How did it all began.

I got a text from my friend telling me Nic fainted. I recall being in a mall, standing in front of a mirror. We worked in the same office space. Nic was always working too hard, made more double dates than a person should. So when this actually happened, we simply concluded, it must be work. I dropped him a text, asking if he’s alright and his favourite reply was/is “Yo wassap?”. Maybe he thought it was cool (probably still think it is).

He is always hungry, I guess it didn’t strike me at that time when he said “Is there anything to eat in the office?”, and I offered my one and only Dove chocolate bar. I must stress how precious this bar is to me. At this point, Dove wasn’t even in the market just yet! And I actually saved it because when I took a bite from others, it was one of the smoothest commercialised chocolates I’ve ever tasted. Beats Cadbury! But you know, I didn’t want him to faint again so I just passed it over “Here, have it.”

About a week later, he walked over to my place, opened my drawer and put his hands in it, digging, and out came that chocolate. Shocked me, “What?! You hid it there??” Right under my nose, within my eyeshot, he hid the chocolate bar I gave him, still brand new.

Now this funny act of his caught my attention. So I guess, that is how it all began. For me.

He said it was when I handed him that bar of chocolate, how very nice of me to offer (but he didn’t say no). And the reason he hid it at my place “because it was the safest place I could think of.”

However, from the day I gave him that bar, till the week later when he was caught in my drawers *wink*, the boxes and boxes of the samples that were passed in the office, all gone, devoured by greed of the samplers. So when he retrieved that bar, and they saw him holding it, shouts of “WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!” “I THOUGHT THERE ISN’T ANY LEFT!” “CAN I HAVE SOME?!”, we aren’t in Bosnia people.

Though he denied them all, proclaiming it was given to him and it is his.

So I guess, that is how it all began. For him.

A story aged older than two. I suppose there’s a handful more of history and pranks to be told. Maybe one day, and some to be kept as secrets.


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