Holiday Hideaway: A Luxe Noir Christmas

By Unoma Nwankwor

 

Afro Gospel R&B sensation Abieyuwa 'Yuwa' Osagie, in dire need of a break this Christmas, seizes the opportunity for a quiet hideaway at her brother's newly purchased American home before working on her new album. Star center back, Xander 'D Shield' Mitchell, dealing with unwanted negative publicity, longs for a respite before joining his new football club in the coming year.

Unbeknownst to them, both Yuwa and Xander find themselves in the small tranquil, coastal town of Luxe Noir, seeking solace and rejuvenation. Through chance encounters, shared laughter, and the enchantment of the Christmas season, a deep connection blooms between them on their unexpected hideaway.
Yet, as the holiday season draws to a close, they must confront a pivotal decision. Will they kindle a genuine romance, conquering the challenges of fame and distance, or will they walk their separate paths while cherishing the memories of their unforgettable Holiday Hideaway?

• Language: English
• Publisher: KevStel Productions and Publications
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223187042

Book preview

1

ABIEYUWA YUWA OSAGIE

Closing my eyes for a moment, I drew in a deep breath. My fingers glided across the sleek edges of my guitar as I allowed the electricity of the atmosphere to envelop me. Sending a quick prayer to the Giver of all Gifts, I listened as the host of the Graceful Sounds Revival introduced me.

Okay, okay, we’ve finally arrived at the moment you’ve been waiting for. Our special guest for the evening is about to grace the stage. She’s the reason I know most of you are here tonight. Two-time Harmony Awards winner, six-time Spirit Award winner. She has sold hundreds of thousands of albums worldwide and has millions of streams on Spotify. Her latest single, Heavenly Things has spent the last ten weeks in the number one spot on the Afro Gospel Charts. Here to perform a melody of her songs including her hit single, ladies and gentlemen, give it up and welcome to the stage…Africa’s R&B Afro-Gospel Princess…Yuwa!!!

I glanced at Yetunde Phillips, my manager, who stood a little distance away talking to my assistant, Kay. Yetty, as most of her clients called her, met my eyes. She nodded, encouraging me, because she knew I needed it. This was it—my final show of the year, the last public appearance before the Christmas break. The weight of the moment settled upon my shoulders, but I welcomed it with open arms.

The crowd’s murmurs hushed as the stage lights dimmed, casting a soft, ethereal glow upon the arena. The silence held its breath, as if the world outside had ceased to exist, and in that suspended moment, I knew I’d come full circle. This arena in Senegal was where it all began eight years ago. Where I won The Next World Star competition and later got signed to a record label.

I stepped into the spotlight, and a wave of applause washed over me like a warm, comforting embrace. I smiled, a bittersweet mixture of gratitude and melancholy. I hadn’t slept in my own bed for two nights in a row in almost five months and I was ready for it to be over. This was the final leg of a tour that took me all over Africa. Yetty was still working on the logistics and feasibility of the European/American leg of the tour, but for now, I was all sung out.

My fingers danced across the strings of my guitar. Hey everyone! We ready to do this?

Let’s praise, the crowd screamed in response.

It was the way I started all my performances. I strummed the strings of the guitar, adjusted my microphone, and looked back at my band. I began my set. Over the next forty-five minutes, I sang a medley of songs from my first two studio albums, then two songs from my EP. I let myself get lost in the melody as the crowd sang along, stomped their feet, clapped, and screamed. As the last verse of my current song ended, I walked to the end of the stage. Taking off my guitar, I handed it to one of the stagehands who gave me a red Christmas hat in exchange. The screams grew louder as I wore the hat and strolled back to the center of the stage.

You guys have been so amazing tonight…

We love you!!

Turning to my right where I thought the voice came from, I pointed in that general area and returned the sentiment.

"One ordinary day, I was lounging at home doing absolutely nothing. These words came to me from Zechariah 9:9. I read the verse earlier that week, but thought nothing else of it, but then, the words… ‘rejoice, your King is coming to you’ kept turning in my mind.

I wrote down some words, and the rest is now history. The love you guys have shown this song continues to blow my mind. If you know the words, sing along with me. Ladies and gentlemen, ‘Heavenly Things’.

The opening chords of my popular song filled the air, and my voice joined in, soaring like a bird set free.

"With grace and love, He comes to heal,

The broken hearts, the wounds to seal.

Rejoice greatly, let your praises soar,

For the King of kings, we all adore.

On a donkey, gentle, He draws near,

Bringing hope, dispelling every fear."

My gaze swept over the audience as I sang, feeling that warm, familiar but humbling connection. Each note and word carried a piece of my soul, a reminder of how much God loved us that He sacrificed His son, Jesus. The crowd swayed to the rhythm, their faces lit by the glow of their phones, capturing the moment. I sang the second verse then the chorus, and the place was electrified.

