New File
Lunchtime arrived. Zaidan was startled to see Fathan sitting across from him. This particular Bro always showed up without warning. Zaidan almost choked, but luckily he had finished his drink before Fathan patted him on the shoulder.
“What are you doing here, Bro? Aren’t you working at Grandpa’s company?”
“You mean, did I become a cook here? Of course not. I’m just stopping by. I wanted to have lunch with you.”
“I’m already done.” Zaidan pointed to the empty plate in front of him.
“Wait, why didn’t you wait for me?” Fathan’s brow immediately furrowed.
“You didn’t say from the start that you wanted to eat together. This isn’t my fault, okay?”
“Fine, then. Keep me company while I eat.”
“Okay, okay. But Bro, the food at your restaurant is better, right? Why come here instead?”
“That’s not my restaurant!” Fathan insisted.
“I know. It’s Haidar’s restaurant. But you’re the CEO.”
“Since when does a CEO handle pots and pans? And work in a filthy kitchen, too?” Fathan shot back as he placed his order.
Zaidan smiled faintly and then put his mask back on. “There is one. You’re an example.”
Fathan pulled the mask off Zaidan’s face. “Don’t you feel suffocated wearing that all the time?”
“No. I’m used to it.”
“You’re really handsome...”
“You’re more handsome,” Zaidan quickly cut in.
Fathan chuckled. He always lost every argument when Zaidan was his opponent.
The young man sitting across from him didn’t wear a mask without a reason. When he was little, he fell while chasing a kite. Who had taught him to do that? Fathan. His chin split open and had to be stitched up. After that, he became self-conscious and got used to covering his face.
Besides that, Zaidan genuinely disliked being the center of attention. He had a handsome face, a prominent nose, and a strong jaw, along with a mole beneath his right eye. If he went out without a mask, people were bound to turn and stare.
His signature style since college had been glasses, a mask, a hat, and earbuds. His fortress against the outside world.
Aside from his family and his parents’ colleagues, Zaidan didn’t have many friends. Just like now. His world consisted only of Fathan. Fathan again, and Fathan again. Whether times were hard or happy, Fathan was the only person he had to share them with.
Fathan’s younger sister, Maryam, also rarely managed to get Zaidan to have a long conversation. Maryam always had plenty to talk about. But Zaidan always found a way to bring the conversation to a dead end.
“You proposed to a girl and didn’t tell me?”
Ugh, this conversation again. Zaidan wished he could simply disappear. It had only been a plan, and it had already been rejected. He was annoyed that the news had reached Fathan. That meant he had become a topic of conversation.
“So where is she? I want to see her. How pretty is she that she dared to reject you?”
Zaidan brushed Fathan’s outstretched hand away. “Forget it, Bro. Don’t bring up that girl again. If she isn’t your soul mate, what can you do?”
“I just want to see her.”
“You’re not allowed to look at a girl who isn’t your mahram,” Zaidan replied, folding his arms across his chest.
“Tsk. Typical Kyai’s grandson. Bring up girls for two seconds and you start talking about mahram.”
“As if you aren’t a Kyai’s grandson too!” Zaidan shot back.
Fathan immediately burst out laughing. They were talking about Kyai Rahmatullah. Hopefully, he wasn’t sneezing over at the boarding school.
“Come on, Dan. Tell me which girl she is?”
“She’s working.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“You said you were given her picture. Let me see it.”
“I already returned it,” Zaidan lied. In reality, the girl’s photograph was still lying there, worn and battered, on his desk at Grandma Lila’s house.
“Ugh, Dan, you’re no fun!” Fathan snapped.
“I’ve never been fun. That’s why you’re the only one who wants to be friends with me,” Zaidan replied flatly, without the slightest trace of sadness on his face.