HAPPY IS LIGHT

Far away Empty me

Prada wiped the sweat that ran down the face to wet his dark shirt. The more the back of his hand sweeps the sweat, the more the volume of sweat that seeps through the pores of the skin. The arrangement of the dirty dishes of the former guests that are mountainous has been rinsed completely. Prada arranged it on its stomach to dry quickly in a special place.

The next pile of dirty cups landed sweetly in the wash thwarting Prada's activity of flexing the muscles. Employees in charge of maintaining cleanliness in the cafe showed off their thumbs before returning to work.

A pair of burly hands of Prada connected the agile dance under the splash of tap water that had been held back after pouring a pile of ceramic cups with soap foam. Then put the stomach next to it if it feels bad.

A twenty-year-old youth immediately completed a task relay from the High School boy next to him. The right fingers covered in washcloths rotate inside the cup hull. Curly-haired young man gondrong, pale skin and round face. He is an eternal student who is ready to be thrown if he is not able to finish the lecture.

Phoe-G named Prada's team-mate in eradicating germs and cutlery bacteria. They joined the bakery lecker family just one day apart.

Phoe-G put down the last dry cup. He watched Prada who looked exhausted.

Phoe patted his partner's shoulder. "Master Pre, are you sick?"

Prada turned his head for a moment to shake his head then poured liquid soap in the container.

Phoe greeted a male servant who had just set foot in the kitchen and received a mountain of dirty dishes.

Phoe offended Prada's ribs. His shoulders shifted Prada's position until it moved from the face of the sink.

Prada looked astonished. Highlight his pair of ocean irises full of question marks. Somehow Prada was reluctant to speak, in contrast to his always cheerful identity.

"You're like carrying a heavy load. Tonight was a visitor twice from the previous night. Because there is an introduction to traditional snacks. I don't want anything to happen. We'll change positions, Mr. Pra!" phoe answered Prada's confusion.

Prada nodded slowly. His fingers reached for a special washcloth that was blown between the rows of cups and plates.

Phoe turned to Prada who was caught daydreaming. "What are you thinking exactly? You seem to be agitated. Tell me! I'm ready to hear."

Prada is back. "I'm fine, Mr. Phoe!"

Phoe gave a long sigh. His right fingers immediately turned the tap after burying a mountain of dirty cutlery with abundant foam.

The clattering of pantofel shoes caught the attention of two young men who were immersed in their own thoughts. Some assistant cooks who passed by while picking up the tableware, gave a moment's greeting.

The young manager approached Prada. The man was always clad in a neat and charismatic suit.

Prada smiled heavily in greeting him. While Phoe-G throws a witty salute with foam droplets in his palm.

Arco patted Prada's shoulder. "I ask you a favor, Mr Prada! Immediately change clothes with the uniform of the waiter and help the service team that I'm losing because of the lack of people."

Prada must have nodded. The only answer without burden. The right decision without debate. He had no choice and no intention of choosing. He was not excited to hear the description of additional tasks. Let him flow for now without thinking. Let for tonight his mind cast off all hope.

"Then how am I, Mr Manager?" tanya Phoe lamented her fate that would be a single player in the dishwasher stage.

Arco smile. "I'm asking one cleaning staff to help here."

Phoe's black eyes sparkle. "Satur thank you, Mr. Kak Manager Arco" he said.

Arco nodded before passing with Prada behind his back.

Prada has neatly clad in orange short-sleeved shirts, dark aprons accessories and an inverted black hat. The palm of the right hand holds the tray containing the order table number seventeen. Two bitter coffees and several kinds of traditional snacks.

Looking at the Lecker Bakery that is so broad and dense as if to drain the after-sore in his head. I don't know where his pair of heels are going. Prada does not yet know which order the customer table starts from which side.

A moment of bright iris observing. Finally he discovered the fact about the order of table numbers starting from the entrance threshold.

Prada stepped rhythmically among the sea of humans cramming the room. Queue snaking until it meets the gap between the tables. His lips muttered the basic count to the purpose before his eyes.

A friendly smile accompanies greetings for two guests. He immediately presented the order carefully.

Prada looked polite. "Thank you for your order. Happy enjoying!"

The crisp sound of one of the two adult women about a quarter of a century held back Prada's nearly passing steps.

Prada turned. His blue glances recorded one by one. "There's an additional order, brother?"

The two beautiful women looked at each other. A purplish red-haired stumped a smile.

