Among the Elite - 5 Stardust Literacy

5

5
THAT LATE EVENING
THE SETSHOANE HOUSEHOLD
KIARA'S ROOM
The room is a symphony of muted luxury. Satin curtains hang heavy over sprawling windows, casting soft shadows across the minimalist, designer furniture. Kiara sits cross-legged on her bed, her face illuminated by the cool glow of her phone screen. The events of the day play over in her mind like a gritty montage—Masi’s subtle betrayals, her mother’s loaded glances, and the looming pressure of her carefully crafted world.
Her fingers tap on the screen as she switches accounts. She pauses for a moment, considering the weight of her next move, then logs into an anonymous Instagram profile: "thewatcher".
"Secrets never stay buried, Masi. I know what you and your perfect little friends did four years ago. The truth always comes out—sometimes with a little push. Watch your back. "
A slow, menacing smile curls her lips. She sends the message, drops her phone onto the bed, and stands. Smoothing her silk robe, she glances at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
---
MINUTES LATER
THE LIVING ROOM
The living room hummed with restrained tension. The massive space, with its sleek marble floors, avant-garde sculptures, and oversized leather couches, feels cold despite the warm glow of the fireplace. Naledi Setshoane sits regally in an armchair, a glass of red wine in hand, scrolling through her tablet.
Kiara enters, her footsteps deliberate and light, but the sound of her heels on the marble is enough to make her presence known.
Naledi: Kea...
Naledi says without looking up, her tone clipped.
Naledi: Is there a reason you’re pacing the house like a restless spirit?
Kiara stops in her tracks, leaning casually against the back of the couch.
Kiara: Just thought you’d want to know—there might be a collaboration with the Zumas.
That gets Naledi’s attention. Her sharp eyes snap up, pinning Kiara in place.
Naledi: The Zumas?
Kiara: Yes, Mother. Thandeka’s family.
Kiara’s voice drips with false sweetness.
Kiara: We’re supposed to have dinner with them soon, but I’ll meet with Thandeka first. Get a sense of what they want before we bring the whole family into it.
Naledi sets her wine glass down with a clink.
Naledi: Thandeka. That girl has always been… unsettling.
Her eyes narrow.
Naledi: Don’t let her drag you into anything messy, Kiara. You have enough on your plate as it is. And remember—whatever they offer, the Setshoanes always have the upper hand. Do you understand?
Kiara: Perfectly
Kiara replies, her expression blank but her voice edged.
Kiara: Anything else?
Naledi’s lips press into a thin line.
Naledi: Be careful who you trust, Kiara. Even friends can become enemies.
Kiara doesn’t bother replying. She turns and leaves, her heart pounding.
---
BACK IN KIARA'S ROOM
The faint sound of classical music drifts from another wing of the house as Kiara reclines on her bed. She picks up her phone, scrolling through her messages before sending one to Thandeka.
"We need to talk. Tomorrow. Noon. My place."
Thandeka’s reply comes after a few moments.
"Alright. I’ll be there."
Kiara frowns slightly at the curt response, her nails tapping against the phone. No emojis, no unnecessary words. Thandeka’s usual tone of warmth and familiarity is absent.
"Good. See you then."
Thandeka doesn’t reply. Kiara tosses the phone aside, feeling a rare pang of unease before shaking it off.
---
THE NEXT DAY
SATURDAY MORNING
THE SOKHULU HOUSEHOLD
Lindelwa stands in front of her small closet, the floor around her littered with rejected outfits. She chews on her bottom lip, her brow furrowed.
Lindelwa: Cool but casual...
She mutters to herself.
Lindelwa: Not too plain… not too try-hard…
Finally, she settles on an oversized denim jacket, a white cropped tee, and high-waisted jeans. She finishes the look with sneakers and her favorite silver earrings. Simple. Approachable.
The tension in her house mirrors the anxiety in her chest. Her mother glares from the kitchen as she ties her sneakers.
Zanele: where are you going, young lady?
Her mother asks, her tone sharper than usual.
Lindelwa: Just to a friend’s house
Lindelwa replies without looking up.
Zanele: Which friend? Why does it feel like you’re sneaking out?
Lindelwa sighs heavily.
Lindelwa: It’s nothing like that. I’ll be back later, okay?
She waits for no other response and slams the door behind her, walking down the road with her phone in her hand requesting a trip to Kiara's house.
---
THE SETSHOANE HOUSEHOLD
The Setshoane mansion looms in the distance, its grandeur almost suffocating. The high iron gates are adorned with intricate designs, and beyond them, the driveway stretches into the distance, flanked by manicured hedges and fountains that sparkle in the sunlight.
Lindelwa hesitates for a moment before pressing the intercom button.
A polished voice responds.
Who is it?
