Dewi and Putri settled at a corner table in the cafeteria, the remnants of Dewi's earlier conversation with Farhan lingering like discarded napkins. Putri leaned forward, her tone crisp yet laced with the practiced neutrality of someone who'd long mastered the art of transactional empathy.
"So," Putri began, stirring her iced tea, "you and Sebastian. The whole campus is whispering. What's really going on?"
Dewi's fingers tightened around her coffee cup. "It's… complicated. I can't—I mean, there's a lot of mis—" She bit her tongue, the word mission teetering dangerously.
"Mis…?" Putri arched a brow.
"Misleading," Dewi blurted. "People keep… twisting things. You know how rumors are."
Putri's gaze sharpened. "Rumors? Or regrets?" She set her spoon down with a clink. "Look, as someone who's watched you two since freshman year—fix this. Talk. Privately. You were unstoppable together."
Dewi stared at her latte foam, the lie sour on her tongue. Unstoppable? Not with Emeka's secrets clawing at my conscience.
"I'm not saying forgive him overnight," Putri added, rising to leave. "But this silence? It's rotting everything. Even Rian's exhausted."
Dewi flinched. Rian. Always the collateral damage in their unraveling.
"Got it," she muttered, though the words felt hollow.
Putri lingered, her voice softening. "For what it's worth? The Dewi I knew would've fought like hell for her best friend."
Then she was gone, her heels clicking toward the exit.
Dewi sat alone, the cafeteria's chatter swelling around her. Fought like hell? She almost laughed. If only Putri knew how much she was fighting—just not for the right side.
—
Sebastian returned, plastic bag rustling with snacks, to find Rian slumped on the couch, arms crossed and jaw clenched—a storm cloud in human form.
"Hungry? I got chili chips, those seaweed ones you like—" Sebastian rattled the bag playfully.
"Not hungry."
"C'mon, just one?" Sebastian plucked a potato crisp and aimed it at Rian's mouth like a mother coaxing a toddler. "Open up!"
Rian clamped his lips shut, turning away.
"Babe, what's wrong?" Sebastian dropped the bag, frown deepening. "You were all I'll walk you to the snack stall an hour ago."
"Who was she?" The words burst out, raw and jagged.
Sebastian blinked. "You… followed me?"
"Who. Was. She?"
A laugh escaped Sebastian—nervous, relieved. "That was Ela. My elementary school best friend. She moved to Jakarta a decade ago. Just accidentally met into her today. That's all."
Rian's shoulders stayed rigid.
Sebastian knelt, voice softening. "Rian. Look at me. I'm gay. Not bi, not curious. Gay. You're the only person I want to force-feed potato chips to."
The dam broke. Rian yanked him into a crushing hug, face buried in Sebastian's hoodie. "Don't leave," he mumbled, the words damp and fractured.
"Never." Sebastian pressed a kiss to his temple, lingering.
They stayed like that—Rian's grip desperate, Sebastian's thumbs tracing circles on his back—until the streetlights flickered on outside. Ten minutes. Twenty. Time dissolved.
When they finally pulled apart, Rian's cheeks were salt-streaked, Sebastian's hoodie damp. But the air between them had shifted—lighter, sweeter, the way dawn bleeds into morning.