Sometimes, the deepest wound is hidden behind the loudest laughter.52Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWQTXXMVPTC
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And in Jogja—in the middle of coffee shop chatter, small jokes, and too familiar dusk—Aksa chose to keep laughing.
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Not because he is happy. But because he was afraid of the question 'what's wrong with you?' It comes from someone who is too sincere.
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The sky of Jogja that afternoon was so familiar.
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As if this city knows how to welcome feelings that want to hide. Gentle, but never let someone be completely forgotten.
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Aksa sat on a bench near their favorite places, letting his back lean and his eyes swept over the sky that was slowly changing in color. Senja is indeed good at disguising something—like himself.
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"Yes, just one toast, Sir," said Rere while laughing, adding the order while chewing.
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"Don't be hungry like that, Re. That toast is not your ninja way," Niko snapped, then laughed loudly to himself.
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Aksa laughed too.
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Not too loud. But quite convincing.
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Enough to disguise that since he came, he hasn't touched his tea.
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"How come you're still holding the warm tea, Sa?" Arul asked while pointing to the glass that had not been drunk.
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Aksa smirked, spontaneous. "Let someone do it. After all, the heart is already cold."
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Others simultaneously cheered, teased.
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"Wow, wow, you're starting to be poetic, bro!" Said Tari with a seductive style, following her opening her jacket because the wind started to fall.
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But only Aksa knew, his left hand trembled slightly. He held it under the table, then pretended to be busy cleaning the glass with a tissue.
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There are six of them. Best friend since high school.
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Jogja that unites them: a city that feels like going home, but often also slaps with silence.
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There is Arul, the moodbooster.
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Rere, who is too chatty but entertaining.
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Tari, the listener is silent.
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Niko, who likes to overthink but denies.
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Dina, the secret analyst.
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And of course, Aksa. The one who always laughs the loudest—but always the first to go home.
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The night is starting to fall slowly.
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The sound of motorcycles, the chatter at the next table, and the smell of charcoal from the fried food began to mix with the cooling air.
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"Eh, have you ever thought about it," said Tari, suddenly serious, "if one of us actually keeps something that can't be told?"
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The atmosphere suddenly became quieter. Even Mr. Lik, who used to fan the satay, stopped for a moment, as if he caught the tone in that question.
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Rere said, "You said that while looking at Aksa, you know. Poor him, hahahaha."
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Everyone laughed. Except Aksa.
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He also smiled, but his eyes didn't smile.
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If I tell you, are you sure you can accept it? Or even stay away?
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Jogja, 3 years ago
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There was one night where Aksa sat alone in a small ditch near the angkringan. It was raining at that time. And his hands were bleeding because of something he wouldn't tell.
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Someone once left—leaving a huge hole in his chest that couldn't be patched.
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Not because of death. But because of losing self-confidence that was destroyed after a long night.
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He knew, that night changed him.
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But he never talked about it. Even on himself.
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Back to tonight
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"Sa, why are you silent?" Dina asked softly, the most sensitive as usual.
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Aksa glanced at his best friend. His lips formed a small smile, and the sentence slid slowly,
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"It's okay. I just... want to shut it a minute."
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And everyone knows, the phrase "it's okay" from Aksa is the clearest sign that something is not going well.
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After the chat, everyone tried to switch the chat to make atmosphere better and relax again.
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When go home
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Aksa refused to be dropped off.
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He chose to walk, along the narrow road near the ditch, where his memories are hidden.
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The Jogja wind brings the smell of soil and wet paper. One brochure fell at his feet: Freelance Job Vacancy - Creative World
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He smiled slightly. Ironic. A creative world, but inside it feels empty.
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"I'm alive, yes. But do I really exist?”
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While walking, he turned to the dark corner near the tree. The place is quiet.
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And...
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There, Sekar will appear for the first time—but not tonight.
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Aksa stopped in front of his boarding room, staring at his reflection on the window.
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He looks fine. But he knew, it was just a reflection.
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And the reflection can't cry.
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"When... can I look sad without having to wonder?"
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He looked down.
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Then enter.
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Then... shut up.
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