Aksara Taste (For Flavors That Will Not Be Perfect)
CHAPTER Fourteen

There was a different atmosphere when I saw Rayhan sipping Cappucino in front of me. I usually come here by myself. Drink itself. No conversation partner or discussion partner. But, it seems that now I will have a new partner in terms of enjoying coffee.

While waiting for Cinnamon to come, I listened to Rayhan's story about the incident he experienced last week. Along with the incident that happened to me at that time.

“That day Mas Zifran sprayed me all-out. I'm not angry, I said that's it. It's really spicy, Al. Lucky that day you were also sick and made people panic here.”, said Rayhan complained.

I had a moment to think, how could the executioner be the first to know I was unconscious?

“Emang Mas Zifran know where I was here at that time?” manya curious.

“Well, there it is. When Mas Zifran was again at the peak of emotions, his phone suddenly sounded. I don't understand what is being said. Just finished it Mas Zifran immediately said, “I'm sorry you, Ray. Now grab my car in the parking lot and pick up Alya at the coffee shop. No old use.”

Rayhan said, following the flat style of Mas Zifran without tone.

“Means someone called Mas Zifran and told you that?” manya.

Rayhan nodded doubtfully. “It looks like, it's.”

I haven't had the chance to open my mouth to ask Rayhan a lot of things, the young man first cut off my intentions. He continued his story which was delayed.

“Well, this is so bad. Rudi you are, you know. Just got in the car, I was scolded. Dikatain can not drive, do not have a steering permit, do not know emergency people. Not to mention Mas Zifran who told me to break the red light, call speeding, make spit-spets when the road again jammed. Very bad of them, seriously, Al.”

My laughter broke hearing the suffering Rayhan felt. Imagining how furious Mas Rudi was at that moment made me unable to stop smiling.

However, Mas Rudi still has a heart as sweet as sugar. It's just that I rarely feel it.

“What time is the appointment, anyway, Al?” rayhan asked while glancing at his watch.

“Should have, had come.” I said a little disappointed.

My gaze swept out the terrace of the coffee shop observing someone I did not know who. I just said I was waiting for him. I told him I was wearing a blue-night blouse with my hair tied up.

“Al, I stay, it's okay, right? I'd like to pick up my mom at the airport.” Rayhan looked at me with a guilty look.

“Yes, it's okay, Ray. Yes, you are leaving. Later hunt your mother again who is waiting.” I replied quickly, a little urgent.

Rayhan rises from poof. Leaving me who was starting to get bored. Jason Mraz's Hidden Track is no longer fun to hear.

My eyes are on the phone screen. Waiting for something from Cinnamon. Some kind of notification call or short message. At least he told me why he hadn't arrived yet. Feeling that there would be nothing, I almost grabbed the phone and intended to contact him first.

However, my ball turned as soon as I realized there was someone sitting opposite me. A young man suddenly relaxed his back on the back of the sofa. He folded his arms around his chest and showed off a line of smiles I didn't know what they meant.

He was the young man who argued with me the other day. Who wants to kill themselves.

“Don't sit there. It was specifically for the guests I was waiting for.” ketusku arrogant.

But the one who was spoken to smiled broadly.

“I, right?” ask her with a face I can't read.

Dany came to our table. Ask the menu what the young man asked for.

“Latte.” warm worded.

My eyes blinked. Trying to get to know the young man closer.

Is he Cinnamon? The Taste Range writer I saved from committing suicide at that time? Who helped save my life? Is that true?

“K-you saved my life?” I was half in disbelief.

The young man chuckled small. “Good people don't have to indulge in kindness.”

I caught a smile from the young man's eyes. He was a suicidal man on the sidewalk, who argued with me about the AC problem until the power went out. He's the author of the book I'm working on. He also told Mas Zifran about my unconscious condition at that time.

Out of the billions of people in the world, why do I have to deal with the same people? Why should I face him?

“Oh, yes, honestly I do not know much about the script.” he said casually.

“You contacted me first. Remember that.”

“I dialled the phone number of the scriptwriter. If you're not the person I mean, you should have said from the beginning that you're not-“

“The author has passed away.”

With great difficulty I swallowed. My mind was floating everywhere. It seems to be the most impossible reality I have ever accepted.

“K-you kill him?” tanyaku.

The young man in front of me was wide-eyed. “You think I look like a killer?”

“Not all pearls are precious. Many fake ones too.” reply me to research.

“So, in your opinion, I killed the author just make a script that I don't even know what it's like?” sharp objection.

“Motifnya, right, diverse. You can kill the author for a reason.”

I saw the young man in front of me kneeling his forehead. He tried to write words.

“How can I kill that writer, then why do I find you now? After all, if I said I was a killer, maybe now I am a fugitive. Can't be wild everywhere.” he explained.

I thought about what he said. Connecting with the reality that exists. Indeed, what the young man said had a point as well.

“So how? Not published?” tanyanya.

I sipped saliva many times. Trying to understand a strange situation like this.

“Kalo there is a problem with the script just hand over to me. I am the co-author of the book. So, later I will add the parts you want.”

He looked at me briefly then took a sip of his Latte that had just arrived.

“You-“

“Satya. My name is Satya”

I was silent for a long time, pondering my previous decision. If it's true that Cinnamon is dead, then Satya is the only person I can work with until the script is complete.

After a long breath, I continued the conversation.

“OK. Then you should be-“

“I can not be alone.” sela Satya with her tone that sounds refused.

“Lho? You, you just said. You yourself are going to-“

“But, I'm not a writer.”

“Emang you think I'm a writer? I'm just a copyeditor who-“

“At least you taught me how to write real. If the manuscript that has been revised will be problematic, at the end you will also be bothered, right? So, you taught me first. I just finished it I can write something.”

“Ya, you are the same script flow that already exists. There is no way to nulis-“

“You are the same story as me as the script. The rest I added. But, you're the one guiding.”

Almost my mouth let out dirty words to reduce the heavy burden that made my chest tight. But, my tongue refused to cram in such a haphazard word of a fucking curse.

“You like it so much, yes, cut people talk?”

I didn't know what Satya's gaze meant just after I asked her. He looked at me with a hidden smile. Both his balls looked at me. Even I could clearly see her dark brown eyes. Almost got me hooked.

“Same people chatty like you.”