Hajiya Amina's ear.
"Her sonwas once but he is dead…"
Actual suspense filled the museum.
Even Isabella's secretary stopped writing.
But Hajiya Amina barely reacted.
"I don't care," she replied coldly. "I still want my son's painting."
Gift slowly covered her mouth.
Lolade stared in complete shock.
Even MideFlex frowned deeply now.
And then...
A powerful voice echoed from the museum entrance.
"QUI FAIT AUTANT DE BRUIT DANS CETTE FOIRE?!" 🔥
Everybody turned immediately.
Le Foudateur had entered.
Tall. Elegant. Intimidating.
His sharp eyes scanned the museum slowly while teachers immediately straightened themselves in panic.
And at that exact moment...
Everybody knew.
Something serious was about to happen. 👀🔥