The sound of papers being slapped onto the table echoed, sending small vibrations through the air and scattering the neatly stacked pile. Nadia flinched, her daydreams shattered. With nervous hands, she hurriedly rearranged the papers, hoping this was just a minor reprimand.
But her hopes faded as a weary sigh escaped Via's lips.
"I've told you, your novel is not interesting at all!" The woman's sharp tone stabbed Nadia's ears, filling the room with an oppressive tension. "If you want to write an adult romance novel, don't be too explicit! Remember, our readers are mostly teenagers. You know the rules, right? And the romance… oh God, how many times have I told you? The romantic scenes you write feel stiff! Lifeless! It's exhausting for me to keep correcting you over and over!"
Each of Via's words felt like arrows piercing deep into Nadia's heart. She could only bow her head, letting defeat paint itself clearly on her face. Once again, she had failed to meet expectations.
She once had big dreams of becoming a famous writer. Some of the short stories she had published had sparked a glimmer of hope. However, reader responses were far from what she had hoped for.
Every criticism was a hammer, chipping away at her confidence little by little. Now, sitting in front of an editor who never stopped correcting her, Nadia felt like she was drifting further away from that dream.
In the suffocating silence, she clenched the corner of her paper with trembling fingers. Was her dream truly too high? Or was she simply not good enough to achieve it?
Via rubbed her face slowly, as if trying to gather the last remnants of her patience. She stared at Nadia intently, her gaze filled with exhaustion and sympathy.
"Nadia, you should just forget about becoming a writer," she said, her voice softer but still piercing. "Your writing is completely empty, meaningless. You fail to build characters, let alone create emotions that touch readers. I suggest you take a job as an admin instead, okay? I can help you find one."
Those words landed like a heavy weight on Nadia's chest. She knew that beneath the cold words, Via genuinely wanted to protect her. As the only child of her late best friend, Via felt responsible for ensuring that Nadia could still survive, especially after the fire tragedy that took her family away.
But Nadia shook her head firmly, her eyes gleaming with determination. "No! I'm not giving up yet! I believe that one day, I can become a famous writer whose work is loved by many!"
Mbak Via let out a deep sigh, her tone turning more insistent. "Come on, Nadia…"
"Please, Sis! Don't extinguish my dream! Give me another chance! This time, I'll write a story that—"
"Enough!"
The word came out sharp, cutting off Nadia's protest. Her voice was flat, cold, and full of finality. Nadia fell silent. She knew this time, Via was truly at the end of her patience.
"How many chances have I already given you? And look at the results. You still haven't met my expectations. Nadia, remember this well: your writing will be read by many people. Have you forgotten what happened a few months ago?"
Nadia lowered her head. Her mind spun, digging up the bitter memories she had tried to forget. She remembered that day vividly—when her published work was bombarded with harsh criticism until it was pulled from the market. What hurt the most was that Arina—the friend she had considered a sister—had laughed at her in public.
Via leaned forward, her gaze sharp. "Are you sure you want to keep forcing this? If this work gets published again, are you ready to face the ridicule like last time?"
Those words cut deep. Nadia couldn't answer. On one hand, she wanted to keep chasing her dream, to keep her passion alive. But on the other hand, repeated failures made each step feel heavier.
She lowered her head, her fingers trembling as they clenched the corner of the paper. Via's question echoed in her mind, challenging her confidence.
'Do I really have what it takes to face this world as a writer?'
Via reached out, gently touching Nadia's trembling fingers. She let out a long sigh, her eyes filled with pity for the young woman in front of her.
Nadia, the only daughter of her late best friend, was now alone in the world. No parents, no relatives willing to extend a hand. Via knew well the hardships Nadia had endured.
"I know writing novels has been your dream for a long time, Nadia," she said gently. "But you also have to understand that your work hasn't been well received so far. I just want you to be realistic."
"But, Sis…" Nadia's voice wavered, but her resolve didn't. "Why don't you just try publishing this manuscript? The story is about—"
"Oh my God, Nad!" Via cut in, lightly flicking Nadia's forehead—a gesture more like a sister scolding her younger sibling. "Have you seen your own novel? Almost every scene is like that! Do you think this is an adult-only publishing house? I could get fired if I publish this!"
Nadia could only grin sheepishly at her editor's scolding. She knew her writing often went overboard when it came to romantic scenes. Maybe she was too influenced by things that shouldn't be used as references—like scenes from blue films? Hehee… she thought, slightly embarrassed.
