Maya sat on her bed, scrolling through her Instagram DMs. She paused, blinking at a new message request. It was from someone named Henry.
"Hey, I heard about your art," he wrote. "Could you draw something special for me?"
Her fingers hovered over the reply button. It felt like a little thrill every time a new commission popped up.
She quickly typed back, "What do you have in mind?"
A moment later, his message came through:
"I'm planning to propose to my girlfriend, Intan, near Bundaran HI. Could you capture that for us? We've been together two years, and I want something special to remember it."
Maya's eyes widened. A proposal? That's next level. She usually got orders for family outings or random public moments, but this would definitely stand out. She agreed, setting the price at 250,000 rupiahs, and confirmed the time and place with him. After she closed her phone, she lay back, thinking about the scene she'd be drawing. Capturing those real emotions as they happened? This would be intense.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bundaran Hotel Indonesia, Jakarta.
The weekend buzzed with its usual vibe, the fountain gushing in the middle, surrounded by bustling crowds and flashing cameras. Street vendors, families on outings, tourists with selfie sticks, and bikers rolled past.
Maya found a spot where she could watch the scene without standing out, her digital sketch notebook balanced on her knee, pencils ready.
She had a good view of Henry and Intan by the fountain.
Henry looked nervous, glancing at her every few seconds, hands slipping in and out of his pocket. He's probably feeling the ring over and over, making sure it's there, she thought, a little smile playing on her lips. Meanwhile, Intan was oblivious, laughing at something, eyes sparkling under the city lights.
Maya leaned in, sketching fast but careful, every line flowing with intention. Henry's tense shoulders, his uncertain glances. Intan's open, joyful expression. She captured the light reflecting on the water, the way passersby looked distracted, caught up in their own moments. This was what she loved—telling a whole story without a single word.
Maya's hand flew over the paper, making small adjustments, details she wanted to bring out perfectly. She focused on Henry's hand reaching for Intan's, his fingers visibly trembling, the way he was trying to hide his excitement. She could almost feel his heartbeat, his breath catching in his throat as he prepared for the big moment.
Then there was Intan, leaning toward him, not knowing her whole life was about to change in a split second. What's she thinking? Maya wondered, as if she could enter her mind. She sketched the softness in Intan's face, her smile, her slightly tilted head—clueless to what was coming but fully present in the moment.
Around them, the street noise, the chaotic beauty of Bundaran HI, was background music in Maya's mind. She added the tiny details of the environment: kids laughing, a street vendor balancing plates, a young couple holding hands, oblivious to Henry and Intan's moment. Every bit of this scene is part of the memory they'll treasure, she thought.
It was rare to find people who wore their emotions so openly, and she wanted every part of it to shine through in her drawing. She even focused on the lines of tension around Henry's mouth, like he was holding back something big. They're perfect, Maya thought, a tiny warmth blooming in her chest as she poured herself into every line.
Finally, she added the last touches to her work. In her mind, she played out the next few seconds, imagining the joy in Intan's face when Henry would finally ask. Maybe they'll frame this and keep it forever, she thought, pressing her lips together in a quiet smile.
She took one last look at the scene in front of her, comparing it to the detailed world she'd created on her paper. It was almost identical, but somehow, her sketch had a life of its own—a story frozen in a single moment. As she packed her things, Maya felt a flicker of pride. For someone who never spoke out loud, her drawings spoke everything she needed to say.
--------------------------------End of Chapter 1------------------------------------