Yogo looked at his shoes, his eyes steadily inching to his trousers. He rubbed his thighs and lifted his eyes to steal a look at the man opposite him, the scent of his cologne saturated the room demanding attention as soon as he sat.

The scent was subtle but pervasive, it wasn’t roaring and stinging like most colognes. He smelt expensive. The man looked like a page out of a magazine. The man had broad shoulders, muscular; clasping the charcoal grey suit to them forcing one to take notice. His firm thighs, grasped and defined through the suit trousers, spread allowing his sleek slim tie to dangle between them. His shoes couldn’t have been less than 1,000 dollars. He seemed to fit the ideal look.

Yogo tugged at his 1 dollar tie and let his fingers linger over it, mentally comparing it to the slim rectangular tie the other gentleman had. He liked his navy blue suit but it couldn’t outdo that charcoal grey one. He looked down at his shoes still touching his tie wondering if he had a chance at this job.

“Be yourself and never forget how far you have come Yogo! Do you hear me? What you have achieved in your short lifespan is all that matters. Whatever the decision, remember, you define your success and not others.”

His mother’s words played in his mind repeatedly, calming him down. His thoughts are disrupted by a loud burst of laughter, it’s the other man, who raises his hand gesturing an apology as he stands to complete his phone call in the corridor.

His frame, even more, intimidating as he rose to over 6’5”, Yogo quickly replayed his mother’s words in his mind to calm himself down.

“Kwesi!” a female voice calls out almost seductively.

The man seated next to Yogo arises buttoning his suit and is led down another corridor to the left of the reception. Yogo felt his heartbeat, his phone rang and startled him more. He smiled out of embarrassment by the shrill disco tune which was funny when it rang at home or when he was in his project management class.

Yogo went to the corridor outside the office as well to take his call. His small feature phone was no match for the colossal smartphone this scented beast of a man spoke into with a reverberating roar.

Yogo was afraid to answer, but the shrill ring tone, he couldn’t silence, persisted. The beastly man was beginning to take notice, Yogo was unconsciously moving closer to him now making the situation more awkward. He quickly answered the phone, turned his back to the man’s back and spoke.

“Hello!” he tweeted to the caller.

He cleared his voice in an attempt to sound deeper, but it only sounded shriller now attracting the unwanted attention of the “beast” who was now walking back to the reception. His cologne engulfed Yogo who was unusually aroused by it. He felt embarrassed to feel that way. He walked further down the corridor towards the lifts to complete his call.

Two minutes later, as he walked back to the reception, he stopped midway, turned and looked at the lifts then the door to the consultancy firm, then back. He did this for thirty seconds. He sighed and reluctantly walked to the lift which was opening and left.