"Hmm," Via murmured, her voice softening again. "I just want you to think carefully, Nad. Would you consider taking the admin IT job here? Honestly, I'm surprised at you. A computer science graduate, yet you insist on becoming a novelist."
Nadia chuckled softly. She couldn't deny Via's words. Since she was young, she had always loved reading novels, and that love had grown into an obsession with writing her own stories.
"I'll think about it, Sis," she finally replied. "But I still really want to be a writer. That's my dream…" She pouted slightly, making Via shake her head with a smile.
Without saying anything, Via rolled up Nadia's manuscript and gently patted her head, a gesture full of affection. "Go home now!" she said, pretending to chase her away.
Nadia laughed lightly, knowing full well that Via never truly meant to be harsh. To Nadia, Via was irreplaceable. When everyone abandoned her after the fire tragedy years ago, Via and her husband, Antonio, came like angels. They became the family she needed.
'I love you, Sis...'
●●●●●
Sky Café, 15:38 PM
Nadia's POV
Ting!
The doorbell chimed as I pushed open the glass door of the café. The cool air from the air conditioner immediately embraced me, mixed with the aroma of coffee and the sweet scent of pastries. I quickened my pace toward the bar counter, where a younger-looking guy with a cute face greeted me as usual.
"Good afternoon, Nadia. Your usual order?" asked Alvian, the barista who had seen me here often enough.
"Hmm, yeah, the usual, Vian. I'll be at the corner table," I said, handing him the money for my order.
He nodded politely, giving a thumbs-up before turning back to his machine. I walked toward my favorite spot—table number nine in the back corner. That place always felt like my own personal space.
Sky Café was special. Its interior design embraced classic European style: crystal chandeliers, carved wooden walls, and large windows that offered a view of the city streets. Although it was quite far from my house, I always chose to come here. It felt like a small kingdom amidst the chaos of modern life.
Not long after, the sound of approaching footsteps broke my thoughts.
Tak!
"Nadia, here's your order. Strawberry cake and chocolate milkshake with ice cream on top, right?" Alvian placed the tray on the table with his signature smile.
"Oh, thank you, dear Vian," I replied with a small smile.
He chuckled at my playful nickname, mumbling something before heading back to the counter. I watched his retreating figure before shifting my gaze out the window. The sky was cloudy as usual—just like my mood lately.
"Huft, alright, Nadia," I whispered to myself. "Let's revise your novel."
I pushed the milkshake glass slightly to the side, opened my bag, and took out my laptop along with a stack of manuscript papers. One by one, I looked through the documents that had been rejected by Via earlier this afternoon. I stared at the papers with a mix of frustration and determination.
"Seriously, what's missing from my novel? I made it clear that this is an explicit adult work, didn't I? Besides, this genre has plenty of readers, right? Hmm..."
I muttered to myself while staring at the laptop screen. My fingers began moving, editing every part that Via had deemed "problematic." Most of the scenes had to be trimmed, rewritten, or even completely deleted.
Earlier, I had spent nearly two hours listening to her long lecture. The reason? My novel was too vulgar to be published. Yeah, I knew that, but still...
"Why was I so stupid to write something like this? It's not like I've ever experienced anything!"
I chuckled softly, laughing at myself. I've never even had a boyfriend, so where did all these wild ideas come from?
Well, I knew the answer.
Thanks to my two friends, who constantly bombarded me with stories about their married lives. Every time we met, they never failed to share the details of their relationships with their husbands. Without realizing it, all those stories became wild inspirations that I poured into my writing.
As I kept typing, my mind wandered. I couldn't deny it—writing love stories always drew me in, sometimes too much. And now, just like this moment, I had to face it: endless revisions.
Nadia's POV END
The atmosphere at Sky Café remained calm. This was the main reason Nadia always came here. At this hour, the place wasn't too crowded, making the ambiance feel peaceful and comforting. The only sounds were the soft tapping of laptop keys, occasionally accompanied by the gentle clink of a fork against a plate as she cut into her favorite strawberry cake.
Strawberry cake and chocolate milkshake—these two were her ultimate comfort treats. Whenever she felt stressed, exhausted, or down, sweet food and drinks always managed to lift her mood, even just a little.
Nadia took a deep breath, then stretched her body. Sitting in the same position for too long made her muscles stiff. She glanced at the time on her phone—5:10 PM. That meant she had been here for over an hour. Her eyes shifted to the nearly empty milkshake glass. Maybe it was time to go home.
