A few days after Tomi had “rescued” Tyana—not that it could really be called a rescue, since he could have done more than just pay a sum to have her switch jobs away from servicing sleazy older men—he returned to his routine as if nothing had happened. Yet, tonight, unease gnawed at him. Why was he even worried about Tyana? They barely knew each other. Perhaps it was the melancholy of that night, the mood that had gripped him while his four friends were caught up in their own worlds, that made him pity a girl so beautiful and innocent, trapped in such a dark world. After all, don’t people tend to act impulsively when they’re feeling low?
The night was still young in the city that never sleeps. As one sector shut down, others buzzed to life, and Tomi, like many others, thrived in the night’s embrace. The streets filled with human desires, relentless and unyielding, only ceasing when death came knocking.
Tomi found himself at Indra Hendrawan’s exclusive bar, surrounded by his four friends, casually playing cards and drinking. Indra, a metrosexual businessman with a ruthless streak, was a close friend. Tomi often referred to him as greedy, considering the countless shell businesses—cafés and restaurants—that Indra used for money laundering, all under borrowed names while he remained the true owner. Truly, Indra was a master of cunning.
“They say it’s to avoid paying too much in taxes. You’re nuts, Indra,” Tomi jibed.
“Try being me for a day, Tom, and you’ll get it,” Indra shot back.
“You’re insane,” Tomi muttered. “Whatever, as long as I can borrow money from you when I need it, Boss.”
“No problem!” Indra replied.
It wasn’t Tomi’s concern, as long as he could tap into the rich kid’s wealth when needed. Indra had his pick of “Barbie dolls” and never got into a serious relationship after his heart was broken by Sigi. Tomi figured Indra would likely die from alcohol poisoning or a gym accident. Indra was a bastard like him, and that was why they had remained close for so long.
None of the five of them were truly normal. Even Rey Hutomo, who was the quietest among them, had a long history with women. And Aldo and Ardo? They were notorious playboys, never satisfied. Birds of a feather flock together, as they say, and that’s just how the world works. It may seem unfair, but that’s life.
Their friendship had begun back in the eleventh grade, and though years had passed since they graduated, Tomi couldn’t recall exactly when, but now they were more like brothers. All five were now 25, good-looking, wealthy, and at the peak of their careers. They were in their prime—still young, full of life, and at the top of their game.
The room was nearly empty now, the golden, dim light exuding an expensive atmosphere. Most of the guests had left as it was almost midnight. Aldo, a heartbroken journalist, was drunk, singing a sad song and changing some of the lyrics to include “Giska,” the woman on his mind. Indra joined in as his backing vocal, making Tomi grin and shake his head. Aldo had tried dating several times, but it always ended quickly, with the excuse of being too busy. Despite his looks, which could have won him any woman, Aldo’s high standards always got in the way.
“What’s the bet this time? It’s no fun playing without some motivation,” Ardo chimed in.
The pale-skinned man was an influencer and also worked in marketing for a private company. If his side income grew large enough, Ardo might just quit his job to focus on the digital world.
“What’s up, Tom? You seem happier than you have in a while,” Rey Hutomo remarked.
Rey, a chef specializing in Western cuisine, had spent more time abroad than in Indonesia. With a mix of Dutch, German, Indonesian, and Japanese ancestry, his eyes always seemed to smile, even when he wasn’t. His genes were a blend of conqueror and the conquered, though it seemed Japan had won out since Rey had an oriental look, but with skin as fair as a Westerner’s.
“The usual—a massage with a little something extra. Keeps me motivated,” Tomi replied, tossing a card.
Indra grinned at his own cards, playing one that made Aldo frown. Indra and Aldo were always competing, no matter the game.
“When you go to those places, who’s doing the massaging, and who’s getting massaged?” Aldo teased, throwing down a card that made Rey scratch his temple. This room was full of gamblers at heart. No one wanted to lose, even if there was no gold or money at stake. It was all about male pride.
“Sometimes I do the massaging. The girl can just sleep—it’s fine,” Tomi answered, tossing another card before taking a drink.
Yet, thinking back, it was strange how Tomi had felt sorry for Tyana. He had even let her go without touching her, despite having every right to do so after paying a hefty price. Lately, Tomi’s moods had been all over the place. It was bizarre!
“Is it really that satisfying to sleep with random girls? I don’t think so. Just find a girlfriend,” Indra suggested, downing alcohol straight from the bottle. He had a strong tolerance—rarely getting drunk unless he’d downed a few bottles.
Tomi just snorted at Indra’s jibe. “Not in the mood,” he replied, disinterested.
“Agreed with Indra! You should try sleeping with someone you didn’t pay for, Tom. Maybe your songwriting inspiration will start flowing again,” Aldo said, taking off his glasses and pushing them up onto his head. His eyes, already narrow, were now mere slits as he struggled to keep them open. The journalist was pretty drunk tonight.
Indra burst out laughing at Aldo’s antics. Rey gave Aldo a light slap on the cheek, grinning all the while. Ardo mischievously poured soy sauce into Aldo’s drink, stirring it with his finger. Indra and Rey held Aldo down while Ardo forced him to drink the disgusting concoction. Aldo struggled, but in the end, he gulped it down, coughing violently. Tomi clapped at his friends’ mischievousness.
Their friendship had lasted long enough. It was rare for high school friends to stay close into adulthood, as career choices and differences in income often created social divides.
But that wasn’t the case for Tomi, Ardo, Rey, Aldo, and Indra. They had all found success in their respective fields. Their similar backgrounds had forged a strong bond. Born into wealthy families, they all shared similar hobbies.
The card game continued, with Aldo cursing non-stop after being pranked, much to the amusement of the other four. The game would go on, even without a prize.
“Don’t you two ever worry about going too far?” Indra asked, glancing between Ardo and Tomi.
Aldo cleared his throat, knowing exactly what Indra meant, while Rey stifled a laugh. Tomi and Ardo were the ones most likely to spend the night with women. Tomi was the worst, though Ardo was more selective. Ardo had only one rule: never get involved with one of his fans.
“Only sometimes, Indra. For me, the main thing is to avoid dating fans. That could get messy,” Ardo said.
“Yeah, I know, there’s a difference between a girl you pay and a girl you date, but I don’t want my productive time interrupted by a needy girlfriend,” Tomi defended himself.
“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to find someone, Tom. A little sweetness in your life wouldn’t be so bad,” Aldo said, adjusting his glasses again.
The game continued for several more rounds. Indra suggested flicking foreheads as a punishment, while Rey wanted to bet drinks. Ardo proposed a mountain trip if he won, prompting loud groans from the others, who wanted nothing to do with that idea.