At some point, I wandered off, needing space from the crowd and the noise. I ended up at the bar, where a guy around my age was ordering a drink. He caught my eye and smiled—an easy, genuine smile that instantly put me at ease.
“And then I saw a man in a fur suit on the subway and thought I’d stepped into some freaky matrix.” Arjuna was his name and he chuckled, “And when I told a friend of mine wanna guess what he said?”
“Average Thursday morning in New York?” I guessed,
“Exactly and you could imagine my shock that it’s perfectly normal to be sitting next to a dude in a fox costume at nine in the morning.” He told me and I laughed. “This could never happen in Jakarta.”
“It might but all the aunties would post it on Facebook and demand answers and legal action!” I corrected.
“God you’re so easy to talk to. It’s so nice.” He sighed.
“Thanks.” I laughed, the sound bubbling out before I could stop it. “That sounds like every subway experience in New York. You’re officially initiated.”
He grinned, his teeth bright against his tanned skin. “Thanks. I’ll take my honorary New Yorker card now.”
I swirled the straw in my drink, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through me. “You said you’re studying architecture, right?”
“Yeah, at Columbia,” he said. “It’s… a lot. But I love it. There’s something so satisfying about creating something from nothing, you know?”
I nodded, surprised at how much I understood. “It’s like that with ballet, too. You take this blank stage and fill it with movement, with emotion. Sometimes it feels like magic.”
He tilted his head, studying me. “Do you feel that way now? Like it’s magic?”
The question caught me off guard, and I hesitated. “Not always,” I admitted. “Lately, it’s been more… suffocating than anything else.”
Arjuna’s expression softened. “That sounds hard. Do you ever think about walking away?”
The thought made my stomach twist, and I shook my head. “No. I couldn’t. It’s who I am, you know?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, nodding. “I get that.”
We fell into an easy rhythm after that, sharing stories about childhood, our families, the things we loved and hated about the city. He told me about growing up in Jakarta, about his younger siblings and how much he missed his mom’s cooking. I told him about Soleh, about the nights we stayed up late playing Sims and bickering over the smallest things.
“You’re lucky,” he said, smiling. “You sound close.”
“Yeah,” I said softly, a pang of warmth tugging at me. “I guess we are.”
At some point, I pulled out my phone and held it up. “Let’s take a picture. You’re officially my favourite person I’ve mettonight, which is such a win for you considering the fact that I met up with my best friend Sydney today and she’s pretty neat! ”
He laughed but leaned in, letting me press a kiss to his cheek as the flash went off. I posted it immediately, feeling bold, the caption a simple
YohItsSoh: New favourite person.
A minute later, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, and my stomach flipped at what someone had commented under my post.
Wynter: ?
I showed Arjuna the screen, snorting. “My overprotective childhood friend. He’s probably freaking out right now.”
“And why is that?”
“Because Ididn’tkiss him back.” I snorted a laugh.
“Why not mystery girl from Jakarta?” He leaned back,
“Because why should I? He needs to give me a reason.” I sighed. “He’s probably plotting second-degree on you right now.”
Arjuna grinned. “Should I be scared?”
