The Love of the Poet
Episodes 10
Tenth Part
The Love of the Poet
Truly, I was being wrongly stared at in such a way by the handsome man in front of me
these. I wanted to ask if there was anything wrong with my appearance or my face
plain without a touch of make-up, I dare not. He might be thinking
the capital he's been spending on the children's tabloid I'm leading, so
his eyes kept on me. Yes, I can't ‘geer’ first. Then when
the meal he ordered was served on the table, I did not dare
touched it. Afraid later suspected greedy girl who has not eaten a week.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I'm thinking a lot.
Please eat, whichever you like just take it!” beib said suddenly.
“No, Mr. First who ate. Longtime
waiting for me must be hungry.”
“Can I told you not to call
Sired. I'm at least a year older than you. How old are you now?”
tanyakanya.
“Twenty-five,” I replied just so, I also sometimes forget about my own age. If people ask, I often answer 24 years, at different times, 26 years, but 25 years along. I've never celebrated a birthday, for me it's a pretty fancy ritual. My mom always said, don't think
it's a matter of your birthday or year and what date you were born. If it is too
urgently, just look at your birth certificate that I kept in the closet
our shabby clothes. You're about 24, 25 and 26, nothing more. Well, so
i call it. My mom who I consider super cute has taught me demikan.
“Hah, twenty-five? Ah I think you
not serious. Maybe it could be more than that. I was twenty-eight
year, exactly today.” He said while occasionally looking at his Handphone.
“Oh well, so Mr. Beib birthday day
this one? Well congratulations yes,” I extend my hand to give ucapab congratulations. I
keep on saying the word “Pak’ in front of his name. I don't want any formality
which has been intertwined all this time turned into a personal familiarity that can
take away my respect. And more importantly, I don't want to exist
a sense of physical attraction when he saw the face of his handsome full of allure. Honestly, I don't want to suffer my feelings
by oneself.
“Alright, thank you. It's not really a birthday thing I want to talk to you about. I want to tell you something, but
I'm afraid you'll disagree. All right, you eat first. Later finished
new meal I will say.” Said Mr. Beib in Indonesian
formal and neat.
I eat with uncomfortable feelings. Scroll at a glance the messenger in Fbku, again there is a message from the Morning Star.This time the message makes me wonder, where I was eating lunch
in this luxury hotel restaurant? “Eating should be with a carefree heart, so that food goes through the intestines to the
the disposal is perfect. Don't play too much in the realm of taste, later
it will make you exhausted yourself. For in your quiet room, only
you're alone. Your father and mother are far away, when you're sick to whom do you complain?
Eat slowly, chew everything until it becomes smooth and soft and
own food. Instant noodle food that always hits your intestines, it's not
fine, happy meal dear..”
I put my spoon and fork with a confused face. I turned my face left and right. Trying to find a suspicious guy who could be the Morning Star, and he's in the middle
spying on me. But around me there's only Beib or Mr. Beib and a few
elderly foreign men and women. Ah, I'm back haunted by bad feelings, though,
what's the matter? Why do the stars know I'm having lunch? I chew
my food was slow, as recommended. In front of me, Beib was still busy
with Hp.
“Pak Beib, I'm full. I'm sorry, I want to know what you're going to say. Is there an important issue?” I looked at her eyes with courage.
“That's not over yet, this food is still plenty. Spend first!” he said without taking his eyes off the screen.
I'm starting to get upset. His attitude seemed to be indifferent to my statement. A few thoughts arose that assumed she felt sorry for a boarding boy like me. Maybe he is
purposely told me to come here so that I could eat well and be treated by it, because
all this time he could have thought I'd never tasted food
that's delicious, and when it's the truth, I start to get insulted
his attitude, this is the arrogance of rich people with thick pockets,
assume that a poor person like me is like **** crammed pajara
good food to his mouth then everything is in order. I wait until busy
with HP is over. I have tidied up my fork and spoon with table manner rules, polite and elegant. At least the training when following the eating procedures with international guests while covering in the state palace, I still remember. So I'm not an ancient man who ate with maximum gluttony to the stomach fullness and felt like vomiting.
“Oh, okay. Just a minute, wait a minute,
I'm finishing all this food. Unfortunately, they are paid handsomely and
they were dumped in the trash. Pity the farmers and fishermen who have planted it,”
he said without further ado, then devoured all the remaining food until
washrooms.
Seeing that, my guilt arose. Ah, he's not as arrogant as he is
kuuga. Then there was leftover asparagus soup in my bowl, I finished the soup unabashedly.
And a glance Beib smiled to see me.
“Look, I want to give you another task.
But this is more personal than a company. I want you to make
biographical writings related to the story of my life and also its development
my company. If this book is successful and later published in public, I believe your name in the world of authorship will also be lifted. The current state of the mass media is on a path
worry about. Along with the development of technology where social media and
their network can be accessed easily, online media also follow it.
Now we can easily read the news in the online media. If all
online media can be accessed easily, why else they buy newspapers
or tabloid. I believe you can write it. The conditions are easy, enough
meet me twice and we do a live interview with
videotaped it. The meeting place I will decide. Think about it, later you
you can send WA if you agree. Okay, me and my driver will take you to
your boarding place.”
That afternoon, I had no power to refuse if Mr. Beib was going to drive me. Regarding the offer of writing a biography, I will think about it tonight. (Connected)
