Marry The Heir
Kean's sorrow

Disa POV.

The arrival of Kak Reza and Clara Davina this afternoon left something stuck in my mind. I'm still in the kitchen, cleaning up our old plates for lunch together. For a moment my gaze was fixed on a plate of rice that was still half full. It is true that Mba Clara did not spend her meal because of her reluctance to sit with me in the same place. Her pretty face turned irritated, like there was a flash of lightning striking as she looked at me cynically.

I smiled crazily as I watched my reflection off the refrigerator glass. The hair in the braid then in the bun, the face pale and sweaty as well as this outfit, the black stellan complete with apron. While he, wearing a dress designed by a famous designer from the city of Paris. Until here I realized, our differences were so far away that it felt like we had no right to breathe the same oxygen let alone eat at the same table. Maybe that's what Clara thought.

I can only breathe deeply. I have made the mistake of shamelessly sitting on equal footing with him and enjoying the same meal.

People say, many artists or figures who experience star syndrome, they feel successful when at the peak of popularity. Could Clara be like that?

Hah, I shook my head to expel those bad thoughts from the contents of my head. It's not my capacity to judge someone's attitude. Moreover, his attitude this afternoon was very reasonable. I have to admit, I still idolize it. The reason for that was because I saw Clara a different figure from other famous people. At that time, there was a first impression attached when first getting to know the star figure that was shining.

In the past, when I first went to design school, Clara's name was shining. I know he's from Rianti who also idolizes Clara. Once upon a time I attended a fashion show where one of the most shining models was Clara. Her figure is beautiful, white, tall and slim as if to be the benchmark of beauty of a woman at that time. As a woman, I admit that she is very beautiful.

But that's not the only thing that made me idolize him. Not only beautiful, ideal body, elegant appearance. At the fashion show, I saw him auction off clothes he had worn and the money he used for charity. Distributing money to the underprivileged and the unfortunate, supporting orphans, becoming donors in some parlors and all the other good things that good-natured fairies do. Everything he did was light and sincere. It was for the kindness of his heart that I began to idolize that model. I started buying magazines that featured her face, I read every article that reviewed her and of course, some of her pretty photos stuck to my bedroom wall.

Damar said, "Lo needs 17 inches to stand equal to Clara Davina. That's why he had to bend a little."

I still remember the phrase from Damar who successfully made my lips pursed. She thought I collected a picture of Clara because I wanted to be like her, but I didn't. I just hope that one day there will be a famous model who will wear my clothes, so that's why I found a new reason to love my lessons.

Not long after the charity work, Clara's figure disappeared. Several magazines and newspapers reported that this beautiful woman was spreading her wings abroad, precisely the land of uncle sam. Reportedly, the international media often covered it and increasingly my admiration for the beautiful woman.

It was only a while ago that I saw a magazine that featured news about Clara being her headline. The kind-hearted woman had already returned and carried the words that made me feel like I had an injection of zeal.

“No dreams are in vain as long as we try to make them happen.” Yes that sentence is still always ringing in my mind and entering into the depths of my heart.

If it's like this now, it's probably my fault that I don't quite know myself in my own position.

Hah, I'm upset with myself. It was supposed to be our first meeting to make a good impression but he came home with an annoyed face.

In between our lunches, Reza tried to make things right. He talked a lot about me and about Clara. But it seems like the story about me isn't interesting enough for a Clara Davina.

“This can be a lecture design loh. And he who designed the clothes the other day in the same naomi. Lo inget right?” reza asked Clara who was playing her food. I know his mood has been freefall.

He nodded with a faint smile. “Yes I saw. Only I prefer quality work, not cheap work.” The ideal lightly.

“Hek!” like my heart in a free kick and out of place when I hear Clara's words. Very sharp in my opinion.

Between sad and disappointed but I try to think that this is constructive input for me. A supermodel who commented on my work, certainly not without reason. Maybe my less worthy work.

“Em, in the future I will improve my design so that it is more feasible mba.” I said in a slightly raucous voice. My confidence dropped dramatically and made me immediately unsure of the race I was in.

“Pront? Anyone else intend to use your design?” this time Clara looked at me cynically. Her lips were smiling but not the smile I expected.

“Em, I..” I can only be bowed lethargic. My energy even runs out just to stare at the soorot his eyes are cant and glittering.

“There will be a time sa, there will be. Claire just excited you again.” Brother Reza who speaks. He touched my shoulder probably meant to encourage me.

I just smiled faintly. I heard Clara clucking, I don't know what she said in her heart. The young master who was in front of me just glanced at me and turned his face back as I tried to smile.

“Still mba clara, input mba clara makes me more excited to do even better.” My dream with great enthusiasm.

Clara just smiled, I don't know what she meant but I know, my words are only considered the wind .

“Can!”

“Ya Me!” I was immediately stunned when I heard that heavy and deep voice. That fast my daydream was gone.

I don't know since when the young master stood there and looked at me with a gaze that I couldn't understand.

I put the bowl that I wiped with a sponge until the bus was very much. “There can I help sir?” my question is smiling. I'm still trying not to look sad. After all, my young master was not obliged to see my disheveled face.

“Bring a snack to my workspace.” the word is light. His voice wasn't as loud as when he called me.

“Ba-good sir. Immediately I prepare.” My heart is sure.

