↷✦; w e l c o m e ❞
After yesterday's embarrassing "Pigeon Rain" incident, Carliam Loise showed no signs of depression. Instead, she stood in their headquarters—Kevin Julio's garage—with her chin held even higher than yesterday.
"Yesterday's failure was just a pilot project," Carliam said, polishing his already shiny loafers. "Today, we're going to do a Grand Rebranding. Anara should see me as a classy man, not a victim of bird abuse."
Justin Darwin unfurled a new map. "The target will be leaving the house at seven o'clock tonight to buy martabak. The strategy is simple: Red Carpet Entrance. Kevin, get your assets ready."
"Ready!" Kevin showed off a roll of red carpet he had 'borrowed' from a former furniture exhibition warehouse. "Liam, you'll stand on this carpet. I'll also lend you this gold watch. Remember, don't let it get wet, it could fade to green in ten minutes."
Amos Adipati looked up from his thick philosophy book. "Remember, Carliam, beauty is symmetry. Don't talk too much. Let the red carpet be a metaphor for your every step, a story."
Night fell. Edwin Albara was already standing by behind the wall of Anara's house, holding the edge of the red carpet with his bulging biceps. His task was simple: As soon as Anara stepped out, he had to unfurl the carpet with one powerful tug so Carliam could walk across it majestically.
"Target out! Now!" Justin commanded through the walkie-talkie.
Carliam stood at the edge of the carpet, posing like an international model. However, Edwin, possessing above-average physical strength but sub-zero accuracy, pulled the carpet with all his force, as if he were pulling a ton of weight.
SCREEEETTT!
Instead of unfurling neatly, the carpet was pulled too fast. Carliam, who was posing elegantly, suddenly lost his balance. He was thrown into the air like a failed circus performer, landing squarely inside the martabak (a type of pancake) cart parked in front of Anara's house.
PYAARR!
Carliam landed face down in a large basin filled with sweet martabak batter. Elio Adibrata, who had been sleeping beside the cart while waiting in line, was awakened by the violent shaking.
"Oh... the martabak is ready?" Elio asked half-consciously, staring at Carliam's head, now covered in butter and peanuts.
Anara stood frozen in the doorway. "Carliam? Why... are you in the martabak batter?"
Carliam slowly rose from the basin. Although his face was white with flour and covered in chocolate sprinkles, he still calmly adjusted his shirt collar. He stared at Anara with a deadly, margarine-smeared stare.
"Anara, do you know why this martabak is sweet?" Carliam's voice remained steady and arrogant. "Because he feels intimidated by my presence. I just wanted to personally verify the quality of your snack tonight."
Anara couldn't hold back any longer. She laughed so hard she held her stomach. "You really are the most magical 'big brother' ever!"
Behind the bushes, Justin broke his pencil. Kevin lamented over his watch, now submerged in the batter, and Amos began to ponder a tragic fate.
Carliam returned Anara's laughter with a faint smile. However, as Anara turned to pay for the martabak, Carliam suddenly gripped the edge of the cart. His flour-covered face turned deathly pale. He coughed, and this time, a red stain appeared between the white batter on his hand.
He quickly wiped his hands with the cart's dirty napkin before his friends approached. Carliam's confidence was still sky-high, but he knew fate was counting down every foolish step he took.