That fateful night in Jakarta was enveloped in the relentless downpour of heavy rain, as though the heavens themselves were shedding tears, releasing a torrent of sorrow that cascaded from the clouds like a thick, cold curtain of water, effectively isolating the frenetic energy of the city from the intimate world contained within Clara's car cabin. After hours spent engaged in fervent and hopeful debate at a cozy cafe nestled in the Tebet area, the two friends had finally made the decision to return home. The subject of their passionate discourse was far from trivial; it revolved around their future careers, posing a difficult juxtaposition for Bima between accepting a contract to play for the Bochum II football club—a seemingly golden opportunity that shone brightly in his eyes—or choosing to devote himself to academic pursuits, specifically by advancing his doctoral studies at the prestigious University of Indonesia. Meanwhile, Clara found herself wrestling with a similarly weighty dilemma: she faced the enticing prospect of prestigious scholarship opportunities that would allow her to study in the Netherlands or remaining steadfast in her commitment to a local clinic where she felt she could make a difference. The atmosphere inside Clara's vehicle was laden with tension, the air thick and moist, as the air conditioning had been turned off to prevent the windshield from fogging up due to their anxious breaths. Clara gripped the steering wheel with a mix of determination and frustration, her car trapped in a sea of vehicles crawling at a snail's pace along the heavily congested Jalan Sudirman. The gridlock outside mirrored the feeling of paralysis that both Clara and Bima were experiencing as they stood at a crossroads, debating significant choices that would shape their futures.
In the passenger seat, Bima reached out to wipe the condensation from the window, attempting to peer through the thick glass at the glimmering city lights that struggled to shine through the heavy deluge of rain. "It's really coming down out there, isn't it? Feels like the rain is watering my chaotic thoughts," he remarked with a hint of laughter, trying to infuse levity into an otherwise tense moment.
Clara allowed herself a slight smile in response to his attempt to ease the atmosphere, though internally she battled a torrent of emotions that kept her heart in a state of unrest. Her eyes remained glued to her phone screen, which proudly displayed the notification of a scholarship email received that very afternoon, its astonishing title reading, "CONGRATULATIONS: Full Scholarship Awarded." "Bima, I find myself feeling just as confused. I got the scholarship, which means I'll be heading to Utrecht this August to conduct research on community trauma with an NGO in Europe. But… all of this feels almost hollow if you aren't here to celebrate with me and cheer me on from the sidelines." Her words hung heavy in the air, filled with a sense of longing for companionship.
With a look of earnest consideration, Bima turned to face Clara fully, revealing the depth of his own turmoil. "I understand completely. Earlier this afternoon, Bochum II called me. They pushed for a prompt decision—essentially giving me a deadline to sign the contract before next week, or risk having my position filled by someone else. The coach is all praise; he describes me as the Indonesian soccer star they have been seeking, even going so far as to affectionately liken me to 'our Indonesian Haaland, but smarter.' With a salary of €3,500 a month and complimentary accommodations, this is no light consideration; it's a serious opportunity, a significant leap that could demonstrate the world the potential of Indonesian soccer talent."
Clara listened intently, nodding slowly, her left hand instinctively reaching out to rest gently on Bima's warm hand as a gesture of unwavering support. "You absolutely deserve this chance, Bim. Your knee has healed fully, and your playing vision has matured to a level that I can confidently say you're ready for this. And don't forget about the offer from UI—they're providing a permanent lecturer position focusing on earthquake-resistant bridge research, which could lead to a stable and impactful career. I know your mother would be overwhelmingly proud if you chose that path, and… most importantly, so would I. Just think about it, we're officially dating now, and honestly, I would be willing to postpone my departure to the Netherlands for another year. I have confidence I could find work as a psychologist in Germany, enabling us to support each other in our pursuits."
Taking a deep breath in an effort to steady his racing heart, Bima tenderly rubbed Clara's back as he spoke. "Clara… those dreams have crossed my mind too. I picture you in the stands at Bochum, wearing a blue scarf, cheering me on as I score a goal and sprint directly toward you afterward. Conversely, I envision life here in Jakarta, where I teach in the mornings while you provide counseling in the afternoons, and we come together to share dinner in the evenings. But the truth is, I'm terrified—terrified that we might make the wrong choice, leading to regret on one of our parts. I have a profound fear of becoming an 'obstacle' to my ambitions and I dread that you could become a 'victim' of this situation."
As an overwhelming silence enveloped the car cabin, the temperature continued to drop, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts; the only sound was that of the windshield wipers diligently swiping away the relentless rain. Clara leaned in close, nearly touching Bima's face, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "Our promise made on Pulau Seribu remains steadfast, right? We'll nurture our relationship clandestinely, offering support to one another without imposing our desires upon one another."
