CITY LOCATION: ANOTHER HEART

Episode 3

Moments after Siera's door closed, Elle raised her face. Tacit. Naura Naysilla will be the daughter-in-law of her beloved Aunt Siera.

Since leaving Jakarta— after graduating SMA— to continue his education at one of the top culinary academies in Sydney, he has decided to forget whatever happened between him and Raffi. Anything. Even when he returned home because he intended to continue his career as a pastry chef in Jakarta about four years later, he also did not look for Raffi. Not planning on getting into a relationship anymore. He just wants to live his life in peace. Alone, while waiting for Aunt Indri—his adopted mother—back from her assignment in Germany. Raffi, and everything about him is the past.

“Lo sure, want to do this? You're not going to mrs? If it has happened, you can not go back to how it used to be.” “Because I don't want to go back like I used to, so please .. help me, Raff? Just this once, before I go.”

“Why should I?”

“Lo my only friend.”

“But, Elle ... I can't ... wreck elo like that?”

“Gue want, so no one will ever turn on elo.”

Elle closed her eyes. Heartbreak is not always about abandonment.

Maybe, things would have been much better for everyone had he and Raffi never met again.

Having managed to master his feelings back, he got up from the table. And rushed towards the kitchen to check out some things.

As always, kitchen personnel move swiftly and tactically in a dynamic rhythm. The entire chef de partie looked busy at their respective stations that afternoon, working quickly to complete the orders that came incessantly. Shouts ‘ya, Chef!’ rumbling over the sound of metal clanking clashing against each other, the hiss of hot oil on the stove, the roar of condiment-refining machines. While observing, Elle smiled faintly, recalling the memories of the days when she was still undergoing her education in Sydney. In his heart he was grateful for the job offer from Aunt Siera. He was not experiencing financial difficulties, but felt no longer able to cope with emotional saturation.

Elle began enjoying her career as a pastry chef at a French restaurant located in Kuningan when a talent scout contacted her via her Instagram direct message. The man offered him to be the star of an advertisement for instant cooking seasoning products. It all started from there. Then began to follow the arrival of offers, ranging from advertisements, to become a host on television. Due to more offers, Elle gave up her career in restaurants. There is nothing wrong with trying to live something new, something completely different, he thought at the time. Gorgeous face. Molecular body. Excellent cooking skills. Soon Gracelle Ariadna transformed from a regular pastry chef into one of the celebrities who quite shine.

And that's where he was reunited with Raffi.

“I still owe you the same responsibility.”

“I told you back then, right? No one will blame you, let alone take responsibility. So just relax, don't think too much.”

“But I love you.”

“We are friends, there will never be such feelings.”

“In my heart there is.”

“That's your problem, and none of my business.”

Love is the one absurd thing that Elle believed never existed. It's just a man's boast to deceive women and use them. Just a patch accessory that can be installed if you like, or removed and removed when bored. Perhaps, the real and trustworthy form of love is only the love of the mother to her child. Like the love that Indri Maheswari and Sophia Girisabha gave to him.

Elle looked up from the daydream as a girl in a maid uniform approached. She said that the mistress of the restaurant owner called her to talk about some grocery suppliers, so Elle rushed over. While crossing the main room of the restaurant, the phone in his black blazer pocket vibrated. Incoming call. Rayhan Danubrata's. Elle did not answer, put the phone back in her pocket, and knocked on the door of Siera's room. Silence when he realized the woman was not alone there. There is Raffi and Naura.

“Wah, I'm interrupting ya, Auntie?” sapana.

Siera. “No, we're done talking. They're already leaving,” obviously. Elle approached the woman's desk. Unaware of the pair of eyes that looked at him angry, longing, and longing. And another pair of eyes that hold both anger and spite.

***

The women's toilet near the storage room of the filming property in one corner of the Global Channel's second-floor main building was deserted. Usually, the crew or performers fill the show more often use the toilet near the makeup room, more efficient in terms of time.

After finishing and fixing her shirt, Elle heard the sound of a door connecting the toilet sink with the studio hallway, locked from the inside. Although surprised, but he ignored. Maybe someone else came in.

Elle squinted while washing hands in the sink. Several times he had seen Naura in the Global Channel studio area. Not a strange thing actually, because he is a designer who knows Elle is quite active as a fashion sponsor for several events. But Elle was shocked also when suddenly met directly with Raffi's fiancee.

“Hai, Nay?” greet Elle.

The one who was called did not answer. Elle just shrugged her shoulders.

His obligation to be polite is dead. Whether we respond or not, it is not his business. Elle picks up her cosmetic pouch, intending to do a touch up before leaving the studio and heading home to her apartment. As he remembered, Raffi had said he would stop by tonight.

“Can not, you step aside well and stop being a destroyer of other people's relationships?”

Her hands that were scavenging the lipstick came to a halt and hung in the air. Elle turned her body, and frowned looking at Naura. “Sorry? What did that mean?”

“Please yes, stop interrupting Raffi. We're getting engaged. Our family had planned for our wedding to be held shortly after.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

Naura grunts impatiently. “I know, anyway I know. So, I asked to stay away from Raffi, for your own good.”

