MY LOVELY AUTHOR'S

VICTIMS AND PERPETRATORS IN THE LIFE DRAMA PART 1

  I opened my eyes and immediately smelled a disinfectant that stung my sense of smell. Both my eyes captured the picture of the ceiling in the room I was in, it was just that this ceiling was different from the ceiling I recognized as the ceiling of my apartment. In some of the research I did to create the novel, this situation often appears as a picture when the main character wakes up in the hospital after being unconscious.

            I tried to move my arms and my hands, but my right hand felt a warm grasp there along with the warmth flowing in it. I turned my head to the right side and found that someone was asleep sitting with his head tilted towards me. Him, Arata. Why is he sleeping here?

            In an instant my last memory which was the reason for me being in this foreign room, appeared and twisted it at five times the speed. My encounter with Lisa, my conversation with Lisa about the past, the arrival of Bora that adds to the pressure I feel and finally, Arata who tried to save me before I lost my consciousness. What about the shoot? Is he here because of me and leaving the shoot?

            I remember the last time Arata insisted on going to the hospital and insisted on leaving the shoot just to take me to the hospital. Suddenly my mind made me want to laugh at myself. What are you thinking, Asha??? You're just an acquaintance, just an idol, just a co-worker and neighbor from Arata? It is appropriate. . . Arata is worried about you because you have four positions in his life right now.

            I stared at Arata who was still asleep for a few minutes until Arata's mouth spoke even though both eyes were closed.

            “Am I handsome, Author?”

            I flinched and immediately pulled my hand that was within his grasp, but just like before I always failed to let go of the firm grasp of his hand in mine. The grip was so strong that sometimes I felt like he didn't want me to disappear from his presence.

            “When did you wake up??” I turned to ask Arata.

            “I asked Author first. Am I handsome, Author?” Arata confirmed his sleeping position with his head beside my hand. Now his body was leaning on his chair and several times moving his neck to the right and left to relax his stiff muscles due to falling asleep in a sitting position.

            “Of course you're handsome.  If you are not handsome, you will not be an artist, will not be an actor and will not be judged by many girls and women.”

            While confirming her still stiff neck, Arata made a small smile at the corner of her lips as if feeling a little pride in her. “Then compared to other handsome actors like Winner, Gil and Rangga, who is more handsome, Author?”

            My eyebrows shriveled at his question. I tried to take my hand off her because I wanted to change my sleeping position to a sitting position leaning on the bed. “Arata, your hand. I want to get up and sit down.”

            Hearing my words, Arata immediately let go of his hand grip over my hand and then helped me get up and lean on the bed. After doing that Arata immediately took out two glasses of water and placed them on the table beside my bed.

            “Author hasn't answered me yet. Who is the most handsome?”

            I took a glass filled with water by Arata and drank it. Glek. . glek. . . glek. . after a few gulps, I saw Arata. “Are you a child? Why do you compare your face to someone else's? Are you going to change your face when I say someone else is more handsome than you?”

            “If someone else says it, I won't change my face. But. .. if Author says that other people are more handsome than me, maybe I will be sad and think of the idea to change my face.” Arata spoke in his casual tone as if changing that face was an easy thing to do.

            “Isn't that what you're forcing me to say you're better-looking than other men and actors??” Arata looked at me with a smile on his lips and this time the smile said that what I asked was true.

“It is up to you how Author understands it, but back to the previous question. Am I better looking than them?”

Arata smiled broadly describing his victory this morning. “I'm so happy, Author. My beloved idol says I am the most handsome.”

I took a deep breath hearing the beloved word added in Arata's sentence. “Stop saying that beloved word, Arata! I don't know why I. . feel sorry to hear it!!”

“What's the matter, Author?? Isn't it nice?”

I shake my head in disagreement. “It's not good. Strange when I heard it from your mouth, Arata,”

Bruak. . The door of the room where I was treated suddenly opened and made the door almost hit the wall behind it when it opened. From the door appeared Kak Rama who usually looks full of calm and now looks full of anxiety and worry.

“What happened, Brother?” asked Arata who was similarly surprised by me. “Not usually Big Brother like this?”

“Quick!!! We need to get Miss Asha out of here, Arata!! I got word from my reporter friend who said the reporters were on their way here!”

“Reporter? Here for what?” many confused.

“Let me explain, now we get ready to go first, Miss Asha!”

After that short conversation, Nara-tata Arata came to my room with doctors and nurses to check on me before leaving the hospital and removing the infusion needle stuck in my wrist. After the examination ended, Brother Rama who seemed to have planned this in a short time asked me to wear Nara's clothes and make nara as bait to replace me. Nara will exit with Kak Rama through the front door while Arata and I wearing a disguise just came out through the back door of the hospital where a taxi ordered by Kak Rama was waiting for our arrival.

From behind the window of the taxi, I saw so many reporters gathered around Kak Rama who was carrying Nara who was wearing my clothes to the car where Arata used to ride.

“What really happened?” I asked Arata.

Arata then shows his cell phone where a link emerged from a message sent by Kak Rama. That link connects me to an article released this morning by a certain medium. In the article it is explained that I-Author Wallflower was involved in a school bullying case where I was the perpetrator and not the victim.

My hands shook violently reading the article. My body that was still not in good condition now felt that it had lost all its power again and my legs seemed to tell me to run.

This article. .. says if I was the perpetrator when it actually happened I was the victim. As in many life dramas that have often happened, victims and perpetrators are often confused. The perpetrator yells that he is the victim, yells the thief at others and the corruptor punishes the other corruptors.

Yes. . In many of the life dramas that have happened so often, this has happened so often and it sucks. . . many people just believe the words of one person and participate in turning the victim into a perpetrator just because of the words of one party only.