Bima nodded slowly, closing the distance with Clara as he leaned in for a gentle kiss filled with the unexpressed promises and hopes for their future. "Promise me, Clara. But first, tonight… let's take some time to celebrate. Your scholarship was approved, and the contract is right within our reach. How about we stop by my house? My mom is cooking her special chicken opor."
A smile spread across Clara's face, and she slowly started the car as the traffic began to inch forward. "Sounds perfect, but we must be clever about keeping this under wraps from Aiden, okay? He's off in Germany and let's keep it that way for now."
Upon arriving at Bima's home, they were greeted by the enticing aroma of chicken opor and fresh sambal goreng ati wafting through the air, inviting warmth and comfort that significantly lightened the mood. Bima's mother embraced Clara tightly, an expression of relief washing over her face as if to alleviate months of longing. "Clara! It's been far too long since I last saw you. Have a seat, and please eat plenty. Bima mentioned that you're striving to pursue your doctorate abroad. Is that true?"
"Yes, Auntie, I just received wonderful news about a scholarship to the Netherlands," Clara replied graciously as she settled down at the dining table, which had been lovingly prepared with a feast.
Bima's mother lit up at the news, her eyes sparkling with pride as she heard this. "That's brilliant! Bima should take note from you, he ought to focus more on academics and not just soccer all the time. A doctorate from UI would indeed be a commendable achievement, son."
Bima, with a thoughtful expression, pinched a piece of opor and contemplated carefully, "Yes, Mom, but Bochum II is urging me to make a quick consideration on a professional contract. I'm weighing my options right now."
Bima's mother furrowed her brow, concern etched on her face as she deliberated her son's path. "Bima, remember that sports are a fleeting affair, son. Look at Clara—she's dedicated to her education. You ought to be inspired by her ambition."
Hastily noting the shift in energy, Clara interjected, eager to maintain the warmth and camaraderie of the gathering. "Auntie, Bima is actually truly gifted in soccer. His talent could easily blend a professional career with continued studies online. I wholeheartedly support him in that endeavor."
Bima's mother smiled at this show of support, yet her gaze remained fixed on Bima, revealing a mother's deep-seated concern. "You two are so compatible. You've shared a bond since childhood… don't tell me…"
As their eyes met, Bima and Clara exchanged an amused glance before bursting into shy laughter. "We're just friends, Mom," Bima replied quickly and with casual nonchalance.
The delightful reunion continued late into the evening, transitioning to the back porch of Bima's home, where the heavy rain began to taper off, leaving behind a gentle drizzle that enveloped them warmly in the comforting night air. They situated themselves together on a handmade bamboo swing, snuggling under a thick blanket for added warmth. Clara rested her head on Bima's shoulder, feeling the contentment of being together. "Tomorrow, I have an important meeting with an NGO in Jakarta regarding the volunteer clinic. What about you? Do you have a Zoom meeting with the Bochum agency as well?"
"Yes, I do. At 4 p.m. I'd appreciate your support and prayers," Bima said, drawing Clara closer in a comforting embrace.
Looking adoringly into Bima's eyes, Clara replied, "Without a doubt, Bim. But if you ultimately decide to sign with Bochum, promise me that I can visit you in Germany? I've already envisioned us wandering through the Black Forest, where you share your soccer strategies and I fill you in on the stories of my patients."
Bima gently pressed a soft kiss onto Clara's forehead and lips, sealing their promises with tenderness. "I promise, Clara. If you start your journey in the Netherlands, I will come to visit you. We can make sure to make the best of it, turning Europe into our second home."
Just then, Bima's phone vibrated audibly, signaling an incoming call from Aiden, their close mutual friend. With a sense of urgency, they quickly composed themselves; Clara instinctively slipped into hiding to avoid detection, while Bima raised his hand, signaling that he was alone as he answered the call.
"Hey, Den! Just relaxing tonight," Bima greeted Aiden with warmth evident in his voice.
On the other end, Aiden's face appeared, slightly haggard yet radiating joy. "You're still awake? I just wrapped things up at the campus gym after practice. Fantastic news—I passed my AI project's final audit last night!"
Excitedly, Bima let out a cheer. "That's absolutely fantastic! I'm at home right now, and with this rain, it's a cozy time spent with Clara… uh, she just stopped by briefly but has headed home."
Clara flashed a thumbs-up along with a smile from behind the screen, and thankfully, it seemed Aiden suspected nothing out of the ordinary. "Awesome! By the way, I already bought my tickets for the summer back to Jakarta. Let's hit the field together again—help me become a playmaker!"
Bima laughed conspiratorially. "Absolutely! I'll assist you with passing, you'll score the goals."