Young master does not chim. He just went up the stairs and disappeared at the end of the stairs.

I left my job in the sink for a while. Preparing a snack for the young master seemed to be able to shift a bit of my mind.

It's late afternoon, soon Maghrib. If this time the young master asked for a snack, maybe he would have dinner too late. Huft, I hope I don't have to accompany her until I finish eating. My feeling was uncomfortable, I wanted to go home immediately and flushed my body with cold water so that my mind would clear again.

Making bitterballen is my snack of choice for young master. Besides making it not too long, this salty food favored the young master. I am getting busy with my work. Peel the potatoes, steam them, mix them with other ingredients and lastly saute the meat. I put a lot of meat into the potato dough. Roll it in wet flour then bread flour. Last time I fried.

The done! Everything is done and not too long. I'm heading to the young master's office. As I was about to knock on the door, I heard the voice of the young master talking on the phone. I stood for a while at my place, undoing my intention to enter and waiting for the young master to finish speaking.

“I know, I miss you too. But it’s just for a while. I'll pick you up soon. Hey, I love you my lady. (I know, I miss you too. But this is only for a while. I'll pick you up soon. Hem, I love you my woman.)”

Although not trying to eavesdrop, the voice of the young master sounded loud. I can feel the longing that is building up in the young master's chest. I don't know who he called but I'm sure she's a woman that young master loves very much.

Hemh, I no longer hear the voice of the young master. Maybe the voice call is over. I tried to sigh deeply then knock on the door slowly, “Master, I am disa.” My word.

“Come.” He's disarming.

I first set my lips to smile when I met the young master. Once ready, I pushed the door open wide.

“Excuse me sir.” I stepped in after asking permission. I saw the young master still standing in front of the window and playing the square object in his hand. His face looked serious with a frown.

I try to ignore what I see, I just put all the snacks on his desk complete with a glass of drink. “Please mr.” My next.

“Hem.” That was the answer without looking at me one bit.

After nodding off, I immediately walked out of his study.

“Can.”

“Yes me.” I stopped my steps then turned back with a smile that automatically curved in my lip line.

He looked at me for a moment with a look I did not understand. I don't know why he looked at me more often without me understanding his point and made me have to think hard to find out what his gaze meant. Sir, don't you know that it adds to my burden?

“After cooking dinner, go home. Rest.” His word. His tone was quite foreign in my ears. Like there's an emergency in it.

“I'm fine sir.” I think I want to say that phrase.

“Good sir.” But in the end, only that word came out of my mouth.

Okay Disa, continue your work and go home soon. I encouraged myself.

I immediately took the groceries in the refrigerator. Cut it, wash it and cook it in hot oil. I do everything quickly. It turns out that when the heart stores resentment, the work becomes faster completed but not necessarily good quality. I'm re-smelling my cooked cooking. I slightly forgot if I had added enough spice or not.

Argghhh!!! I'm upset with myself. One menu I ended up eating alone and it turned out to be true, it tasted bland. Never mind, I'll cook another one. Which is easier and better. Chicken for example.

This time I really focused my mind just on frying the chicken. Make sure no seasonings are missed and within 15 minutes everything is ripe.

Phew, finally. I put all the food on the table. My last job today is done too.

Before going home I chose to pray magrib first because the time is almost up. Yeah, I gotta calm myself down. This is how I heal emotions that sometimes blind the mind.

****

Choosing to go home by bike instead of using a taxi, that's what Disa is doing right now. The night is not too dark because it is only about 7 p.m. Vehicles have also begun to decrease even though they are not too quiet. It still feels like being accompanied, that's what Disa feels right now.

Pedaling his bike casually while enjoying the gusts of the night breeze caressing his face turned out to give its own freshness. Fresh air he can breathe as much as possible to replace the air in his lungs. Being able to slow down his paddling, he still wanted to enjoy his time and calm his mind for longer.

“It's not fun today, just smile. After this, everything will be fine in.” Mumbled to remind himself.

Along the way to the main house, there was much to see. A small light on his right handlebar he turned on to signal another vehicle.

One gust in brought Disa at the end of a smile. If you remember tomorrow, it feels like the spirit is back on fire. There are things that he will do after his efforts these few days he did secretly.

Hah, like a child who hopes tomorrow is coming soon.

“Excitement there, spirit!!!” he involuntarily sped up his bicycle.

In a different place, Kean was still pensively alone in his study while looking at his phone screen. He opened one photo at a time in his cell phone gallery. It's been a long time that photos of him and his parents are stored in his phone memory. The last time he took pictures with his father was when he was in SD first and with his mother, certainly not much different.

Sometimes he smiles as he looks at his young self and laughs cheerfully showing his toothpaste line. But often he pressed the corner of his eye when unconsciously his tears dripped when he realized all just the memories remained.

Now, he could no longer laugh that wide. I don't know when things will improve. I don't know when he'll be back to having parents. Until this moment, everything was empty. Everything was quiet and he was alone.

Finally Kean sobbed in his deep cry. His chest was tight, as if shedding a lot of stones that stuck together with the drops of tears. Since coming home from America, this is his most profound sadness. Longing for memories with people who may have only existed in the past. Yes, the past is too beautiful and sometimes makes him want to stay in that time.

******

Who do you miss young master?