“Morning, his place; burnt toast Sunday. You keep his shirt—he keeps his words.” taylor swift — you are in love

https://open.spotify.com/track/2KrOAg6FftbjgSKdd2a4rS?si=pRjIHRmZTUar4lulUg6n0A

Jakarta’s air is crisp and windy, that night. The speakeasy Antares mentioned was hidden in the nook of a spacious rooftop, somewhere in one of Jakarta’s many skyscrapers. He waited for me in the lobby when I arrived and we proceeded to go up with a silver card. “No one has this card but Milardi,” he told me another fun fact that somehow sent shivers down my spine. So no one—I mean not even one soul—could ever enter this building without a Milardi. Suddenly all the movies I’ve watched about mafias and stuff became so apparent and real.

“What do you want to drink?” He asked when we arrived in front of the bartender. There was only two of us, a bartender, and a waiter. “Anything the bartender recommends.”

“Give her an Antares, then. And I would like a Negroni.”

“An… what?”

Antares smirked. “I have a drink named after me, courtesy of my Father. I made him a cocktail one night and he liked it very much.”

That reminded me of a menu Padre named ‘Oceanna’ when he was asked to cook for a presidential event. One of the minister loved it so much that he asked for that menu, specifically, to be sold in his restaurant. Padre agreed as long as they didn’t change the name—it’s still called Oceanna to this day.

“So… feel free to drink to your heart’s content. Luca here—the bartender—is a very good listener.”

“You’re… going somewhere?” somehow, I could sense a disappointed tone in that question mark. Antares lifted his eyebrow. “Nope… But I guess you’d like to have your space. I guess you didn’t go to your favorite bar coz it’s closed at 12 am so I brought you here. It’s safe. Don’t worry.”

“If I want to have my own space I’d stay at home, sir. You stay here.”

He smiled lightly before he came back to his seat. “So… you want to talk about it, or you just want to drink it away?”

“I need to know how far I told you back then when I was drunk.”

Antares laughed—and somehow, it was kinda hypnotizing to see him let loose like this. “Well, you told me about a guy called Miles and how he asked you to marry him when you’re both 35. You declined the proposal, and man went to Bali and immediately met someone else. And then you wallowed in self-pity and despair.”

Dammit. That’s basically everything. I didn’t know that I’m such an oversharer when I’m drunk.

“So what the man did this time?”

I smiled in bitterness. “He brought the girl here and introduced her to me. And goddamnit—she’s nice. She’s a fan of mine. Like… this is the first girl of his who didn’t hate my guts.”

“I guess he picked you up and the girl was on your seat already?”

I looked at him—half scared, half amused. “Yes.”

“I see. Jadi itu kenapa cookiesnya asin.”