“Good evening, Serena, darling,” Harlette greeted her as her best friend's apartment door opened. She walked in first like she owned the place. “Are you writing a novel?”
“Just finished. What brings you here so late?”
“So many dresses to deal with. Exhausting. I think my mother was too careless accepting so many clients without thinking it through first. Her excuse is that they're acquaintances, so she feels bad turning them down. It's so frustrating.”
Harlette sat down on the sofa with a sigh. Her thoughts drifted for a moment beneath the chandelier lighting the room.
Show your face and I'll be yours. The sentence had haunted her all day. Harlette had bitten her nails several times, typed the words into her phone, deleted them, and reconsidered until she nearly felt her head explode. She hadn't expected Dimitriv to respond to an anonymous message like that in the middle of his busy schedule.
Harlette's nose caught a delicious aroma, instantly snapping her out of her daze. She went to the kitchen to follow the scent that made her stomach growl. She nearly fainted there, unable to withstand the sight of such delicious food.
“This is my favorite.” Harlette leaned her nose toward the wok while closing her eyes.
“If only Morana could come too, but she's busy filming her new movie.”
“Yeah, I always miss our get-togethers too,” Harlette said as she filled her small bowl with rice. “But I really don't like that guy named Sanja. He's so annoying.”
Serena set a plate of stir-fried oyster mushrooms in the middle of the table, letting Harlette scoop several spoonfuls onto her bowl. She filled two glasses with lemon tea. Thin lemon slices floated among the ice cubes. While waiting for Serena, Harlette absentmindedly stirred her rice.
“Ren?”
“Yeah?”
“I sent Mr. Dimitriv an anonymous message? And I never expected him to respond to me.”
Serena slowly slid a glass in front of Harlette, taking a moment to process that. “What kind of response? Was he annoyed, or did he tease you back?”
Harlette didn't explain. She handed over the phone she'd been carrying all this time. Her best friend checked it, but she looked relaxed and hardly surprised. Serena was a calm woman who didn't care much for drama.
“So what's your plan now?”
“Keep teasing him.” She laughed happily. “Ah, forget it. I already know what I'm going to do after eating this delicious food of yours. Bon appétit.”
The shredded oyster mushrooms were tender and wonderfully easy on the tongue. The savory flavor filling her mouth instantly cleared Harlette's mind. They really were right when they said to think on a full stomach—thousands of ideas would come rushing into your head.
After eating, she followed Serena to her bedroom. The woman sat at her vanity, brushing her long black hair. Meanwhile, Harlette lay on the bed with her phone hovering above her face, displaying Dimitriv's messages.
“How can I show who I really am? This could get dangerous. I just wanna play a game, have fun, and move on.” Harlette's thoughts whispered on their own.
Harlette sat up and accidentally caught her own reflection in the mirror, where she was meeting Serena's gaze. She toyed with her hair using her fingertips, then smiled faintly. Serena, who had just finished brushing her hair, watched Harlette in the reflection and grew a little suspicious.
Biting her lip slightly, Harlette opened her phone's camera and began aiming the lens at her face. But then she lowered it until it showed her long, pristine white neck. Bracing her left hand behind her, Harlette took several pictures of her neck.
Serena merely watched her madness from the vanity chair, sitting with her legs crossed and her arms folded.
Harlette began sorting through the neck photos she'd just taken, choosing the best one. A faint smile appeared on her face as she typed something to accompany the photo she sent to Dimitriv.
“Are you happy?” Serena asked after watching her for a long while.
“Very!” Harlette exclaimed before lying back down on the bed, her heart fluttering.
Dimitriv sat in the sitting room with his father, accompanied by a cup of coffee and classical music so soothing it was a pleasure to listen to. Wijaya and Dimitriv often spent time there discussing work matters, business plans, and agreements between the two of them.
“I think BigDeals Construction is just playing games with us. The condition for working together was getting approval from Mr. X, but that crazy man is impossible to meet.”
Wijaya inhaled the wafting coffee aroma. “Didn't you say you'd ask your friend who owns that real estate company for help?” he said as he set his coffee cup down.
“I did. He tried to help me, but it didn't work at all.” Dimitriv narrowed his eyes slightly before asking again, “You don't know who Mr. X is either, do you, Dad?”
“BigDeals is owned by an acquaintance of mine, but I have no idea who Mr. X is. That mysterious person must have a great deal of influence there.”
Dimitriv stopped listening halfway through his father's sentence. He had received a message he'd been waiting for all night. The corner of his mouth lifted and one eyebrow rose as he enjoyed the photo sent by the unfamiliar number.
“If I show myself, will you kiss me?” That was the caption Harlette had written along with the photo.
“I'll kiss you hard, leaving traces all over your beautiful neck,” Dimitriv replied boldly.
“Your words come so easily. What if your future wife finds out?”