“Are you sure it's not wrong for people to talk to me like that? We have nothing to do,” Elle. Naura looked at him sharply. “Serious,” add Elle. For him, there is no special relationship between them.

“Once again I ask, stay away from Raffi.”

“But what if we don't accidentally meet in a restaurant, for example?” Elle somehow felt amused. And wanted to tease Naura a little. Stay away from Raffi? Who, after all, was chasing him? “Ng, you really love Raffi, huh?”

Elle was curious. Even if he saw Naura's attitude, he shouldn't have asked. Naura did not answer. “But, does he also ... love you?”

“That's no big deal, if there's no bitch like you.”

Elle was supposed to be angry, but she laughed softly. “If he doesn't love you, then,

why force yourself?”

Elle gasped as something cold stuck to her neck. His pulse suddenly pulsed faster. Naura had slashed and pressed a knife.

“I can do anything, as long as you know. To your face. Your body. Or career. Better, be careful what you will do,” hissed.

Elle's stunned. Psychopath. Is this the kind of woman Raffi would marry? Among the adrenaline that was pumped profusely in the blood, there was a speck of unwillingness growing in his heart. How could Raffi choose a woman wrong?

“Remember all right, I never mess with anything I say.” Naura violently releases Elle, pulls the knife from her neck, then breezes away like nothing ever happened.

After her death, Elle slumped on the floor of a cold ceramic toilet. He took the air to fill his suffocating lungs. What the fuck was that? Elle tried to stand up. Although his body was still trembling, he forced his feet to step out. Elle stepped slowly, trying to find her composure again. The hallway around the toilet was indeed quiet. Did Naura really prepare to attack him? Elle was quite surprised by his courage, but he certainly knew the television studio was still crowded at hours like this.

“Elle..

The woman looked over, and smiled with relief. “Mas Rayhan?” sapana.

The man smiled back, but immediately frowned worriedly. “Why are you, sick?”

Elle shakes. “No, Mas, I'm nothing.”

“But why is it pale once?”

Elle raised her eyebrows. “Then anyway, pale? Oh, maybe a tattlement.”

Rayhan looked at the woman doubtfully. “Seriously, you're okay?”

Elle nodded again. “Yes, Mas, I'm nothing.” The man just nodded.

“I heard you didn't accept any more offers on television?” rayhan asked a few moments later.

“Still accept, really, Mas. I just finished taping for next week's show,” reply Elle. Rayhan.

“Not many offers still come to you?”

“Know where?” kanda Elle, while still trying to calm her own feelings.

“I know, lah,” reply Rayhan. “Sadly, if only one talk show, then next you will not often come to the studio,” murmured Rayhan.

Elle then fell silent as if thinking. “Mas Rayhan, can I ask for help?”

Rayhan's expression turned enthusiastic. “Iya, ask for help what?” Elle smiled, usually she never likes to ask others for help. But the events that had just been experienced still shook his soul. Behind the sweet smile he displayed, there was still a trembling in his heart. “Can you please anterin me home?”

Rayhan immediately nodded. “OK. Come on, I'm anter.”

***

Raffi walked out of the elevator. Near the door of Elle's apartment unit, her steps came to a halt. A man came out from there. Raffi was stunned when he recognized her.

They did not know each other, so the man only glanced at him as they passed by. Raffi. This late. What's that guy doing in Elle's apartment?

Raffi is alone at the door. Longtime. He finally pushed the bell there. When the door opened, the moment she saw was Elle's shocked look. But the moment changed, the woman seemed to get annoyed when she saw him.

Despite looking at her, Elle kept opening the door wider. His feet stepped back, giving Raffi a way in. After closing the door, directly walk into the pantry without saying anything. The man just kept quiet, followed him and sat in a high chair in front of the pantry table.

Raffi was still silently staring at Elle who was busy washing in the sink. ‘What Rayhan was also meeting here?’ thought sour.

“Elle?”

“Hmm?” muttered Elle without looking.

“Rayhan was new from here?” ask without further ado. Elle paused for a moment, then resumed her activities.

“Iya.”

“Ngapain him here?” “Not your business.”

“Elle, I asked you carefully why even ketus so?” “He took me home earlier.”

“Cuman nganterin?”

“Iya.”

“Why did you come home once a night?”

Elle put the last cup she washed onto a stainless shelf near the sink, dried her hands and turned to Raffi. His face still looks irritated.

“Why the hell, you wonder so?” ketus Elle's. “Yes, you enter another male here.”

“Then what's the problem? What can't be, if someone comes to visit here? My apartment, why are you the rest? Habits.”

“Elle, aren't you interested, our relationship? Why play with other men?!”

“Eh, you are the one who should remember, if you do not have the right to forbid me!”

“Elle—”

“From you restless, everyone I enter your apartment is noisy, take care of your fiance! Sayin, don't use me to threaten me. ”

Raffi was shocked for a moment.

“What do you mean?” raffi asked, not understanding.

Elle took a quick breath full of emotion then exhaled it violently. “Your engagement threatened me, tell me to leave you. Nempelin knife to my neck!” scream Elle.

“Joking, you must be kidding right?” raffi asked in disbelief.

