That night, Yoyi felt like the world had stopped spinning. His gaze was glued to the television screen, which was broadcasting news of an accident. A gray-and-brown shirt, a white T-shirt, a red sport bike. All those clues pointed to one person: the tomboy who had captured his heart.
"Yanti, look! That's her bike!" Yoyi shouted, his voice hoarse and his heart pounding wildly.
Yanti turned around, her eyes widening as she realized the striking resemblance. Without thinking twice, Yoyi ran out of the rental place, not caring that he was wearing only a T-shirt and jeans. He had to make sure. He had to know the truth. Worry squeezed his throat.
He ran as fast as he could toward the accident site mentioned in the news. Anxiety gnawed at his heart, and his legs felt weak, but he forced himself onward. When he arrived at the scene, it was already crowded. Police tape had been put up, and several officers were busy dealing with the scattered wreckage. Yoyi pushed through the crowd, begging to see the victim, who had already been covered with a white sheet.
"Hey, don't go through!" a police officer stopped him firmly.
"Please, sir, I have to see!" Yoyi pleaded, his voice trembling. "She's... my friend."
The officer finally relented when he saw the desperation in Yoyi's eyes and allowed him to approach. Holding his breath, Yoyi moved toward the white sheet. His heart pounded hard, every beat booming in his ears. With trembling hands, he slowly pulled the sheet back from the victim's face.
And right then, Yoyi let out a long breath, relief flooding his entire body. The face he saw wasn't Jo's. It wasn't the tomboy who had saved him. Yoyi's heart felt utterly relieved. He didn't know the girl who had become the victim, but Yoyi was grateful that the girl he loved was still alive.
Yoyi returned to the rental place with a staggering gait, his emotions tangled between relief and exhaustion. His friends were already waiting on the porch, their anxious faces fixed on him with hopeful eyes.
"So?" Yanti asked, her voice full of worry.
"It wasn't her," Yoyi answered softly, his gaze vacant. "It wasn't the girl who helped me."
Yanto, Amira, Maria, and Malika all let out sighs of relief. They didn't cheer or celebrate. They were simply grateful—for Yoyi's sake. Even though they didn't know the girl who had been in the accident, they were relieved that Yoyi's first love hadn't met a tragic end. They realized Yoyi had changed, and they fully supported him.
For Yoyi's sake, they decided to find honest daytime work. Yanti, Amira, Maria, and Malika now worked as construction laborers. Though the work was exhausting and the pay barely enough, they did it for Yoyi. They wanted to prove they could rise above the stigma. They still worked as street performers at night, but their intentions were no longer the same. Performing for tips was no longer their destination, but a bridge to better work.
Yoyi also went out every night, but not to perform. He put on a dress, makeup, and breast padding again, hoping Jo would pass by and recognize him. Night after night, Yoyi waited at the intersection, wearing the same clothes he'd had on when they first met. He hoped Jo would pass by, see him, and recognize the Yoyi he used to be.
But he never met the girl again. He didn't know that Jo had only happened to pass by that night and stopped in for coffee. Yoyi didn't know he was waiting for someone who might never come back.
Despair began to envelop Yoyi. Night after night passed in vain as he sat in the same spot, his hope growing thinner and thinner. Yoyi finally realized something more important than finding that girl: he had to change, not for Jo, but for himself.
One night, after returning from the intersection, Yoyi decided he would no longer wear makeup or dresses. He wiped the makeup from his face, removed the padding from his chest, and sat in front of the mirror. Yoyi stared at his reflection—a man. In that moment, he realized he couldn't keep searching for Jo in his current form. Jo's promise, "Find me when you've repented, Bro," echoed in his mind. Yoyi realized he had to keep that promise, not only with words, but with action.
"What's wrong with you?" Maria asked, seeing Yoyi sitting silently in front of the mirror, looking serious and different from usual.
"I... I want to stop being a sissy," Yoyi said, his eyes fixed on his own reflection with blazing determination.
"Huh?" Maria was shocked. "Are you serious?"
"I can't look for her if I stay like this. I have to change. I have to become a real man, like she wants," Yoyi replied with absolute resolve, his voice firm.
His friends fell silent, digesting Yoyi's words. They saw the seriousness in his eyes. After a moment, Malika spoke up.
"You really want to change, Yi?" Malika asked. Yoyi nodded, reassuring her.
"I've got an idea," Malika continued, her eyes shining with excitement. "I know someone who runs a bodyguard training facility. That place can turn you into a real man."
"Bodyguard training?" Yoyi furrowed his brow, slightly startled by the idea.
"Yeah. You can learn martial arts there, they'll train your body, and they'll teach you how to become a tough man. It's perfect for you, Yi. It'll make you look even more badass," Malika said with an optimistic smile.
Yanti, Amira, and Maria nodded in agreement. "She's right, Yi. It's the best way. You have to become a complete man before you go looking for her again," Yanti said, giving him her full support.
Hearing his friends' encouragement, Yoyi felt his determination flare back to life. The road ahead wouldn't be easy. He would have to face doubt, mockery, and pain, too. But he didn't care. Yoyi was no longer alone. He had friends who supported him. He had a clear goal.
Yoyi smiled at the mirror in front of him. For now, he would stop searching for Jo and focus on himself, becoming the best version of who he could be. He would become a real man worthy of that girl. And once he was ready, he would search for her again—not as Yoyi the sissy, but as Satrio, a steadfast man full of hope.
A few weeks later, Yoyi arrived at the bodyguard training facility Malika had told him about. The chilly morning air greeted him, mingling with the smell of sweat and the fierce enthusiasm of the other trainees. Yoyi felt awkward among the muscular men with crew cuts and sharp eyes. He tried to imitate their mannerisms, but his movements were still too fluid, and his voice was still too soft.
"All right, everyone! Ten laps!" shouted the tall, broad-shouldered trainer, his booming voice shattering the morning air.
Yoyi tried to keep up, but he quickly ran out of breath. His legs felt heavy, as if weights were dragging them down. He fell far behind while several other trainees glanced at him with mocking smiles.
"Move it, sissy!" one of them shouted, drawing laughter from the others.