Tak!
Huh? Nadia frowned. Someone suddenly placed a cup of hot coffee on her table without saying a word. Her brows furrowed even more as her gaze lifted to the man standing in front of her.
Her eyes widened!
The man was handsome—no, too handsome. His face looked like it had been sculpted straight out of a Greek god statue, complete with piercing eyes and a perfectly chiseled jawline. In her entire life, Nadia had never seen a man like this.
But before her thoughts could wander too far, she quickly regained focus.
"Err… sorry, but I didn't order coffee. Umm… and I don't even like it," she said politely, though her confusion was still evident.
The man who had placed the cup on her table remained standing there, his gaze locking onto hers. His dark eyes seemed to have a magnetic pull, capable of hypnotizing anyone who dared to look into them.
Nadia started feeling slightly uncomfortable under his intense stare. She quickly looked away, trying to focus on something else. Her face began to heat up, and she feared her cheeks might turn red from embarrassment.
"For you."
Thump!
His voice was deep, husky—somehow soothing yet captivating. Nadia's heart nearly skipped a beat at that simple phrase. Dear God, this 'perfect' man even has a deadly voice! Is he real? she panicked internally.
"But… I don't drink coffee. I'm sorry, I just don't like it," Nadia declined again as gently as she could. This time, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
Creak!
Instead of taking the cup away, the man pulled out the chair in front of her and sat down, facing her directly. His movements were calm, as if he already knew that his presence wouldn't be easily rejected.
He gave a small smile—just enough to make Nadia's heart race even faster. His smile was sincere, but for some reason, it also carried a certain confidence.
"This isn't just any coffee. It's a cappuccino. I made it myself. Try it," he said, pushing the cup closer to her.
Nadia swallowed hard. Okay, he's handsome, but isn't he being a bit too pushy? she thought, feeling conflicted. But she also knew that this man wasn't going to give up easily.
Finally, Nadia reached out, taking the cappuccino cup. She examined the foam art on top—a panda. A panda! One of her favorite things. She unconsciously smiled a little, feeling a small warmth behind this stranger's otherwise insistent approach.
Hesitantly, she brought the cup to her nose, inhaling the aroma. The scent of strong coffee mixed with a faint sweetness.
Srruppp...
Eh?! What is this taste? Bitter… but there's some sweetness too. Hmm, it has milk mixed in? But the coffee is still pretty strong, she thought, slightly overwhelmed. This was her first time tasting coffee, and her tongue struggled to process the complex flavors.
Yet, for some reason, she brought the cup back to her lips and took another sip. Even though she wasn't a fan of coffee, the mix of milk and sweetness made it more bearable. Not exactly enjoyable, but… not completely off-putting either.
The man in front of her continued watching her every movement and expression. Something about her intrigued him—perhaps the honesty in her subtle reactions, or maybe the fragile aura she tried to hide beneath her strong front.
Then, suddenly, he spoke again. His voice was low and steady, like the sound of a piano playing on a cloudy afternoon.
"You know, cappuccino has its own philosophy. The bitterness of espresso represents the challenges in life that come without warning. The sweet, creamy milk is the lesson—a reminder that every failure is part of the process of growing. And the light foam on top, that's hope. Simple, but always there if we choose to see it."
Nadia fell silent, letting his words sink into her mind. There was something oddly calming about them—comforting yet piercing. She stared at the cappuccino in her hands. Bitter, sweet, and smooth—just as he described.
"Thank you… Sir…?" she murmured, still unsure who this man was.
"Angkasa. That's my name."
Hearing that, Nadia's eyes widened in surprise. She looked up, staring at him in confusion. The name was unfamiliar, yet it felt strangely familiar. Not wanting to be rude, she was about to introduce herself when…
"And I already know your name, Nadia Putri Anjani. Cum laude graduate in Informatics last year. An amateur writer with great potential, but…"
"I'm just a failed writer," Nadia cut in quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. She lowered her gaze again, avoiding his intense stare.
A moment of silence fell between them. Angkasa didn't argue with her words, while Nadia got lost in her own thoughts. The cappuccino in her hands felt warmer than before. She took another sip, letting the taste linger on her tongue as if searching for an answer.
Outside the window, the sky had begun to turn orange. The evening breeze carried the scent of coffee and memories that were hard to describe.
For Nadia, this encounter felt more significant than just a random meeting.