UNENDING

18: Race Against the Clock

Why bother looking for trouble? Soon enough, it will find you anyway.

JANUARY 2020
Stephanie's, Jakarta

"How do you like it?"

Sean waited in anticipation as Ibanez shoved the last bite of Stephanie's killer lava cake—dripping melted chocolate and all—into his mouth. Almost subconsciously, Sean's knee started bouncing up and down as the kid chewed the sweet delicacy.

"If you're still going to feel so bad about ditching me earlier than planned, pack me some of these heavenly babies and I'll call it even," Ibanez commented while licking his spoon clean.

"Consider it's done." Sean blew a relieved breath. His knee jerks came to a stop.

"I should be the one to say sorry tho. It's my agency and shit, but still." Ibanez's features contorted into a grimace. "I'm not surprised, but they really shouldn't pull a dickish move like that on you. I can't believe Linda—"

"Could be in a real family emergency."

Ibanez blew a breath and looked away. "You don't seriously believe that."

Sean lowered his eyes, huffing a brittle laugh. "At least now you've got another reason to talk to Linda about that makeout scene you seem so curious about."

"Masbro is such a jerk."

"Now, now, you're confusing me with Brama again."

A faint ding sounded from the interior part of the restaurant, followed by quick foot stomps that got increasingly louder. Heavier. And closer.

Before long, Lukman Diandra's bedraggled figure emerged from the cover of red palm leaves, straight into Sean and Ibanez's line of sight.

"Howdy!" Lukman greeted in between breaths.

Sean studied the newcomer's appearance from head to toe; noting several visible damp spots on the blue shirt under a denim jacket, his still rapid breathing, and a slightly feral quality coloring his thinly stubbled visage.

Wincing slightly, Sean spoke, "Someone's chasing you?"

"Must be his past," Ibanez quipped.

Sean ignored the kid's jibe and looked around. "What about Chandra?"

"Oh, don't worry, he'll be here soon," Lukman snatched Sean's still untouched dining napkin and used it to wipe the sweat across his forehead. "Chandra needs to do a couple detours first," he casually added while shedding off his denim jacket.

"Detour?" Sean knitted his brows. "He took a wrong turn or something? Pretty sure I've sent him the right direction..."

"You guys mind if I sit first? Masbro, scoot over, will you?"

Lukman didn't wait for any invitation before helping himself to invade Sean's personal space, his jacket draped haphazardly on the backrest. Almost automatically, Sean dragged his asses to the other end of the bench.

The move was already so well-practiced since their Tempestuous filming day Sean didn't even bother to fight the intrusion. From across the table, Ibanez shot Lukman a dirty look.

"Why don't you order him some water, eh? Before Lukman faints on us like you did last time?" Sean flicked an eye at Ibanez, who scornfully twisted his lips in response, but did what he was told anyway.