Better Place

In the morning, I remembered my promise to Ace. Then I might as well meet the contractor who worked on the Ace café construction project. When I just finished making an appointment with the chief contractor, Ace called. I was quite surprised to see his name on the phone screen. I think he has telepathic abilities.

"Hi Ace, I was thinking of you just now," I said deliberately teasing while telling the truth.

He laughed. He never took my jokes to heart.

I don't know what he is doing and where he is now. I imagined him standing on the balcony of his apartment in Singapore. Looking up at the city while talking to me.

"How is Singapore?" I asked.

"I hope… everything went smoothly. I called because I wanted to know the progress of the café. Have you been there?"

"I'll take a look today. This afternoon, I had an appointment at eleven o'clock to meet the contractor. Is there a message for him?"

"Nothing." Pause. "Thanks for bothering," he said.

I was astonished by the pauses between his sentences. "What's the matter? Everything went well, right?"

"Ah, damn! The sensitive side you have really makes me unable to lie to you," Ace said. It seems that he is having a problem and trying to be cheerful in order to overcome it. Ace was currently massaging his forehead.

"What's the matter? Tell me," I said, a little urgently.

Ace was silent for quite a long time. I'm waiting.

"Just pray for me, everything goes smoothly," he said.

"You don't want to tell me what the problem is? Maybe telling me a little will help you, ease the mental burden."

Ace was silent again. It seemed that the problem was indeed something he couldn't tell me about.

"I don't think this is something suitable to tell over the phone," Ace said, and suddenly felt somber. "Maybe I'll tell you someday," he said. I could feel that he was sad. But what can I do? I can't give a hug in this long distance.

"Well. Remember to stay positive, don't push yourself. If you are tired, you can rest first," I said, without knowing what the problem was, I gave him a solution. I just hope that something like this can strengthen him.

"Thank you," he said. Then followed by the question, "And what are your plans for today? Apart from meeting the contractor, what do you want to do?"

"Oh, I have an appointment to go to my friend's café. I think I'll write there all day, then go home," I said.

"You really are, a real writer huh. It doesn't matter when and where to write. I hope I don't interrupt your process by asking you to be the project supervisor!"

I laughed. "No, I don't feel bothered at all, because you pay me every month!" I exclaimed.

He laughed along. "So, you helped me because of money?"

I deliberately teased him, "You know, money is a tool that can make us feel happy. Because I can use money to buy things I like."

In my heart, I felt sad, irony. Because actually, the money I get doesn't end up being mine. I couldn't use the money for my needs or buy what I dreamed of. The money.... This made me become tired all of a sudden.

We ended the phone conversation half an hour later. There are some insignificant things we talked about. The trivial things that came out of our minds made me feel like life was still worth fighting for. Strange, huh.

I went to Victor's café as I promised, coming before the café opened. I also told him that I should see the development of Ace's café.

Victor asked who Ace was and I explained enough to him. Ace was a senior at the college, continued his education in Singapore and because his parents were rich, Ace inherited a piece of land and also money. Ace will build a café for his business in Jogja. Ace had planned this a long time ago. Ace wants to have an excuse every time he comes to Indonesia, especially Yogyakarta. At least, the reason is in the form of seeing his own café.

"Waw... Rich people are different. Setting up a café as if it were just an ordinary halfway house. It's so easy," Victor said. "I honestly envy this guy like Ace, because he has everything and doesn't seem to have to struggle from scratch."

In order to get a piece of land and establish Ecology, Victor said that he saved money from the first time he worked. This land is not even his, but belongs to his friend and they work together.

I don't know what to say. Should I say something sweet to comfort him? However, I don't think such a thing is useful.

Everyone has their own starting line. Victor starts by having to struggle, let's say until his flesh and blood have almost dried up until he can set up his dream café. As for Ace, it's just like someone who picks fruit from a tree that has been planted by his ancestors.

"I'll be back here after checking the progress," I said.

"Before leaving, have you had breakfast?" asked Victor.