"Oh, rejoice, let your voices sing,

The Savior's birth, a heavenly thing.

Rejoice, O daughter of Zion, see,

In Bethlehem's manger, our hope set free."

I sang the third verse then the chorus again. As the final notes of the song lingered in the air, the arena erupted in applause once more. I bowed, tears glistening in my eyes, and whispered a silent, thank You to Jesus for this gift of music and connection.

You’ve been an amazing audience. In three weeks, we’ll celebrate Christmas. Take time out to spend with your loved ones and meditate on the meaning of the season. Good night. I lifted my clasped hands and waved goodbye before exiting the stage.

That was fantastic…as usual. Yetty walked up to me.

Thank you.

Kay handed me a clean towel and a bottle of water. I thanked her, dabbed my face, and unscrewed the cap of the bottle.

I know you wanted to call it a night—

Oh no, Yetty. Please I need to sleep.

The label has already moved mountains to have Itohan Ikimi from Hans Shots meet you here for your photoshoot tomorrow. Do you know how much she charged to fly here?

I grunted.

With my bodyguard in tow, we passed through the underground entrance. Mrs. Ikimi was the best celebrity photographer out there, but then again, it was the label that couldn’t wait until the new year when I’d be back in Nigeria to get the shoot done. Itohan lived in the US, but was in Nigeria for the holidays. The label wanted the shoot so bad that they didn’t even check if I’d be in Nigeria. So, they paid her extra to fly to Dakar.

I get that, but—

Abi… I’m trying to get a bigger budget for our European and American tour dates. Please, I need you to meet the execs halfway, she pleaded.

My full name was Abieyuwa, and I used the last part of it as my stage name while those close to me used the first part of it.

We stepped outside into the cool Dakar evening and walked the short distance to the waiting SUV.

Okay, tomorrow is settled. For tonight, all you have to do is attend this gala with a few big-name preachers. Mingle for a bit, shake a few hands and I’ll get you out of there, Yetty said.

One hour. I’m serious, one hour.

One and a half. Trust me.

I did trust her. She started managing me after the manager I was assigned after the competition was a colossal failure. She hadn’t steered me wrong since. Even negotiating my signing to New Sounds Records. The label co-owned by mega-producer Kojo ‘Keyz’ Sarbah. It had only been up for me since then. Obviously, she took her commission, but everything she’d done was in my best interest. Although she was four years older than me, I considered her a friend.

After agreeing, she explained that I had one hour to unwind, and then a hair stylist, wardrobe and makeup would be in my hotel room. Closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the leather seat, I listened as Yetty rattled off instructions to Kay.

Two more days. It’s almost here…rest.

In two days, I’d be on a plane heading to be with my brother in America and I couldn’t wait. This Christmas break was well deserved, and I planned on enjoying every moment of it. I’d be back on that stage, sharing my heart through song, because music was the language of my soul, but for now, I was gonna do like Jesus did…rest.

You know that this is the third Christmas in a row you haven’t spent at home? Tiosa, my sister, asked.

I glanced at my iPad that was propped up against the pillow and shook my head. My siblings and I were close. My brother, Idemudia, was the oldest and lived in America. He was doing well for himself as a forensic accountant. Tiosa was the baby of the house and recently got a job as a nurse after graduating from nursing school in London. Much to my parents’ chagrin, it took her a while to figure out that content creation for YouTube wasn’t her ministry. She would start her new job in London next year, but for now she was spending the holidays with our parents in Benin.

You forgot that those Christmases I was working, and I flew you and the parentals out to be with me.

As I listened to my sister make her case about why it was unfair for her older siblings to leave her alone with hosting duties for our parents, I put the last piece of clothing in my suitcase. Earlier, I had the photoshoot which lasted longer than expected. Itohan was so patient because I know I got on her nerves.

The night before, instead of the ninety minutes Yetty promised, we ended up staying at the gala for three hours. Nobody could blame me for almost missing the photo shoot this morning. Anyway, we got it done in time for Itohan to catch her flight back to Nigeria to be with her family.

From there, Kay, Yetty and I went to Melo for brunch. After going over some plans for the first quarter of the new year, the ladies made their way to the airport headed to Nigeria to be with their families. Once they left, accompanied by my bodyguard, I went to a few boutiques and bought a few pieces for my time away. Yuwa, the internationally known gospel artist was out, and Abi the twenty-eight-year-old introvert was in. The clothes I bought reflected that switch.

Since I can tell you’re not listen—

"Ti, I’m performing a solo at the New Year’s Eve service in our church in Benin. Then back in Lagos, I’m in the lineup for the annual Symphony of Fresh Starts Concert. I’m not running