Dew had settled on the glass windows, making the night a little colder. Soft golden light hung between the wooden ceiling, natural-stone walls, and floor. It also cast a warm glow across the wooden tables.
On one side of the room, a small stage displayed several of the instruments it had to offer; a black grand piano had long occupied the right side, a drum kit rested at the back, while a violin and an acoustic guitar leaned against their stands, side by side directly in front of the vocalist's chair.
Not far from the stage stood a table that Elena Maris and her best friend, Maya Anindita, always occupied. On the table, a device lay open beside a coursework book and several sheets of paper. Their table was positioned strategically enough to let them experience two atmospheres at once: the warmth inside the room and the coolness outside.
Elena stared intently at her screen while Maya read an academic journal filled with tiny scribbles in the margins.
"May, check this out," Elena said without looking away.
"According to the theory of relativity, time doesn't actually pass the same way for everyone."
Maya nodded slowly, still focused on the page in front of her.
"I just read a study about memory, too. Apparently, what we remember isn't a perfect recording. The brain reconstructs memories every time we recall them."
Elena stopped typing.
"So... every time we remember the past, there's a chance the memory changes a little?"
"Yeah," Maya replied, pointing to one of the journal pages.
"The more often a memory is recalled, the more likely its little details are to shift. We feel like we're remembering the same event, when really, the brain is rebuilding the story."
Elena smiled faintly.
"Interesting. So time changes the world, while memory changes how we see it."
Maya closed her journal.
"Maybe that's why two people who experience the same thing can have completely different stories."
Elena resumed typing on her laptop.
"Then if time determines when an event happens, memory is what determines how that event will be remembered."
Only a few tables away, a grown man sat alone. A cream shirt and dark trousers covered his body, his curly hair slightly brushing his collar, while an old leather jacket hung over the back of his chair. Every so often, he took a sip of the hot coffee in front of him, then returned to studying the screen of his device, absorbed in the atmosphere of his favorite café. He had no idea that the two students from the same university had been sitting nearby for quite some time. Elena and Maya were completely unaware, too, that the man was Arkian Mahendra, the music professor they often encountered on campus.
The stage lights gradually dimmed. The customers' conversations died down as a man stepped up and greeted the microphone.
"Good evening, everyone..."
"...How's everyone doing tonight? Hope you're all doing well." He gave a thumbs-up.
"Good... good!" several customers called out.
"That's what we like to hear," he replied with a smile.
"Okay, without further ado, we have a guest tonight who's going to sing us a song."
Several pairs of eyes turned toward the stage—some people shook their heads with quiet laughter, while others didn't care much.
Elena was in the latter group. She was still busy with her device, already used to moments like this at their favorite café. Maya was different, though. She always made time to watch whenever a customer performed on the spur of the moment.
But tonight, her expression shifted slightly when a man stepped onto the stage.
"Huh?..."
"That guy's got some nerve."
Before Elena could ask what was going on, the host announced the name first.
"Nathan Arka!"
Elena instinctively raised her head. She recognized the name. Her eyes widened.
"Nathan?!"
Nathan lived in another city, far from the city where Elena attended college. Flying was obviously much faster than traveling by land, which could take almost an entire day.
There had been no message. No word that he was coming. And certainly no plan to meet. So how could Nathan be standing here tonight?
Nathan stood in front of the microphone, his face slightly tense.
"Okay, Nathan," the host greeted him with a smile.
"What song are you going to sing?"
"A song nobody knows," he answered briefly, accompanied by a small smile.
The host looked a little surprised, then asked another question.
"Oh, okay, okay... who is this song for?"
"Someone," Nathan answered, still a little nervous.
"Wow, you've really got some nerve, huh?" the host joked.
Several customers cheered, while some laughed softly—including Maya, who giggled, and Elena, who laughed along, amused by Nathan's audacity.
"Go for it, bro!" someone shouted from the back.
"Wait, what are we going to hit?" the host shot back.
"His teeth, or his skin?"
Laughter broke out, loosening the atmosphere that night.
"Okay, okay, Nathan. So that person is here tonight?" the host asked again.
Nathan drew a slow breath, still wrapped in nervousness.
"Um... yeah. She's here."
Several customers looked around curiously.
The smile Elena had been holding back finally bloomed across her face, coloring her cheeks faintly red. She let out a small laugh, covered her face, then rested it on the table over both her palms.