"You new here?" ask the lady a purple red graded hair to mince.

Prada nodded politely.

The navy lady giggled like a rented child winning the lottery. "That means every night I get to see this big brother, right?" chirps.

Prada smiled stiffly. His right fingers scratched his clumsy nape.

Prada clasped a pair of palms in front of his chest. "I'm Prapto, Brother! I'm not here every day because I'm still at school, sister!"

The two beautiful women looked at each other. "Well, brondong. Exotic names," they chirped.

At the corner of Prada's lips were raised in wonder.

"No girlfriend yet, huh? Definitely not yet, right? Still in school is likely still single." asked the navy forced hope.

"Sorry, brother! I already have a lover," Prada replied firmly.

The two put on a broken face of love, despair and grief.

"It's a shame, yes," said the two-colored hair.

His friend nodded. "That's lucky for your girlfriend. Are you schoolmates?"

Prada is starting to get caught up. He thought he could honestly end this meaningless interview. But the question and answer session continued.

"Yes, but he has left me." said Prada

Both women were shocked. "What's? Mana may be a handsome bule abandoned his girlfriend. She's a popular girl, surely, huh? It could throw a protected population away."

Prada curses his mouth. Somehow the slope of his brain gets steeper to pour out tired hearts on strangers. It was devastating to her dignity as a charming young man.

Prada. "She's an ordinary girl, brother. It's just that I never admitted to being a lover until she left."

The bright purple red hair scratched his temple. "If you don't admit it, why did you say you had a boyfriend?"

Prada looked deeper. "I'm sorry, Brother! So in this mind and heart I am still her lover."

The hands of the two held each other. "It's so sweet.." praise the two in unison.

Prada bowed lightly before excusing himself. Prada rushed over without ignoring the two clinging sounds that were shouting his name.

When the retina is stretched, the steps are restrained and the lips are vibrating, the shadow of the figure is printed large. In front of the cashier's table stood a petite girl in a long skirt and short-sleeved top. Both sides of her hair were neatly curled. Although only a portion of his pale face was visible, Prada's vision and memory were still healthy to summon the memory in his mind.

Prada not only felt sure that the girl who was having a serious conversation with Manager Arco must be the one who had been hurt, but also believed in his heartbreak.

Both of Prada's knees were shaking. For a while his feet were like they were attached to the spot until the figure passed down the hallway to the restroom.

Prada hurried to follow him. His arm immediately grabbed the girl's shoulder when there was no longer any significant distance between them.

The girl turned around. Her sweet taste wailed in wonder.

The rhythm of one Prada heartbeat feels discordant. It is painful to know that hope does not match what lies ahead.

Prada swallowed his panicked saliva. "I'm sorry, Miss! I thought you were Hanna."

The lips of the mature brown-skinned girl curled sweetly. "You're looking for Hanna, aren't you?"

Prada stiffening.

Age is visible on the face of the girl. The mature aura far exceeded Hanna's.

The woman extended her right hand. "Include ... I'm Martania. Just call Nia. I'm marketing at lecker bakery. So I rarely look because I have to take care of the promotional bazaar in various places. You're our new member, huh?"

Prada briefly shook the hand presented before him. "Yes. I'm Prada, Miss Nia."

The woman in two traced the appearance of a dozen youths before her before sighing long. "Hanna it never takes hours of night work. You're a schoolmate?"

Prada smiled miris. "Be closer than friends, Miss! In the past month we have been working the same hours. We're in the afternoon."

Nia raised her next to her eyebrows. "Near friend? I know the Eagle is the only young man close to Hanna."

Prada's almost missed speech restrained his senses. He could not possibly spit out reproach in such a courtesy environment. One name that made his head erupt. Hawks. The kind and calm man who had been in his guidance all this time. Karateka is talented on her level.

"You know ... The hawk?" questions are full of emphasis at the end of the sentence.

Nia folds arms. "Of course, the bakery lecker family may not have known him. He is the second son of the most expensive smart lawyer in the western region. Mr. Raven is also a lawyer for lecker bakery."

Prada looked down inside. Even when Martania excused herself, the young man only nodded weakly. It is not time to cultivate the head only for the Eagle. There is something else in the dream. Prada believes the blue ocean is still sane. The girl who was discussing with Manager Arco looked like Hanna. Hanna is milk-skinned. But why when overtaken in the hallway of the restroom is different.

***