My jab made him snort. He pulled up the empty chair beside me, sat down, and started tapping his fingers against my desk while watching me work.
“The Danudara family seems destined always to be busy, eh?” he said, my brow raised at the odd remark. I glanced at him, confused, as he continued.
“I mean, Zaeem’s constantly flying here and there for duty, and Zioh, well… he’s always on the phone.” Andi gestured at the photo of Zioh on my screen, the one of him speaking on stage. He shrugged, “It feels like ever since his arrival, those AirPods have never left his ears.”
I studied the picture too. Yes, Zioh had AirPods on at the conference. But for me, it was nothing unusual. AirPods, earphones, headphones—he always wore them. I couldn’t remember when it started, maybe when we were teenagers.
“He listens to music with them,” I explained. “Especially when he’s drawing.”
Andi fell silent, eyeing me, before I turned back to the screen. “Really?” he muttered. “But he talks through them, Bib. He’s actually on the phone, like some lovestruck lad chatting away.” He chuckled, and his words drew me back to the moment in the hall—when Zioh pressed his AirPods and shouted.
He had been angry on the phone with someone. Could that be a bad sign?
I didn’t know. Everything about him was so murky, and it was only the beginning that cracked open for me.
Andi kept chuckling beside me, grating on my nerves. Today, of all days, my body and mind weren’t in a state to deal with his rambling and teasing.
His attempt at making peace was lame.
I sighed and shot him a look that screamed:Stop bothering me. In a second, he shut his mouth and nodded, “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll shut my mouth.” He zipped his lips with his fingers and bulged his eyes at me.
For a moment, we sat in silence. Then Aditya passed by, lugging a big bag, probably off somewhere again, especially after the conference finished. He glanced at me, his eyes widening for a moment, then he walked on towards the lift, and I exhaled the breath I’d been holding when he disappeared from view.
Andi clicked his tongue in puzzlement, making me glance at him. I understood, though. If not for the incident in the hall yesterday, Aditya would’ve greeted me or pestered me with A, B, C, and D tasks. But after yesterday, he’d texted me this morning.
Aditya apologized, admitted his disturbing behavior, and promised to keep his distance. And he proved it now.
I was relieved, honestly, I’d wanted this for so long. I’d even planned to talk with him and rehearsed what to say. But now it was all settled quicker than I imagined, albeit not as I planned. I was glad Aditya respected me enough not to pry further, and our text exchange ended with me apologizing for Zioh’s outburst.
Still, I never expected Zioh to lose control like that, especially towards Aditya, his colleague.
Andi nudged my waist with his elbow, his eyes still following Aditya. “That was Didit, right?” he whispered, wide-eyed at me.
I sighed. There was so much I wanted to tell him. But remembering his reaction before, I restrained myself. Besides, recalling Zioh’s words yesterday aboutmy little friendlosing control, I suspected Andi had once done something to him. It was better not to dig. Especially these days, he seemed to be hiding something from me.
Andi squinted at me, staring so intently that it made my heartbeat speed up. “That man found a new prey, maybe?” he muttered under his breath, glaring.“Bet your sasaeng got bored with you already—”
“Andi.” My warning was low and firm when I glanced around. He couldn’t mean to start his shit on our divisionfloor! Finally, he realized and looked around too, cleared his throat, and sat up straighter.
We lapsed into silence again. I refocused on my work, but he grew bored and soon launched into another story. “I went to my gran’s grave yesterday, you know what?”—dear Lord, he had endless topics—“on the way, I smelled this powerful fragrance. At first I thought,oh no, I’ve picked up a spirit shit or something.”
I arched a brow at him. Horror stories now? Really, Andi?
He carried on, calm. “Turns out I’d walked past someone’s grave.”
I nodded, giving him a sign that I listened.
“And guess whose grave it was? Your mom’s, Bib.” He grew animated. “Holy shit, it was covered in flowers, the most colorful and lavish of the lot, and it smelled incredible. So, thanks, Bib, for spreading such fragrance.”
My lips parted. “Hm, you’re welcome?”
A laugh slipped out of me, and I shook my head. I let out a short sigh and leaned my head on his shoulder.
“Mas Bibu often visits Mom’s grave,” I murmured.So did I, especially when I needed to cry.
I was grateful and happy he was here.
Still, at the back of my mind lingered the question: what was he hiding from me these past few days? Why was he burying it now, and pretending that night never happened?
