The next morning, the atmosphere at the boarding house felt a little different. Radit Kriting had deliberately been hanging out on the second-floor terrace since seven.
The young man leaned against the metal railing, holding a tin cup while casting sharp glances toward Excel's room.
When the door opened, Ian stepped out wearing a plain shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows. The tall man held Excel's ceramic cup and two sachets of black instant coffee.
Radit immediately straightened up and stared at Ian suspiciously. "Morning, man."
Ian gave Radit a brief glance and the barest nod. "Morning."
"Making some instant coffee?" Radit asked as he stepped closer.
"Yes," Ian replied flatly, walking toward the hot-water dispenser in the corner of the hallway.
Radit folded his arms and stood beside Ian, who was tearing open the sachet with extraordinary precision, following the dotted line without straying even a fraction from it.
"Man," Radit called softly, lowering his voice as though he were leaking a state secret. "Who are you, really?"
Ian paused mid-step. "What do you mean?"
"I've been watching you since yesterday, and your whole vibe is seriously weird," Radit whispered, his face brimming with conspiracy. "A few days ago, I peeked out from my boarding-house room and saw this guy in a neat suit who was supposedly a debt collector, but when Excel went off on him, he started shaking. Then last night, when the power went out, you said you were just guessing... but a technician showed up not long after!"
Ian poured the coffee powder into the cup. "That was just a coincidence."
"There are no coincidences like that!" Radit exclaimed in disbelief. "I'm telling you, you're either an international mafia fugitive in disguise or a secret agent on an undercover mission!"
Ian looked Radit straight in the eye. The icy sharpness of his gaze made Radit suddenly swallow hard.
"You watch too many movies," Ian replied calmly.
"The proof is right in front of me!" Radit said, pointing at the way Ian held the hot-water pot.
Ian poured hot water into the cup in a slow, circular motion, keeping the stream steady so the coffee powder would dissolve perfectly.
He even glanced at his watch to time the steeping for exactly forty seconds before stirring it clockwise three times.
Radit's eyes went wide. "You see that?! You use advanced coffee-brewing techniques for a fifteen-hundred-rupiah instant coffee! You even count the seconds! What ordinary office employee makes instant coffee like that?!"
"This is the proper way to brew it for optimal extraction," Ian replied flatly, as if that were a basic fact of life.
"Extraction?!" Radit cried, growing even more suspicious. "Even the way you talk is weird! Normal people just pour it in, add hot water, stir it with a tablespoon, and call it a day!"
The bedroom door suddenly flew wide open. Excel stepped out, rubbing his still-puffy eyes, his red hair sticking wildly in every direction.
"What's all the noise this early in the morning?" Excel muttered in his signature raspy, just-woke-up voice. "I can hear Kriting running his mouth nonstop."
Radit immediately grabbed Excel by the arm and pulled his friend closer. "Cel! You need to be careful around this friend of yours!"
Excel yawned widely. "What did Ian do this time? Spill the sugar?"
"No!" Radit shouted dramatically. "I think he's either a mafia fugitive or a secret agent on the run! Look at the way he makes coffee! He counts the time, stirs clockwise, and his face is cold as a cold-blooded killer's!"
Excel rolled his eyes wearily. He walked over to Ian and took the cup of coffee the tall man had just finished brewing. Excel took a small sip.
"Hmm, perfect temperature. Tastes good," Excel said simply. Then he looked at Radit with a tired expression. "Dit, you watch too many conspiracy shows late at night. His face really is like an unplastered wall, but he's just an ordinary employee whose lousy luck left him buried in debt."
"But Cel, yesterday when the power went out—"
"Yesterday, when the power went out, that was luck!" Excel cut him off, smacking Radit on the forehead. "Now go back to your room! Don't jinx my lucky charm!"
"I'm serious, Excelian!" Radit insisted, still trying to sway him. "If a helicopter lands on the boarding-house roof to pick him up one of these days, I'll be the first to say, 'I told you so!'"
"Yeah, whatever, Kriting! Go away!" Excel said, forcing Radit backward toward his room.
After Radit disappeared behind his bedroom door, grumbling all the while, Excel let out a long sigh. He turned toward Ian, who was still standing stiffly in front of the dispenser.
"Don't take what Kriting said to heart," Excel said, holding his coffee cup. "His brain's a little scrambled from streaming games until dawn every day."
Ian watched Excel enjoy the coffee he had made. "He isn't entirely wrong."
Excel chuckled. "What do you mean? Are you really a secret agent?"
"No," Ian cut in quickly. "But the brewing method does affect the taste, even if it's only instant coffee."
Excel shook his head, a faint smile curling across his lips. "You're seriously weird. Your clothes are neat, your manner is stiff, and even making instant coffee looks like you're conducting a laboratory experiment."
"You don't like the coffee?" Ian asked, a faint note of concern tucked into his voice.
"It's good," Excel replied honestly, looking at Ian with warm, shining eyes. "Actually, this is the best instant coffee I've ever had. From now on, you're required to make coffee for me every morning, okay?"
Ian subtly puffed out his chest and nodded slowly. "I will make it for you every morning."
"Now that's more like it!" Excel said, giving Ian a light pat on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go inside. The neighborhood chief called earlier and said he was coming over. No idea what he wants."
Ian followed Excel into the room. Deep down, the CEO felt relieved that his disguise had survived.