"Can you tell us her name?" the host asked.
Seeing Elena bow her head shyly, Nathan didn't want to say the person's name.
"Maybe later," he replied with an amused smile, tickled by how funny the situation was.
Elena raised her head again and smoothed her fine hair.
A moment later, someone called out mischievously.
"Woo-hoo... kissy-kissy!"
Elena had been smiling as she watched Nathan, but now she began to suspect her best friend. She turned toward Maya, narrowing her eyes slightly. Her gaze was full of questions.
Seeing Elena's expression, Maya immediately realized she needed to explain, but for some reason, time demanded that she hurry. In the end, she slowly raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Sorry... hehehe," she said with a guilty grin.
"Nathan only asked, 'Where are you guys?' So I just told him." She went on to explain.
Elena shook her head slowly.
"Maya, Maya..."
But no matter what, she couldn't lie to her heart, which was secretly happy that Nathan had come that night.
"Still... that was pretty bold," she murmured.
Elena watched Nathan, who had now taken a seat on the stage. She leaned back, crossed her arms, and smiled.
Meanwhile, at the table behind them, Arkian glanced toward the stage for a moment, then went back to sipping his coffee and sinking into his device. To him, this was just another example of a young man acting recklessly while drunk on love.
Onstage, Nathan took a long breath—he was still nervous, but his resolve was firm. He began strumming the guitar and singing.
"Algorithms don't align..."
"Not even the genre..."
Fighting through his own nerves, Nathan kept singing with a smile, looking straight at Elena from the stage. Elena looked back at him, as if she didn't want to miss even a single second.
That night truly became a surprise for Elena. The face and voice that had always been separated from her by considerable distance now felt more real, right there in front of her. Without even needing a video call.
Nathan continued singing.
"Content about love..."
"Struck just hard enough..."
"Rattling my mind..."
"The best part is, this is for you..."
Several customers watched Nathan. Because that night had transformed into a memory someone would never forget.
Elena began to close her eyes, not to think about anything, but simply to savor every note and lyric Nathan was performing.
Nathan was still singing onstage, and Elena was still listening with a smile.
But when he reached the chorus...
"Don't support..." "Like a poem, I..." "I'm not a statue..." "That time will pass..."
At this part, Maya nudged Elena's arm. Elena turned toward her best friend.
"What?" Elena asked.
"Arkian."
"Huh?" Elena asked again, as if she hadn't heard.
"Arkian," Maya repeated.
A few moments later, Elena slowly turned her head. She was slightly confused by what she saw that night. Arkian Mahendra was looking toward the stage. His mouth moved along with every note and line of the lyrics.
"I'm annoyed, I'm furious..." "Disappointment echoes..." "Not a tender love song..." "In the same rhythm as Two Melodies, One Heart..."
Elena watched him as if he knew the lyrics by heart, as if Arkian had known the song long before tonight.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Elena kept watching Arkian sing along, though his voice was so soft that almost no one else could hear it. But to her, it was clear.
Arkian didn't realize Elena was watching him, perhaps because of the considerable distance and the other customers seated between them.
Arkian followed along with the song Nathan was playing. Elena furrowed her brows. Something about it was strange, a curiosity she couldn't explain. In her heart, Elena wondered:
"How does Professor Arkian know this song?"
Elena also thought that Professor Arkian was a music professor. He was such an expert that she could imagine this being easy for him. Even so, she wasn't certain her assumption was right.
On the other side of the room, Nathan continued singing. He had been distracted by the scene for a moment, searching for whoever—or whatever—Elena was looking at.
Amid the strangeness of it all, Elena, a girl who could sometimes be naive, drew a long breath, closed her eyes, and turned back toward the stage before slowly exhaling. Then she opened her eyes again.
The atmosphere in the café had shifted slightly from before, like a book that had turned to a new page. Nathan was no longer singing onstage. Arkian was performing the song instead, in a slightly higher key.
Elena fell silent for a moment, as if lost in thought again. The melody was nearly the same, though it felt as if it had risen by one octave. The lyrics weren't much different, either.
From the stage, Arkian looked at Elena as he sang, then smiled.
Elena felt that she had accepted everything happening now with greater maturity.
And that night, the two of them seemed like people who had known each other for a long time. As if time could change so many things in the blink of an eye.
