It was a normal sunny day in Tangerang, Indonesia. The heat was relentless, the city was bustling with the sounds of cars and motorcycles, and the smell of sweat mixed with exhaust fumes permeated everywhere. Very normal indeed.
Yet here was our protagonist, stuck in the middle of it all in traffic. "Ha… when will this traffic end?" Enri muttered tiredly while looking ahead on his motorcycle.
An Evergreen truck had overturned on the main road, blocking three lanes, so traffic could only move in one direction at a time. Adding to the chaos, it was a day before a holiday, and the road was packed to the brim.
"Sir Holil is going to kill me..." Enri resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be late for work. He pulled out his phone to contact his squad leader but saw there was no signal.
"What? No signal?! Ha… and here I thought this day couldn't get any worse." Despairing over the future he could already foresee, he turned off his phone and focused on getting to work faster.
Because of this, he missed the emergency news alert that popped up on his screen.
"Finally, I'm here."
He arrived at the factory parking lot, which was completely packed with motorcycles, despite many employees living nearby. The factory itself wasn't that big; it was a cable factory with only 100 employees. There were three buildings: one for production, one for the warehouse, and one for the office.
Enri took off his helmet, uncovering his head that felt stuffy. His face was handsome, with a sharp jawline and beautiful slanted eyes, but it was mostly hidden under his unkempt hair.
He glanced at his watch and panicked when he saw that there were only three minutes left before 7 o'clock and he still hadn't scanned in for attendance.
He ran immediately, forgetting to remove the keys from his motorcycle and leaving them hanging there.
----
"Right, a slight briefing for today's work—" Outside the building, a group of gathered around a fierce-looking man in disarray. Some were sitting, others leaning against the building, and some were listening attentively.
"Yesterday, we got some complaints about the diameter of our cables. I hope the extruder team will focus more and follow the regulations. As for the others, keep up the good work, and always be careful." The fierce man looked around, confirming that everyone had gotten the message.
"Sir Holil, anything you want to add?" The fierce man stepped back, letting the man beside him take center stage. An older man in his forties, with a robust build and muscles that clearly showed his experience in the heavy industry, stepped forward. "Yes, I do. But before that, has anyone seen Enri?"
The man, named Holil, scanned the crowd but got no response. Suddenly, a young man in red clothes raised his hand and pointed behind Sir Holil, snickering, trying to hold in his laughter. There was Enri, running and panting, slowing down when he noticed everyone looking at him.
"...Am I late?"
Everyone burst into laughter, and Sir Holil pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off an impending headache. "Hurry up and scan in, then come back here," he instructed. Enri nodded and quickly scanned in, then returned to stand beside the man in red.
"Oh, Mr. 'I'm up at 4 a.m. to exercise' is late? What's the world coming to?" the man teased, jabbing Enri's side with his elbow.
"Ggh, screw off. I got too into analyzing yesterday's game and lost track of time."
"Mmhm, sure you did."
"Why do I feel like you definitely don't believe me?" Enri shot a glare at the guy in red.
In a factory where the average worker's age was over 30 and most were married, the guy in red was one of Enri's closest friends. They had started working there at the same time and were essentially friends of the same generation.
His name was Rackan Tourn, and like his personality, he had a mischievous appearance. He wore all kinds of accessories—earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. His cheerful, easygoing attitude made him popular in the factory. The two continued their light banter while simultaneously listening to Sir Holil.
"Is the coiling team fully gathered? Good, without further ado, I just want to address a few things. First, Enri." After Enri was called out, they stopped talking and looked ahead.
"Oh, shit, you got called out, dude!" Rackan whispered with a grin.
"And why the hell are you so happy?" Enri muttered, frowning as he tried to remember what he had done wrong last week.
"I'm sure I gave you all the necessary information for the job order, but the packing team says the cable lengths you coiled don't add up. Any explanation?" Sir Holil asked.
"Oh, that's because the printing distance on the cables wasn't exactly one meter—it was 1.10 meters. I confirmed that with the QC crew, so I cut it every 40.90 meters to match the order." Recalling the order from last Friday, when he had to coil 45 meters of cable, he explained the situation truthfully.
"And why wasn't I informed about this?"
"That's because…" Enri wanted to say that he didn't want to bother Sir Holil, who was already very busy, and that he had reported the issue to the QC team and thought it would be fine.
But he kept it to himself, knowing he was in the wrong. Seeing Enri's silence, Holil let him off with just a warning and moved on.
On his way into the factory, Enri saw two familiar people conversing seriously. One was taller than average, with a slim build, and the other was shorter but muscular.
They noticed Enri walking behind them, and the taller one asked, "First time seeing you late, Enri. What happened?"
"Oh, Sir Deron. Well, it's actually because—" Enri began. He addressed him as "Sir" out of respect, even though Deron looked young despite being in his early 40s and married with two kids.
Deron Dwindura was one of the first people to approach and talk to Enri when he started working. He had mentored Enri on parts of the machinery and how to fix them.
Despite being a caring man, Deron's stoic looks and flat tone of voice often gave people the impression that he was disinterested so it made them back away.
Although he was strict, he continuously taught Enri and Rackan everything he knew, whether it was about their jobs or life's difficulties. Enri quickly gave them a recap of his morning.
"Pfft—hahaha!" The shorter man, Wanton Regar, burst out laughing, holding his stomach.
"Hmm, usual Evergreen stuff. Don't take it too seriously; you were just unlucky," Deron said, trying to comfort Enri, knowing his habit of mulling over mistakes. But Deron's words only made Wanton laugh harder.
"Aren't you laughing a bit too much, Sir Wanton?" Enri asked, embarrassed.
"Sorry, my bad. It's just—the way Deron delivered those lines—pfft." Wanton finally calmed down.
"Well… if only I hadn't stayed up so late, maybe I wouldn't have been stuck in traffic and late," Enri said, a hint of self-blame in his voice.
"There you go again. Listen, Enri. Sure, you might be late, but if you hadn't watched and learned from yesterday's game, would your team have won?" Wanton's words made Enri think again. What he said was true, but Enri couldn't shake the feeling that if he had just woken up earlier, he wouldn't have been late.
"I bet you're thinking it's your fault again," Deron added, hitting the nail on the head. Enri jumped at the accuracy of the remark.
After making his point, Deron didn't push further and left, but not before saying, "Everything comes with a cost, and today's cost was you being late. It's not a reflection of your worth or ability."
"You've got to give yourself some grace, kid. Learn to forgive yourself for the things you can't control, or else you'll always be stuck in this cycle. We all make mistakes. What matters is how you choose to move forward."
Enri, left behind as Deron walked away, smiled and shook his head. "Another cringy line from Sir Deron, huh…" Although he made a joke of it, deep down, Enri felt grateful. The weight on his shoulders seemed a little lighter.
Although he may or may not have heard someone trying to hold back laughter nearby.