One week after the incident with the snake nesting in Tomi Setiawan's ceiling, Tomi was asked by Indra to breathe life into one of Indra's café buildings. Of course, he wasn't doing it alone; art and creativity were his and Ardo's expertise. The two were often seen as partners in crime within their group. 
Even within the same group, there were always sub-groups. Aldo was closer to Indra, while Tomi was closer to Ardo, with Rey staying neutral, blending in with everyone. 
Ardo sat on a high stool, fully engrossed in his painting. Indra often asked him to paint the walls of his cafes or restaurants when he had time. Tomi assisted with the coloring and added small details. As a musician, Tomi was also a talented artist, on par with Ardo. 
Rey and Indra stood side by side, watching as Ardo and Tomi breathed life into the once-blank wall. The location was near Kota Tua, where young people would come by to chat or take photos. Indra had explained earlier that he wouldn't charge high prices; the café management team had discussed the concept with him long ago. 
"When are you heading back to Singapore, Rey?" Indra asked, arms crossed. 
Rey glanced at him briefly before returning his gaze to Ardo's work. "In two days, Ndra. After visiting my grandma, I have to go to Seattle. Back to the original place," Rey replied, chuckling at the thought of his exhausting travel schedule. 
Indra patted the shoulder of his mixed-race friend. "Hang in there," he teased. 
Tomi looked at them, then exchanged glances with Indra and Rey, who were about the same height. His left cheek was smeared with red and green paint as he painted a rose. 
“You should work here next year, Rey. Indra can pay you a lot," Tomi said. 
"Tom, come on! This isn't about money, dude. It's about passion," Rey replied, his American accent strong, a result of spending so much time studying and working in the United States.
Tomi was also annoyed whenever Aldo and Rey argued, as it felt like watching a U.S. presidential debate. 
"The Japanese Whitey always switches to English American accent when he's mad," Ardo quipped, still focused on sketching the framework for the building he was painting. 
"Yeah, sorry, Mr. Japanese Whitey… so, so, so sorry. I'll kiss you long and hard!" Tomi raised his hands in mock surrender, apologizing to Rey. 
"Gross!" Rey shouted, followed by laughter. 
Indra's shoulders shook with laughter as he watched their nonsensical conversation. His phone rang, and he headed to the back of the café to take the call. Indra never parted with his phone, no matter where he went. Tomi only glanced briefly as Indra left. 
"Have you ever seen Indra without his gadget for a day?" Ardo asked, taking a brief break from his work. 
"When he's sleeping or with a girl," Tomi replied nonchalantly. 
"When he's on vacation abroad, he usually switches to one phone and completely turns off the one for work," Rey added, crouching down to draw small flowers in the grass Ardo had painted. 
"I can't imagine how stressed Indra must be. It must be exhausting; I wouldn't want to trade places with him," Ardo said. 
"Speaking of stress, I'm also stressed because I haven't written a new song yet," Tomi complained. 
"You need to find some inspiration," Ardo said, amused by the musician's frustration. 
"Ah, I don't know!" Tomi continued painting the rose, adding drops of blood near its stem and thorns. 
Tomi and Ardo made the perfect team for small projects like this. Besides, Tomi wasn’t in the mood to work on his songs; his heart felt restless and empty. Despite a major record company offering him a lucrative contract, inspiration had eluded him. He was truly stressed, his mind blank without ideas. It was difficult for him to be creative when forced. He daydreamed while filling in the empty spots on his painting. Ardo and Rey exchanged glances when they heard Tomi’s long, frustrated sigh. 
"The Chinese Gecko, Aldo, is out of town, right?" Ardo broke the silence as they focused on their tasks. 
"That Hong Kong Croc’s life has been unclear since Giska dumped him, right? All he does is work, work, and more work," Tomi said. 
They all had their nicknames—teasing names among friends. Rey was Mr. Japanese Whitey, Indra was Mr. Boss, Ardo was Mountain Monkey because of his love for adventure, and Tomi was Tomi Tomcat, a name given during the Tomcat insect outbreak in 2012 when they had become close as a group. Aldo had more nicknames than anyone: Narrow-Eyed Guy, Hong Kong Croc, Big Bro Second-Hand Phone Seller from Tanah Abang Jakarta. Since becoming a journalist, Aldo had earned the nickname Journalist Brother.
They finished their painting work at six in the evening. Indra ordered plenty of Ardo and Tomi’s favorite food as a form of appreciation. Ardo wasn’t interested in being paid in money, feeling that he was simply given a canvas for his art. Meanwhile, Tomi didn’t mind not being paid either, as he had just drawn casually. However, in Indra’s eyes, the final result still had artistic value. 
Tomi returned home feeling empty. He still hadn’t found the inspiration he needed, even though his work heavily relied on emotion and creativity. His phone notifications wouldn’t stop, with many music producers asking for songs, and a few messages from female singers seeking free songs. 
The man with long hair down to his neck could only chuckle softly. Turning a hobby into a job sometimes made Tomi feel physically and mentally exhausted. Back in his teens, he could write songs with just a guitar and the bustling atmosphere of a school canteen, but now Tomi had to put in much more effort to create even one or two melodies. And that was only the tune; the lyrics were still missing, which was mentally torturing Tomi. 
“No wonder so many artists die from brain cancer," Tomi muttered as he drove toward his neighborhood.