Jakarta's afternoon sky hung overhead, heavy with silvery clouds.
The air felt humid and warm, signaling that a downpour could come at any moment.
Rian was enjoying a glass of sweet iced tea at a small roadside stall while checking his motorcycle's odometer when the phone clipped to his handlebar mount began vibrating violently.
It wasn't a new-order notification from his beloved green app, but a WhatsApp voice call from a new number he'd saved just three days ago under the name "Mbak Siska (Storm Hair)."
Rian swiped the green button and pressed the phone to his ear.
"Hello, Mas Rian! SOS! Please help me!" Siska's voice rang shrilly through the phone, panic mixed with quick, ragged breaths.
"What's wrong, Mbak Siska? Don't tell me you just got your hair blown out again?" Rian teased casually, trying to defuse the commotion on the other end.
"It's not just my hair, Mas! This is a matter of life and death for my career!" Siska cried dramatically.
"I'm in Kemang after accompanying a client to a clothing fitting. And in thirty-five minutes, I have to be at an office building in Sudirman to deliver the contract documents for an important event.
"The main road is completely jammed, and the taxi I've been riding in has barely moved an inch! I just got out on the sidewalk. Where are you, Mas Rian? Can you pick me up?"
Rian glanced at the watch on his wrist. 4:40 p.m. Navigating the route from Kemang to Sudirman during the dangerous rush-hour commute in less than forty minutes would be a major challenge.
But Siska's pleading voice sounded so innocent—and so desperately in need of help—that Rian couldn't bring himself to refuse.
"I'm about ten minutes from your location. Send me your live location now. But remember our deal, Mbak Siska," Rian replied, reminding her.
"Yes, yes! Helmet ready to go on! I've got a special strategy today!" Siska answered quickly before ending the call.
Without wasting any time, Rian finished his iced tea, put on his helmet, and started the motorcycle.
Rian's skill at navigating South Jakarta's backstreets was his greatest asset.
Just eight minutes later, he reached the location Siska had sent him—in front of a trendy coffee shop in Kemang.
Siska was already standing there waiting anxiously. That afternoon, she looked incredibly elegant in a maroon blazer and straight-cut black slacks.
But there was one thing that nearly made Rian burst out laughing when he stopped his motorcycle right in front of her.
Siska had wrapped an abstract-patterned silk scarf all around her head, creating an enormous, perfectly neat turban that completely covered every strand of hair she'd had styled straight with waves at the ends that day.
Large sunglasses perched on her nose, completing the eccentric yet fashionable look.
"Are you getting on the motorcycle, Mbak Siska, or are you joining a carnival?" Rian teased as he held out a green passenger helmet to her.
Siska pouted behind her sunglasses, then snatched the helmet from Rian's hand.
"This is called a High-Level Hair Protection Structure, Mas Rian! This silk scarf is super smooth, so it won't pull my hair or flatten it from rubbing against the helmet padding. Now stop laughing! Come on, move! We've only got twenty-five minutes left!"
To Rian's surprise, Siska deftly put the helmet on over her silk scarf.
The helmet clasp clicked loudly and firmly. Siska immediately climbed onto the back seat with practiced ease.
"Hold on tight, Mbak. I'm going to do a little maneuvering," Rian warned as he lowered his own helmet visor.
"Ready, Captain! This time I'm safe and following the rules!" Siska called enthusiastically from behind Rian.
Rian twisted the throttle. His scooter shot forward, cutting through the dense traffic. His skill as an experienced driver was truly put to the test that afternoon.
He slipped through the gaps between the long lines of cars!