Chapter 3: Tracing a Vanishing Trail

"Nayara."

The name echoed in his mind. The more he tried to forget, the louder her voice reverberated. But how could someone vanish without a trace?

Arya frowned, his fingers tapping the table. He disliked mysteries. Yet, here he was, trapped in one.

He sat in front of his laptop, his eyes weary from staring at a screen that yielded nothing. He had tried everything, searching for Nayara's name on search engines, social media, even the hotel guest list. Nothing. As if the woman had never existed.

Arya sighed, slamming the laptop shut in frustration. It was impossible for someone to disappear so completely. Unless...

He stood abruptly, grabbing his car keys. There was one more place he could go. The bar where they had met.

Entering the bar, Arya chose the same seat he had occupied before. He tapped the table, seeking attention. The same bartender stood before him, wiping glasses and looking at him curiously.

"Still looking for the woman in the red dress? Like yesterday?" the bartender asked bluntly.

"Yes. You remember now?"

The bartender seemed fed up with Arya, deciding to drop the pretense of politeness. He shrugged, a hint of mockery in his gesture. "Sorry, bro. There are a lot of women like that here."

Arya clenched his jaw. He had expected that answer. But he wouldn't give up so easily.

"You have CCTV, right?" he asked, his eyes piercing the bartender's.

The bartender stopped wiping his glass, his expression becoming wary. "Can't, bro. I told you it's against the rules."

Arya sighed in exasperation at his own fruitless efforts. He glanced at his phone's contact list. No name or number for Nayara. The only proof of her existence was Arya's own memory.

But why did Nayara feel so real?

With mounting frustration, Arya stood again and left without ordering. There was one more place he could try.

That night, Arya didn't go home. He went to the hotel where he and Nayara had stayed.

Upon reaching the reception desk, he asked in a firm tone, "I'm Arya Wiryawan, a guest who stayed here two nights ago. Do you have any record of a guest named Nayara that night?"

Arya placed his ID card on the counter. The receptionist took it, checked briefly, and then examined the system.

She shook her head. "You checked in alone, Mr. Wiryawan."

Arya gritted his teeth. "Are there CCTV cameras in the lobby?"

"We can't show recordings to guests without official authorization," the receptionist replied professionally, returning Arya's ID.

The desperate man clenched his fists. No guest record. No access to CCTV. Was it all in his head?

No. He wouldn't believe that. He walked out of the hotel with heavy steps. If the normal channels couldn't give him answers, he would have to find another way.

That night, he began contacting his old acquaintances in the police force. He tried to find out if there were any missing person reports matching Nayara's description. Perhaps she was on some kind of wanted list, which was why she could disappear so mysteriously.

But there were no results. No missing person reports for Nayara. No wanted criminals under that name.

Then, he tried asking those who were more knowledgeable. Maybe there was a way to track someone who left no trace.

"If you know her, wait forty-eight hours and file a missing person report," the officer advised.

No. He didn't know Nayara that well. He couldn't file a report. Maybe this wasn't just a regular incident. And he vowed he wouldn't stop until he found the answers.

That night, for the fourth time in a week, Arya returned to the bar where he had met Nayara.

The same bartender was working. Upon seeing Arya, the man sighed and shook his head.

"Bro, you're back again?" he asked, serving drinks to other customers.

Arya sat at the bar, ignoring the bartender's resigned tone.

"I can't rest until I find the answers."

The bartender placed a glass on the counter, filling it for Arya, a complimentary beer.

"So, you're going to come here every day, hoping to see her again?" the bartender asked.

Arya took a sip, then placed the empty glass down for a refill. "Unless you take pity on me and show me the CCTV footage."

"I told you, I can't show you any recordings." The bartender clicked his tongue.

"Please," Arya's voice was lower now. "I just want to know if I'm going crazy or not."

The bartender looked at Arya for a long moment, then sighed. His expression softened.

Since the man had first come asking about Nayara, Arya had looked haunted. Now, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced.

Finally, the bartender took pity on Arya's disheveled state. He pulled out his phone and typed something.

"Wait here."

Arya watched the man walk to the back, to the staff room. His heart pounded faster. Would he finally get answers?

Five minutes later, the bartender returned, looking hesitant.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he said softly. "But you really look like you won't rest until you know."

Arya nodded gratefully.

The bartender pulled a tablet from under the counter and placed it in front of Arya. The screen showed CCTV footage from the night Arya met Nayara.

Arya held his breath, staring at the screen without blinking. He saw himself entering the bar, sitting in the same seat as that night. The bartender came and served him a drink.

Arya swallowed, waiting.

And when the moment arrived, the moment he was sure Nayara sat beside him, she was in a blind spot, out of the CCTV's view.

He saw himself talking, smiling, even turning to the side, as if in conversation. But whoever was beside him was not visible.

Arya was deeply disappointed. He saw himself in the recording—laughing, talking, even looking happy.

But he couldn't see Nayara.

"Shit!" he cursed, his voice barely audible. "But she was there, right? I'm not imagining things. She was next to me, bro."

The bartender just shrugged.

"Other CCTV. You have other CCTV with different angles!" he demanded. The bartender rolled his eyes.

"Can't, bro. I can only help you once."

Arya was beyond frustrated. He could feel Nayara. Her touch. The warmth of her body. It all felt so real. But why was it so hard to reach her again?

The bartender looked at Arya with a sympathetic expression. "Are you sure you don't want to meet other women? It's not like she's the only one, bro!"

Arya shook his head. "She's special. This isn't just about spending one night and being done with it. She has something I need."

Silence fell.

The bartender glanced at the screen again before turning off the recording. "I don't know what you're going through, bro. But if you're sure she exists, maybe you should look elsewhere."

Arya clenched his hands on the table. Maybe the bartender was right.

If Nayara knew how to stay out of CCTV's view, then something bigger was going on. Something that couldn't be explained by logic. The woman was indeed special. And he had to find her.

Arya arrived at his apartment, his body weary and his head full of thoughts. As he took off his jacket and placed it on the chair, he felt truly at a crossroads.

Should he give up or keep trying? But then he remembered the sleepless nights, and Arya's determination returned.

If he failed to find Nayara again, he might need to return to therapy with his psychiatrist.