Lindelwa: It’s Lindelwa Sokulu..
She says, trying to sound confident.
The gates creak open slowly, and she steps inside, her sneakers crunching against the gravel. Kiara meets her halfway up the path, dressed in effortless luxury—a simple yet chic sundress and designer sunglasses perched on her head.
Kiara: Hey
Kiara greets with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Lindelwa: Wow...
She says, looking around.
Lindelwa: Your house is…
In that moment Kiara thinks back to a overzelous recation to Masi's house. She remebers Masi's curt and short responses and realises just how much poor she must've sounded in that moment.
She clears her throat before cutting Lindelwa.
Kiara: its nothing really...
She says dismissively waving a hand.
Inside, the house is even more extravagant. High ceilings, marble floors, and modern art everywhere. Naledi is seated in the grand living room, a thin smile plastered on her face as her eyes rake over Lindelwa.
Naledi: You must be Lindelwa
Naledi says, her tone saccharine.
Naledi: Kea told me she'd have a friend over today... just diddn't expect--- this...me
She says looking Lindelwa up and down, not very fond of her. She looks very familiar, but to someone she can't pinpoint who exactly it must be.
Naledi: where are you from, again?
Befroe she can answer, Kiara cuts in.
Kiara: We’ll be upstairs.
Naledi’s smile tightens.
Naledi: Well, don’t let me keep you...
She says looking directly at Lindelwa trying to "figure" her out. Sshe swirls her wine glass in her hand and looks at her even more as she climbs the stairs behind her daughter...
It takes another few seconds and it clicks...she hold her one free hand over her mouth, and laughs shortly after. She hums as she makes her way to her flower garden.
Naledi: no way...
---
KIARA'S ROOM
Lindelwa relaxes as soon as they’re upstairs, sprawling on Kiara’s bed while Kiara sets up her phone. They spend the next hour making TikToks and snapping pictures, laughing as they critique each other’s poses.
A message notification pings on Kiara’s phone. She glances at the screen, her expression shifting from lighthearted to sharp in an instant.
Kiara: It’s Thandeka...
Kiara says, standing abruptly.
Lindelwa: What’s wrong?
Kiara doesn’t answer immediately. She’s already typing a response, her mind racing. She looks at Lindelwa then back at her phone, there's no way she'd let Thandeka find her wiht Lindelwa.
Kiara:uhm... do you mind leaving...? I have a guest. I need you to leave.
Confused and a bit hurt because she might have expected much, Lindelwa looks up at Kiara and tries to read her face but nothing. She collects her stuff and stands up at Kiara's words.
Lindelwa: sure
Kiara: let me walk you out....
She stands up and follows in Kiara's footsteps with her emotions still lingering aroud the house. Things didn't go quite and she has expected but it was a start. Her eyes meets Naledi's as they go down.
Naledi: already over? Aww..
Kiara: mom, please...
naledi looks at her daughter then focus all her energy on Lindelwa again, she scoffs and gets away amused and determined to have hit the jackpot.
---
AFTER A FEW MINUTES
Kiara stood at the edge of her bed, her arms crossed and her expression sharp, like a blade poised to strike. Thandeka sat perched on the sleek velvet chair by the window, her posture composed but her eyes glinting with something unreadable—a mix of curiosity and cautious calculation.
Kiara: So, why are you doing this?
Thandeka tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
Thandeka: Why wouldn’t I? It’s a good deal, Kiara. My family gets exposure in new markets, and yours—well, I’m sure Naledi has her reasons.
Kiara narrowed her eyes, her voice clipped.
Kiara: That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Why you? Why are you suddenly so interested in working with us? You hate my mother, and you’ve barely looked at me since... you know?
Thandeka’s smirk faltered, just a fraction. Her fingers grazed the edge of the chair’s armrest, tracing invisible patterns.
Thandeka: Because it makes sense. Strategically.
Kiara scoffed, taking a step closer.
Kiara: That’s your answer? Strategy? Come on, Thandeka, cut the crap. Is this about us? About…
She waved her hand vaguely, her tone biting
Kiara: whatever that was?
Thandeka’s gaze darkened, her composure cracking just enough for a flicker of emotion to show—hurt, anger, something more complicated.
Thandeka: I’m over that. You made it clear how you felt back then. I’m not here to rehash old mistakes.
Kiara let out a sharp laugh.
Kiara: Mistakes? Is that what you’re calling it now? I didn’t think you’d gotten so good at rewriting history
.
Thandeka’s fingers curled into a fist on the armrest, then relaxed as she let out a slow, steadying breath.
Thandeka: I said I’m over it, Kiara. If you can’t let it go, that’s on you.
For a moment, the air between them grew heavy, their past hanging like a storm cloud ready to burst. Then Thandeka’s expression shifted—cool and detached again, but her eyes lingered on Kiara, searching for something.