Music still flowed through the soft café lights. Several customers remained seated, enjoying their evening. Smiling, Elena watched and listened to the gentle voice drifting through the peaceful atmosphere.
Suddenly, the device on Elena's table vibrated. Its screen lit up. The name of the caller appeared.
'Mom'
Elena hesitated slightly before answering. But out of respect and love, she accepted the call.
"Yeah... Mom?"
Her mother's face appeared on the screen.
"What are you doing, El?"
Elena smiled.
"Nothing, Mom..."
"Why can I hear music?"
"Um... yeah, I'm at a café."
Her mother looked at the surroundings behind Elena.
"A café?..." "By yourself?"
The question made Elena fall silent for a moment. She couldn't lie to her mother after letting the truth slip out, and she needed an excuse quickly. Elena grew flustered, then unconsciously glanced toward the stage.
"Um... not exactly, Mom," she said softly.
Her mother immediately noticed the slight change in her daughter's expression.
"Oh...."
One simple word, but it was enough to make Elena realize that her mother already knew.
"Oh... what does that mean?" Elena asked in surprise.
"I just said oh."
Elena whined playfully.
"But why did you say it like that...?"
Her mother laughed at her daughter's behavior. Their brief exchange felt like the easy conversation between a mother and her beloved daughter.
"Because you look so pretty tonight." Her mother teased her again.
"Oh, Mom..."
"...It just happened to work out that way."
"Happened to, or planned to?"
Elena smiled shyly.
"Mom..."
"Tell me, El."
Elena lowered her head slightly. This time, she couldn't hide her happy smile.
"There's nothing to tell, Mom..."
"Elena...."
The way her mother said her name made Elena surrender.
"Oh, Mom, come on."
"El, it's me..." her mother said reassuringly.
Elena looked back toward the stage. For a few moments, she and Arkian exchanged smiles. Arkian realized what was happening, too.
"It's fine, Mom..."
Her mother immediately smiled.
"There you go... let Mom see him."
"No, not like that, but..."
"I just want to know, El...."
Elena fell silent for a moment, not answering right away. A little doubt lingered in her heart.
"Don't worry, Mom. He's a good person," Elena answered softly.
Her mother was quiet for a moment and sighed. Not because she was disappointed, but because she could see her daughter was too shy to introduce him.
"You still haven't told me anything, Elena. Can't Mom even get a quick look?"
Elena immediately panicked a little and felt guilty for having kept her relationship with Arkian hidden for so long.
Hidden. The word made her think, without meaning to, of the third floor of the library—the place where it had all begun with a single book.
It had been raining that evening, weeks after their first real conversation at Paranada. By then, they had stopped pretending their meetings were accidents. She had been returning the dark blue book; he had been waiting by the same shelf, as if the shelf itself had made an appointment for them.
"You know I'm not your lecturer," he had said quietly, as though he had rehearsed it. "I never will be. I've already made sure your name won't land on any panel of mine. And when your final project is graded, I'm walking into the dean's office and telling him myself. I don't ever want you to feel this is something you owe me."
"I don't feel like I owe you anything," Elena had answered. "I feel like I want something."
"What?"
Instead of answering, she had stepped closer. Her back met the shelf behind her—the spines of old books pressing gently against her shoulder blades—and his hand came to rest at her waist, light, asking.
"Elena," he had murmured. "Tell me to stop."
"Don't stop."
His lips had barely touched hers. Soft. Careful. She could feel the heat of him through the thin cotton of her blouse, could feel his heartbeat—or hers, she could no longer tell—hammering between them. She had curled her fingers into his collar and pulled him one breath closer—
Then the squeal of a book cart rolled around the end of the aisle.
They sprang apart. A library staff member pushed past without looking up, humming to herself. Elena had pressed both hands over her mouth to keep from laughing, her face burning, while Arkian studied a shelf of encyclopedias very seriously, as though he had never seen books before in his life.
"Same shelf," he had whispered once the footsteps faded, his voice not quite steady. "Same kind of interruption. The universe has a sense of humor."
Since that night, the two of them had carried a secret neither of them was ashamed of—only careful with. And now her mother was asking to see it.
"Mom...?"
"Just a look."
"Later, Mom..." Elena said softly.
"How long are you planning to keep hiding him?" her mother asked again.
Elena sighed. She knew her mother was pushing a little. Since her mother kept pressing her, Elena finally lifted her device slightly.