I shook my head and my instinct told me that Victor wanted to talk about something important, something that wasn't easy to talk about so he deliberately made the opportunity happen. His awkward attitude made me think that way. Am I overdoing it? Fantasize? Imagining something that didn't actually happen?

"Then, before leaving, have breakfast first," Victor said. "Follow me."

We are on the second floor in the employee area. I walked into his room, which was only five by five meters in size. For me it's not too narrow. Victor is good at arranging the contents of the room. There are tables and chairs for him and a set of sofas. There is also a bookshelf that also functions as a decorative shelf. Victor filled it with a one-piece replica.

I followed him downstairs. He took me to the café kitchen. There are three of his employees who have already arrived. They make preparations to open in the morning. Cafe Victor opened at ten o'clock in the morning and it was only eight o'clock in the morning.

"I borrowed the kitchen first," Victor said, asking his employees for permission.

The employees are welcome. Who doesn't allow their boss to do something in his own area?

"What do you want to cook?"

I watched him and simultaneously looked for a chair to sit down on. Victor was sensitive to what I needed. He picked me up a round chair and told me to sit down. Meanwhile, he was busy removing the groceries.

"Instant fried noodles?!" I exclaimed. I laughed, feeling funny because I thought he would make me something other than instant fried noodles.

Victor smiled. He must be proud of himself for making me expect more.

"I'll add other ingredients, so just wait," he said.

"Okay." I've resigned myself and accepted. Judging from the ingredients he took out of the refrigerator, it seemed that he was going to add eggs, vegetables, and there were also pieces of tuna. I'm waiting for the results.

"Last night, what did you talk about with your friend?" Victor invited me to talk while the water was boiled.

"Oh, I told them I plan to make a new novel," I said.

"New novel? What do you want to discuss?"

The diction Victor used to ask about the theme of my novel was different from that used by Rizal, but somehow it had made an impact. I feel deja vu.

"Is it a secret?" Victor asked because I was silent for a long time.

"It's not a secret, it's just, last night I discovered something unexpected from my friends."

"Unexpected? How does that mean?"

"Their reaction," I said.

Victor was now taking out the noodles from the wrapper and was about to put them in the already boiling water as I said, "Because I'm discussing LGBTQ. I think they were surprised. What put me in a bad mood was because one of them thought I was lesbian."

I just noticed that the movement of Victor's hand hung in the air for a few moments. Is it because he cares about my feelings so much?

I looked at him and Victor came back to his senses. He put the noodles into the boiling water. Then he picked up a fork to stir it.

"What was your reaction when you were asked like that?"

"I replied that I have a lover. I mention you, with a rather high volume." Instantly, I remembered last night's events and felt I had overdone it.

"Have I overdone it?"

Victor twisted the noodles in the boiling water. He didn't answer my question. He seemed to be concentrating on his cooking. When he had already sliced the noodles that had just been cooked, he replied, "I don't know. I can't judge. Maybe you are because you expect your friends to accept your point of view."

I straightened up. Victor was right.

"Am I right?" Victor guessed. He was turning on the stove again just now and put down the teflon.

"We can't force people to have the same point of view as us. You took up a controversial topic in our country. There are very few people accepting LGBTQ people here. You may be one of those few. People who support are not the same as having the same sexual orientation as them. You shouldn't be angry. Your friends probably haven't thought to that point."

I was quite impressed with his reaction. He said all that calmly. It seems that he has often faced problems related to LGBTQ people.

"It seems that you are also a supporter of their rights," I said. At that time, I felt that I had friends and had chosen to have a romantic relationship with the right person.

Victor nodded.

"So, what's the storyline? What genre? Realistic or fantasy?" Victor asked for my novel back.

Hearing Victor show interest in my work, I became excited and felt that the path I chose was the right path. After all, I really love the activity of writing fiction. If it can bring new insights to my readers, I hope it will bring positive change, making the world a more comfortable place for everyone, without exception.