Thandeka: I got a weird message last night.
Kiara’s heart jolted, but her face stayed impassive.
Kiara: Weird how?
Thandeka pulled her phone from her pocket and held it out, the screen showing a screenshot of the message.
Thandeka: Anonymous account. Called ‘thewatcher.’ Said they know what happened four years ago. Sounded threatening.
Kiara’s throat tightened, but she kept her expression cool, her arms still crossed as if shielding herself from the weight of Thandeka’s words.
Kiara: Probably some troll. You’re used to that, aren’t you? Comes with being a Zuma.
Thandeka didn’t laugh. Instead, she studied Kiara’s face like she was solving a riddle.
Thandeka: Do you think it’s about… that?
The tension in the room thickened, the unspoken memory hanging between them like a ghost. Kiara shifted her weight, her nails digging into her palms.
Kiara: It doesn’t matter. Whatever happened back then—it’s over. Nobody cares anymore.
Thandeka still watched her.
Thandeka: Don’t they?
For a moment, Kiara thought Thandeka might press the issue further, but then she leaned back in the chair, breaking eye contact.
Thandeka: It’s funny, isn’t it? How something that feels so buried can still claw its way back up when you least expect it.
Kiara’s voice turned sharp, almost defensive.
Kiara: That’s enough, Thandeka.
Thandeka didn’t reply immediately. She looked down at her phone again, her thumb hovering over the screen. When she spoke, her voice was quieter, more deliberate.
Thandeka: I wonder who sent it. And why now, after all this time.
Kiara’s jaw clenched, but she forced herself to relax, letting out a soft, dismissive laugh.
Kiara: Like I said, probably a troll. Forget it.
Thandeka looked up, her eyes piercing.
Thandeka: Can you?
Kiara didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to the window, her reflection staring back at her—a mask of calm over the cracks threatening to show. Behind her, Thandeka stood, the chair scraping lightly against the floor as she pushed it back.
Thandeka: I’ll let you know what my parents think about the collaboration.
Kiara didn’t turn.
Kiara: You do that.
Thandeka hesitated for a fraction of a second before walking to the door.
Thandeka: For what it’s worth, Kiara… I didn’t send the message.
Kiara finally turned, her face unreadable.
Kiara: I didn’t say you did.
Thandeka left without another word, the sound of her heels fading down the hallway. Kiara stayed by the window, staring out at the sprawling estate below. Her reflection in the glass was shadowed now, the light behind her dimming.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as her fingers curled into fists at her sides. She wanted to believe her own words, wanted to dismiss it all as a bad prank. But the gnawing unease in her chest refused to leave.
Kiara (to herself): Nobody cares anymore… right?
The faint tremor in her voice betrayed her. Deep down, she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Thandeka—or herself.
THAT LATE EVENING
THE JACK RESIDENCE
Masi paced the length of her room, the sound of her bare feet muffled against the plush cream carpet. Her sleek, minimalist space, normally a sanctuary of calm, now felt like a prison. The walls seemed to close in with every passing minute. She clutched her phone tightly, her knuckles white, her thumb hovering over the message that had been tormenting her since it arrived earlier in the evening.
Her breathing was shallow, her thoughts racing in chaotic circles. The words on the screen replayed in her mind like a sinister mantra:
"I know what you did. You can’t bury the past forever."
The message was signed with the same name as before—thewatcher.
Masi: Who the hell are you?
Her voice cracked as she whispered the question aloud, but the empty room offered no answers. She threw her phone onto the bed and ran her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots as if the pain might ground her spiraling thoughts.
Masi: This can’t be happening. Not now. Not after everything.
The sharp ping of a notification shattered the tense silence, and Masi froze. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs as she slowly turned to look at her phone. The screen glowed ominously in the dim light.
Another message.
"Tick tock, Masi. Time’s running out. The truth will come out, one way or another. Sleep tight."
She grabbed the phone, her hands trembling so badly she nearly dropped it. Her pulse roared in her ears as she read and reread the words, each one a dagger slicing through her composure.
Masi: No… no, no, no.
Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the edge of the bed, her breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. She pressed the phone to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut as tears threatened to spill.
Masi: (through gritted teeth) Who are you? What do you want from me?
Her thoughts raced to the others. Did they know? Were they getting these messages too? What if they thought she had slipped up, let something slip? No. She had to act, and fast.
She opened their group chat, her fingers shaking as she typed furiously:
"SOS. "
"We need to talk. Now. Someone’s playing games, and it’s bad. REALLY bad."
She hovered over the send button for a moment, her chest tightening with a wave of doubt. Would they even respond? Would they believe her?
Without another second to doubt anything, she clicked the button and rushed to her closet to grab something to wear before rushing out of her room.