"Fine, but just from here, okay...?"
The camera, which had been pointed at her, shifted direction. At first, it showed only the café lights, then the tables, and finally the stage. Arkian eventually appeared onstage, still singing.
Elena's mother simply watched, silent for several minutes as she observed Arkian singing.
A little while later...
"El..."
"Yeah, Mom?"
"Is that your boyfriend?" Her mother's eyes seemed to narrow.
"Why, Mom?"
Her mother didn't continue, but kept watching Arkian sing.
There were many things that couldn't easily be expressed in a single word at that moment. A few minutes later, her mother asked again.
"Are you happy, El?"
Elena looked at her mother. And for the first time that night, she didn't feel as though she had to explain anything.
"Yeah, Mom... don't worry," Elena said, reassuring her.
Arkian had reached the final note amid the quiet atmosphere.
The last note slowly faded away.
The warm applause in the café was enough to make Arkian bow his head before saying,
"Thank you."
Before Arkian could leave the stage, Elena grabbed the device still propped against a small glass, flipped the camera around, and pointed it back at herself.
"Mom, wait a second, okay?"
Her mother nodded slowly with a faint smile.
"Okay..."
Then Elena put the device back in its previous position. The camera now captured almost the entire stage.
Then Elena stood. Her steps were slow and unhurried. She walked past several tables before stopping directly in front of Arkian.
Arkian was slightly startled to see Elena approaching him.
"Oh, what's up?" he asked in confusion.
Elena moved a little closer. In a voice barely loud enough to hear, she whispered something in Arkian's ear.
"Do it one more time, okay?"
Her lips were so close to his ear that he felt the words more than heard them—a warm breath against his skin, the faint scent of vanilla from her hair. The fine hairs at the back of his neck rose. For a second, Arkian forgot that there was a room full of people, a mother on a phone screen, and a stage light still warm on his face. He only knew that she was close, and that every part of him had leaned, without permission, an inch closer to her.
"Huh... one more time?" Arkian was slightly startled to hear that.
"Yeah. My mom wants to see."
"Huh?..."
"...Your mom wants to see?"
"Just go along with it."
"Seriously, El?"
"Yeah, because it was good."
"But, El..." Arkian stopped.
"...Oh, man, I'm embarrassed, El..."
Elena clasped her palms together, pleading playfully.
"Please...."
Arkian bowed his head, shaking it while grinning brightly.
"Hmm... Elena, Elena..."
Elena kept giving Arkian a pleading look for several seconds.
"Hmm... all right."
Arkian gave in when he saw Elena begging like a cat asking for fish, complete with that look in her eyes.
Elena answered with a satisfied smile and a small laugh.
"That's my good professor, hehe..."
Arkian could only bow his head, grinning at her adorable behavior. Then he returned to the stage.
Elena watched him climb the steps, and the way he had said her name—Elena, Elena—echoed in her, low and fond. It was the same way he had said it three weeks ago, in his car, with the rain drumming on the roof.
He had driven her back from Paranada after closing. The wipers had swept back and forth, back and forth, a slow metronome. Neither of them had wanted to get out.
"You're staring," she had said.
"I'm memorizing," he had answered. "There's a difference."
She had been the one to lean across the console first. She remembered that clearly, and was a little proud of it. She had touched his jaw—rough with the end of the day's stubble—and turned his face toward her.
"Can I?" she had asked.
"You never have to ask twice," he had said. "But I'm glad you asked once."
The first kiss was slow, a question. The second answered it. His hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head, and the world narrowed to the taste of the coffee they had both drunk, the drumming rain, the small sound she made when he deepened the kiss and she opened to him without thinking. Her fingers fisted in the front of his shirt. His other hand traveled down the line of her back and settled at her waist, pulling her as close as the narrow seats allowed, and she felt the solid warmth of his chest against her, his heart racing just as hard as hers.
"Elena," he had breathed against her mouth, his voice gone rough.
His lips left hers only to trace the edge of her jaw, then the soft place beneath her ear, then lower, to the hollow of her throat, where her pulse fluttered wildly. She tipped her head back against the window, eyes closed, her breath coming short and uneven. Fog crept over the glass. Every place his mouth touched felt lit from the inside.
"Arkian," she had whispered, and it came out half a sigh, half a laugh at her own helplessness.