Following their jovial exchange, Bima concluded the call and Clara stepped back into view; she immediately enveloped Bima in a warm hug, planting soft kisses on his lips as relief washed over her. "It's safe. Our secret remains intact."
However, as Clara departed, Bima stood alone, gazing thoughtfully into the darkened night sky, where uncertainty clouded his thoughts. "Which path should I pursue—the contract or the academia? Will Clara remain here, or will she journey far away? How long can we keep this blossoming relationship a secret?"
The following day dawned bright and clear, and the Bochum agency pinged him once more via Zoom: "Bima, it's time to finalize your signing. The team is eagerly awaiting your decision."
Bima found comfort in gazing at the photograph of Clara on his phone, seeking inspiration. "Hold on a moment. I need just one more day to think this over."
The narrative closes with a vivid scene of Bima playing soccer on a quiet futsal field in the village, vigorously kicking the ball toward an empty goal. Their relationship remains safely under wraps for the time being, yet the pivotal moment of decision looms ever closer—will he choose the allure of Bochum or the familiarity of Jakarta? And will Clara venture to the Netherlands or choose to stay here by his side? Aiden's summer visit approaches, leaving the question of whether their secret can withstand the test of time lingering heavily in the air.
***
The morning in Germany felt colder than usual, an almost biting chill amplified by the brisk winter wind that cut through Aiden's thick jacket, leaving him feeling uncomfortably exposed. Each of his hurried steps towards the research laboratory seemed to do little to ward off the freezing air that penetrated his skin, while a thin, delicate layer of snow stuck stubbornly to his shoes, creating a trail of wet footprints across the polished floor of the campus lobby, which bore an air of grandeur and was imbued with a bustling academic atmosphere. With a sense of purpose, Aiden tightly clutched a laptop bag in his right hand that housed the latest slides for a highly anticipated internal company demo, a responsibility that weighed heavily on his shoulders and required him to be thoroughly prepared. In his left hand, he held a bottle of steaming black coffee that was still warm to the touch, though it was gradually losing its heat as the relentless cold of the day wore on. However, Aiden's thoughts were not solely consumed with the intricate AI code he was set to present at today's significant meeting. Instead, his mind was troubled by a strange and persistent premonition that had been nagging at him since the night prior, triggered by a video call with Bima who appeared to be far too relaxed, in a manner that struck Aiden as unsettling.
As he stepped into the elevator, Aiden found himself muttering softly, slowly analyzing the situation, "Why do they seem so close lately?" Memories flooded back to the snapshots in their group chat: images of Bima and Clara enjoying each other's company in a cozy cafe, walking together under the soft glow of Ancol's lights, and even lounging comfortably on the terrace of Bima's home, laughing and enjoying life. "Old friends reuniting, it's perfectly normal," he thought, desperately trying to convince himself, even though he found it increasingly difficult to dismiss the gnawing discomfort that seemed to linger just out of reach in the corners of his mind. The secret of being a playmaker that he had kept tightly guarded made him more acutely aware of "something hidden" lurking behind the veil of their seemingly ordinary friendship.
Upon arriving at the lab, Aiden was greeted by the cheerful spirits of his team, who were already gathered in anticipation. His lead engineer, Hans, welcomed him with a broad smile brimming with uncontainable optimism. "Aiden, today's demo is crucial! The director and CEO are coming from Berlin. If you nail this, your federated learning model could secure us the national hospital tender!"
Aiden nodded, feeling the weight of anticipation as he quickly opened his laptop, fully prepared for the moment. "I'm ready. The accuracy stands at a remarkable 97%, and we've implemented a zero-knowledge proof method to ensure total privacy and data security. Today, we will be demonstrating how real-time burnout predictions can be generated from simulated data representing 10,000 employees."
The demonstration unfolded seamlessly, impressing everyone across the room. The large projection screen displayed a striking green graph that rose steadily, accompanied by a comprehensive mental health risk heatmap and personalized recommendations: "Recommendation: 3 days of leave plus counseling." The CEO, visibly impressed, applauded Aiden with an unmistakable admiration in his expression. "Excellent work, Aiden. This tender will undoubtedly be ours, and I assure you, your bonus this year will be doubled."
The team erupted in celebration, enjoying hot coffee and sweet strudel—symbols of relief, triumph, and shared achievement after what had been a stressful period of preparation. Yet, despite the euphoria surrounding him, Aiden's heart remained restless, haunted by his earlier thoughts. During a brief break, he decided to reach out to his friends through the group chat: "Guys, my project just won a big tender! What are you two up to? I miss Jakarta so much."
Bima responded quickly, his message infused with enthusiasm: "Great job, Den! I'm practicing futsal in the village. Clara... um, she's at an NGO meeting."