“She wouldn't care either. Besides, this is just a game, right? You invited me to play, and I'm only joining in.”
His attention was completely consumed, his gaze fixed deeply on the photo without wavering. Even his father's voice had become a faint backtrack that never reached his mind. His fingers were busy enlarging the picture of that neck and dragging it from side to side. Dimitriv had no intention of stopping until a shout made him blink.
“Rayne!” Wijaya roared, his face flushed with heat. “Are you ignoring your father?”
Dimitriv stammered. He was about to slip his phone into his pocket, but Wijaya stood and moved swiftly toward him. He snatched Dimitriv's phone and threw it in one direction, where it came to a stop in front of a pair of red-soled leather shoes.
They both turned toward them.
“Dad, that's childish,” Raiden commented, having suddenly appeared at the house.
“How dare you comment on me,” Wijaya hissed, his eyes widening slightly.
“Sorry, Dad. That's not what I meant. It's just that Rayne isn't a child who—” Raiden lowered his voice and chose to give in.
Before Raiden could finish, Wijaya stormed away, irritated that no one had been listening to him at all. Raiden picked up Dimitriv's phone and handed it to his brother.
“It's unusual for you to come this late.”
“Ah,” Raiden said, suddenly remembering. He handed over the small box in his hand and said, “My wife made you an aromatherapy candle when I told her you've been having trouble sleeping every night.”
Dimitriv accepted it happily and placed it on the glass table, beside the two cups of coffee.
“How are you doing?” Raiden asked.
“As you can see.”
“That project must be weighing on you, especially since Dad entrusted you with making that deal. Even though it's obviously his responsibility. He really is…”
“Crazy.” Dimitriv finished the deliberately unfinished sentence. “You know Dad's always been that crazy. Luckily, we didn't turn out crazy like him.”
While they were deep in conversation, their three younger siblings arrived and sat on the sofa across from them, eyeing Raiden suspiciously. They clearly didn't like having him in the house.
“I was only stopping by for a moment,” Raiden said. He realized his position. The man then stood and gave Dimitriv a small smile as a farewell.
When Seara saw the small box on the table, her eyes lit up happily upon realizing it was a gift. She picked it up and was about to open it, but Dimitriv immediately snatched it back, leaving his sister looking disgruntled. Seara shouted that she wanted to see the box, but Dimitriv acted as though he no longer cared.
“Ugh, you're annoying. If only Luna were here. She'd definitely give it to me,” Seara grumbled.
“Because you're naughty,” Ryland teased, stroking the crown of his sister's head.
Seara swatted away his presumptuous hand. “We're all naughty because Dad's DNA has proven it.” She sauntered away after saying that. Self-awareness was important.
That left Ryland and Matheo in the room. They were waiting for the right moment—until their father stopped coming out of his room—so they could go out to have fun at a club, then come home as if nothing had happened.
In his room, Dimitriv immediately opened the chocolate-colored box and took out its contents. Several flower petals were trapped atop the candle, which had already hardened. Once lit, its calming fragrance would spread throughout the room. Raiden's wife really did love creating things with her beautiful hands.
He placed the glass containing the candle on the nightstand, right beside the small bottle of sleeping pills he swallowed every night so he could sleep soundly.
Distracted by the earlier problem, Dimitriv had completely forgotten to reply to the message from the unknown number. The man looked at the photo again and smiled faintly.
“It'll be a lot of fun. And we'll have a hot night.”
“Yes, I guarantee it,” Dimitriv replied after leaving the message unanswered for quite some time.
At the same time, a message came in from Violette, asking him to do something she'd begged him to do the other day at the apartment. But instead of reading it, Dimitriv immediately ignored the message so he could continue texting his secret admirer.
People must carry pain inside them, holding it so tightly that it becomes hard to breathe. Then, when they can't take it anymore, they simply cry, or sit in silence like someone mute who has lost their way. Yet pain is only an illusion. Let it go. Ignore it, because it doesn't matter. Seek happiness, or relax and wait for it to come on its own.
That was what happened to Dimitriv. Something had come to him that made him forget the pain residing comfortably inside him. Now he felt a little happy, as though the world were cheering for him. He didn't know who the person on the other end was, yet for some reason, he was so happy.
Dimitriv glanced toward the nightstand and saw the candle Raiden had given him. His hand lowered to open the drawer while his body remained sprawled on the bed. Those strong fingers felt along the bottom of the drawer and found a box-shaped metal lighter, cold to the touch.
Dimitriv lit the candle. Afterward, he also took the medication prescribed by his psychiatrist and returned to his anonymous messages, which kept wearing down his courage.
At 3:33 a.m., Serena woke up and looked around with sleepy, narrowed eyes. But Harlette, whom she was searching for, was nowhere to be found. She went to check the living room, and there Harlette was, asleep haphazardly on the sofa.