He stopped there. He rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard, and she could feel him smiling.
"If I don't stop now," he had murmured, "I'm going to forget I'm a patient man."
"Maybe I don't want you to be patient."
"I know." He kissed her once more, softly, at the corner of her mouth. "That's exactly why I have to be. For now."
She had gone up to her boarding room that night with her lips still tingling and her heart still racing, and had not slept until almost dawn.
Now, watching him settle in front of the microphone, Elena pressed her fingertips to her mouth before she could stop herself.
Though in truth, Elena had briefly thought of Nathan that night because of the song's lyrics. Nathan had also performed the song once, in a different way. But that didn't mean Elena was enjoying her memories with Nathan. She simply wanted to learn to accept everything more wisely.
Arkian's voice rang out again. The song began once more, but this time with a different arrangement—more melancholy and plaintive, filled with feeling.
On the table, Elena's device was still standing upright. The video call with her mother was still in progress.
At first, Elena's mother had only wanted to see who had made her daughter dress up so prettily that night. But the longer she watched and listened, the more something began to weigh on her heart.
That night, Elena and her mother were both transfixed by Arkian's singing onstage. Elena occasionally took a look at her device's screen. But as the song reached its final section, she was slightly startled to see that her mother was no longer visible on the screen.
Elena quickly called out to her mother.
"Mom... Mom...?"
"...Mom!?" she repeated, a little louder.
A short while later, her mother returned.
"Yeah, El."
Relieved to see her, Elena asked,
"Mom..."
"....Where did you go?"
"I'm cooking, El," her mother answered flatly.
"Wow... I miss your cooking, Mom...." Elena whined softly.
"Then hurry up and finish college so we can be together again...."
"Okay... yes, boss," Elena replied with a reassuring smile.
"All right, carry on. Mom's going to the back for a bit, okay?"
Elena's mother immediately got up from where she was. Elena watched her leave without thinking anything alarming. Maybe she was checking on the food.
Elena didn't end the video call. She waited for her mother to return while enjoying the song Arkian was singing onstage.
A little while later, Elena's mother returned. But the atmosphere felt slightly different. She seemed busy, as if she were working on something, though Elena couldn't clearly see what it was.
Elena didn't particularly want to bother her by asking. Rather than ending the video call first, she tried to lighten the mood and break the tension.
"Mom, let me introduce you." Elena shifted the camera slightly.
"This is Professor Arkian—" Elena stopped herself quickly.
"I mean, Arkian," she continued with a small laugh.
Arkian, sitting beside Elena, turned toward the screen.
"Good evening, ma'am." He pressed his palms together in greeting.
Elena's mother gave a faint smile from the screen.
"Yes, good evening."
The simple greeting ended quickly. Nothing about it was unusual. For several seconds, the atmosphere fell silent.
A moment later, it was enough to make Elena look at the screen, realize what was happening, and then look at Arkian.
"What?"
Elena furrowed her brows.
"Is the signal acting up?"
As if just realizing it, Arkian smiled faintly.
"Oh..."
"...Yeah, it's the signal, El."
"Yeah, the signal's acting up," Elena's mother replied casually.
Elena scratched her head.
Arkian then looked at the watch on his wrist.
"El," he said.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to the bathroom, okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Elena replied.
Then Arkian turned toward the screen.
"Excuse me for a moment, ma'am...."
Arkian smiled at the camera and lowered his head slightly, his voice barely audible.
Elena was still busy searching for something in her bag. Her mother also seemed occupied with whatever she was doing, unaware that Arkian was saying goodbye.
Arkian then rose from his chair. He left the table and walked toward the small hallway at the back of the café.
Elena looked back at her mother on the screen, who was still acting the same way. They resumed their conversation.
"What's wrong, Mom?"
"Are you sick?" Elena asked.
"I've had a cough and runny nose for three days. It's nothing," her mother answered casually.
"No wonder you've been like that...."
Meanwhile, Elena's video call with her mother continued.
In the bathroom mirror, Arkian stared at himself. His face had begun to age. With his forty-second birthday already behind him, he naturally had a few fine lines on his face and several white hairs.
He looked so different from Elena, who was only twenty. The sheen of Elena's black hair, her still-taut skin, and her ideal figure seemed to force Arkian to face the reality of himself.
Without lingering to regret it, he quickly washed his face, then bowed his head and placed both hands on the white sink.