Clara also chimed in: "Congratulations! I'll be free this afternoon. Let's call each other later, okay?"
Aiden found himself staring at the chat screen, lost in thought. "Futsal practice... Clara is free... oddly resembling a scripted excuse?" The weight of his growing premonition tightened its grip on his mind, making it spin with doubt and suspicion.
That afternoon, he decided to hit the campus gym—a crucial part of his secret training regimen designed to mold him into a playmaker as usual. It was an outlet where he could steer all of his energy and anxiety with laser focus. He dribbled the ball confidently through a series of cones, executed long passes to empty targets, and mentally simulated perfect midfield control, picturing Bima as a striker and Clara cheering from the stands. Suddenly, the imaginary scenario shifted—"Wait, why is Clara in the Bochum stands?" Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, he compelled himself to refocus before delivering a powerful kick to the ball. "Focus, Den. Keeping your secret is already challenging enough without these distractions."
Later that afternoon, he attended a meeting with Professor Elena. "Aiden, I have great news! NeurIPS Paris is confirmed. Your keynote on 'Ethical AI in Mental Health: The Indonesian Perspective' is truly impressive. I'm proud of you!"
"Thank you so much, Prof. But... right now, I'm considering taking a summer vacation to Jakarta. I want to reconnect with old friends, play some soccer, and really just enjoy life."
Prof. Elena raised her eyebrows in surprise at his unexpected plan. "Soccer? I thought you were an AI specialist! But I suppose a balance is necessary. Just don't end up like your friend Bima, who sustained an injury from overtraining."
Aiden's curiosity piqued at her comment. "Prof, you know Bima?"
Prof. Elena chuckled lightly. "I keep track of your social media; it's hard not to notice! I saw his training story. So, you were part of that legendary trio back in college? Playmaker, striker, counselor."
All Aiden could muster was a bitter smile in response. "Yeah. But now... it seems like things have changed."
Later that night in Indonesia, coinciding with daytime in Germany, their group video call commenced. Bima and Clara appeared on the screen, seated in Clara's car, the vibrant and bustling night scenes of Jakarta serving as an energetic backdrop. "Hello, Den!" Bima greeted him, his voice bursting with enthusiasm and energy.
Aiden's eyes darted to where they were positioned: Clara was driving, and Bima was sitting close enough that their hands were nearly brushing against one another on the gearshift. "Hello, guys! Are you two in the car? Where are you headed?"
Clara replied a little hurriedly, "Um, I'm going home after having dinner out. Jakarta is really congested tonight."
Bima added to the conversation, "Yes, that's standard for Jakarta. How's everything with the tender on your end?"
Aiden recapped his successful demo and the golden opportunity at NeurIPS, but his intuition nagged at him, whispering suspicion with each passing moment. "Uh, Bima, is Bochum confirmed yet? And what about Clara's scholarship?"
Bima paused for a moment, carefully considering his answer before responding, "I'm contemplating it. If Clara gets accepted to the Netherlands."
Clara chimed in with a hopeful: "Yes. I'll be flying out in August."
Feeling a gnawing curiosity, Aiden decided to address the elephant in the room directly: "You guys have been meeting up quite a lot lately. It feels like... more than just friends?"
An awkward silence descended upon them, lasting several agonizing seconds that felt drawn out and tense. Finally, Bima laughed nervously in an attempt to break the tension. "Haha, what are you so suspicious about? We're just old friends catching up."
Clara quickly interjected, "Yes, Den. Don't overthink it. Just concentrate on your NeurIPS presentation."
Aiden forced a smile, attempting to ease the atmosphere. "Alright, alright. It was just a hunch. When I come back to Jakarta this summer, let's definitely play some soccer. I'll be the playmaker, and Bima, you can score the goals."
Bima nodded eagerly in agreement. "Deal! Clara will be the referee."
As the call ended, Aiden sat there, staring at the now-dark screen, his heart racing. "They're hiding something. What's really going on between them? Do they have a secret like mine too?"
In the heart of Jakarta, Bima and Clara were left in a state of panic upon reading Aiden's message. "Damn, he's raising suspicions!" Bima exclaimed, beads of cold sweat forming on his brow.
Clara attempted to soothe him, "Our secret is beginning to crack. If Aiden comes back this summer, everything might be revealed."
The scene fades with Aiden in a dimly lit lab, AI code illuminating the darkness of the screen, yet his thoughts drift away, conjuring images of green grass and the secrets of his closest friends. The vague sense of premonition has now crystallized into an unsettling reality—their truth is on the verge of being exposed, and the impending reunion is creeping ever closer to its unavoidable and explosive conclusion.