Elle snorted cynically. “Handering? What's in it for me, ha?!”

Raffi still looked at Elle in disbelief. “Serious Naura threatened you?”

“Iya, no need to be cool especially until nodongin knife to my neck. Basic mental illness!”

“Elle, but—”

“It's been mendingan you go home, Raff, males I see you!”

***

That afternoon after lunchtime, Raffi will step into his office when Citra, his secretary, calls and walks over to him.

“Mas Raffi?” call doubtful. “Yes, Ma'am, what's up?”

The woman, who was five years older than her boss, held out a medium-sized brown envelope. “So someone came to deliver this. And I was asked to give directly to Mas Raffi.”

Raffi received the envelope, frowning. Without name. “Where is this from?” raffi asked, but Citra shook her head. Raffi fell silent, then looked alternately at the envelope in his hand and Citra's face.

“Mbak Citra earlier ... already open this envelope?” tanyakanya.

“No dare, Mas, who delivered half a bit threatening that, do not let me open. Though it should be every letter that goes here I have to sort first before reaching the table Mas Raffi,” explained Citra.

Raffi termangu's. “Yang ngantar was a man what a woman?” “Male.”

Raffi was silent again. Then nod and smile at the image. “Ya. Thanks yes, Ma'am.”

When Raffi turned his back, Citra called him again. “There's Mr. Sandro inside.”

The sandro? Without saying anything else he simply smiled and nodded then rushed into his office.

“Over time, I've been waiting for it too.” A shout greeted him as soon as his hand pushed the door handle open.

Raffi only grinned to find the annoyed face of half-bored men sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Sandro, best friend. A slebor of cafe entrepreneurs and managers of several nightlife venues, as well as a provider of spy services aka private detectives.

“Obviously, meeting with clients,” replied Raffi still with a grin on his face when approaching and sitting on the sofa opposite Sandro.

The tanned man threw a brown envelope on the table. “Tuh, pesenan lo.” Raffi took the envelope. “Secretary you get here gih, bring water. This dry throat from earlier waitin,” grumbled Sandro.

But Raffi sneered as he began to open the envelope Sandro was carrying. “Not mode, bininya the man,” murmured. His best friend had a heart for his secretary.

Sandro just throttled. “Who knows he wants to be with me.”

Raffi did not reply, already busy looking at the photos from the envelope earlier.

“That you hold, a photo from the CCTV footage on the day of the incident.” Raffi was silent. A photo of Naura being caught on camera came out of one of the toilets at the Global Channel studio. Sandro is reliable.

“This ... safe right? This information?” ask Raffi.

Sandro nodded steadily. “Not going to leak to the media, I guarantee.”

Raffi nodded, Elle had already stated that she wanted to quit television. This kind of thing if sniffed media will cause noise that they both do not want. Raffi glanced at the table, where Sandro threw another brown envelope. “Actually, that guy still has some kind of cousin relationship with your fiancee. But bego people also know, cousin doang ya will not get to like his behavior,” said Sandro. Raffi raised his head for a moment, then busied back with the photos. While hearing what other information Sandro got.

“Which I got was authentic proof of your fiancee's infidelity. Unless you are planning to test your mental strength and emotions, I saranin mingling do not open,” Sandro chuckles and then gets up from his seat.

“Where are you going?” ask Raffi.

“Cabut, really if ntar lo gampar use chair. Who knows you emotions abis see those photos.” The man was still stunned as he started walking towards the door. “But if you want, I can finish the men,” he said before closing the door.

Raffi just shrugged his shoulders. Then start opening the envelope and researching one by one dozens of photos contained in it. Sandro sometimes likes to exaggerate. Nothing strange, still appropriate interaction between cousins. There are several photos of them in one car together. Or a picture of them enjoying dinner. Some of their photos are like they are in serious conversation. Maybe if he does love Naura, Sandro's words can only prove true and not excessive. Raffi again observed the photo sheet in his hand, and was immediately stunned to observe the last few photos.

If Naura is in a relationship with another man, then why still insist on continuing their relationship? If Naura is unhappy with him, why not break their relationship first? And threaten Elle?

He didn't plan on investigating the girl to this extent, but Sandro was like that sometimes. Raffi is still confused, looking at the micro SD he found in the envelope containing the photo. He has strong evidence of Naura's affair.

But....

Didn't he actually do the same? Established a relationship with Elle when she was officially in contact with Naura. What difference do the two of them make?

Suddenly Raffi remembered something. Another chocolate envelope that Citra handed to her earlier. Raffi grabbed it, silent for a moment before tearing off the edge of the envelope to open it.

And just on the second photo sheet, the man was stunned. Elle's photo, with Rayhan. Just a few pretty intimate poses, as they held hands, as Rayhan stared at Elle in love, or some other photos that are actually not much different from what is commonly found in gossip tabloids or on the internet. Jaw hardens. What the fuck does this mean?

Raffi shook his head, sighing heavily, closing his eyes before continuing to look at the photo. Up to the last sheet, he finds a message that makes his emotions boil:

“Preferably do not waste yourself in a relationship with a woman who will not choose you. Viewed from any angle, the man is much more everything than you.”