About three hours later, when sunlight was already pouring through the apartment windows, Harlette writhed like a worm emerging from the earth. The first thing she did was look for her phone. She scrolled up through the messages and discovered that they had exchanged an incredible number of texts the night before.
First thing in the morning, her nose was immediately hit by the aroma of Serena's cooking. Her best friend really did prefer cooking to buying food; she said cooking was fun. To Harlette, though, it was obviously a hassle. She would much rather be sent around the world with a camera to photograph every noteworthy spot than spend an hour standing in a kitchen cooking.
“Didn't you come here to cut the fabric for your dress?”
“Right, but Mr. Dimitriv seemed to be teasing me yesterday.”
“You even forgot to sleep in the bedroom. You didn't even close the curtain behind you.”
Harlette grinned. “I was too busy texting that man back.” She stood beside Serena. “By the way, what are you cooking today?”
Serena pushed her away. “Go shower first, hurry, or I'll eat all this food myself.”
“Okay, got it,” she said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.
Harlette immediately obeyed so she could get her share of the black pepper beef slices. She never felt awkward in this place. They had once been embroiled in a cold war over something, but apparently friendships seasoned with conflict lasted longer. Sometimes she even felt jealous of Serena, whose life was so free—living in Jakarta far from the watchful eyes of her noisy parents.
“Where were you that you didn't come home last night?” Miranti stood with her arms crossed and a sharp look in her eyes.
“Serena's apartment.”
“Then why didn't you tell me? I called you last night, but you didn't answer.”
Of course she hadn't. She'd chosen to text Dimitriv instead.
“Sorry, Mom. I fell asleep.”
Miranti sighed irritably. “That's just an excuse. Hurry up and change. You're coming with me today.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere.”
The young woman huffed in annoyance. Though she climbed the stairs to the second floor to change, she did so with heavy, reluctant steps. She hated being taken places. She preferred going out alone and following Dimitriv's activities.
While she was busy choosing an outfit, her phone rang—not once, but several times. Harlette snatched up the device as quickly as possible and smiled excitedly when she read Dimitriv's message.
“Have fun today. We'll continue tonight.”
Harlette's grin widened instantly, and she couldn't stop smiling at her phone.
“What a sweet man,” she murmured.
“Harlette, I'm waiting for you,” Violette said as she opened the bedroom door.
Her younger sister immediately stopped smiling and tossed her phone behind her, where it landed safely on the bed.
“Why are you smiling to yourself?” Violette asked. “Is it because of Noah?”
“Noah? He's already out of my life. Now my life is just me and the things I enjoy.” Harlette stepped into the walk-in closet, leaving her sister's presence behind. “Enjoying the last days before I live a life full of tears, or death,” Harlette murmured casually as she held an outfit against her body and checked herself in the mirror to make sure it suited her.
Today, everyone's life proceeded as usual. Some surrendered themselves to God's plan, while others had already journaled that morning to decide what they needed to do. Still others were too lazy to live their lives. Harlette belonged to the third category, as usual; matters concerning Dimitriv occupied her mind far more than dealing with work.
It wasn't that she didn't love her work. Let me say it again: Harlette simply left more room in her head for Dimitriv.
Harlette was bored all day waiting for night to come. At one point, she joked that she wanted to become a witch who could change everything with one twist of her wand. She waited for the man to contact her. It was dangerous, but that was exactly what made the challenge so thrilling.
“Waiting for me all day?”
At last, the message arrived.
“Of course. Where have you been?”
“Miss me that much? Or just a little?”
“THAT MUCH!” Harlette replied irritably.
“Show yourself to me, then hug me as much as you want if you really miss me.”
But Harlette didn't reply. That prompted Dimitriv to send several more messages.
“Didn't you say you missed me that much? Love me? Was that all a lie?”
Harlette bit her fingernail, then lightly bit her lip instead. She felt flushed and shivery as she read this brazen message. It would take even more blazing courage to answer it.
“Find me, then catch me, Mr. Dimitriv.”
In his office, Dimitriv felt challenged after reading the message. He slowly rubbed his chin with his fingertip while staring deeply at the words. What a daring secret admirer. He liked her courage.
But should Dimitriv actually do it?
When playing a game, some people enjoy it as nothing more than brief entertainment, while others are determined to win. Dimitriv was still somewhere in the gray area, unsure which group he belonged to.
On the one hand, Harlette wanted to delete the message she'd just sent. It was so brazen. Especially when Dimitriv left her hanging instead of replying right away. Harlette raised a palm to her forehead, which felt slightly warm. That nervous heat swept through her body as she grumbled irritably about why Dimitriv still hadn't replied.
People were paradoxical. They started things for pleasure, but when that pleasure began flowing on its own, they grew afraid and wanted to stop what they'd begun. Insane.