It was almost 6 PM. The dazzling light of today's sun has already started to fade away. Moreover, the white lumps in the sky had started to turn grey, followed by the rumbling thunders, which in Naura's ears, is a sound of music. She won't budge an inch from her vespa despite the beginning of the drizzle which had watered her hooded head. No. The only thing that has budged here is her heart.
The cold from the rain is starting to kick in. But before it even started to, Naura's hand has already started trembling in anxiety. Her custom-cased Iphone X keeps vibrating again and again, showing the same name again and again. It's not her concern; She keeps repeating one same video in her phone, again and again, ignoring the death bed music playing, which she had set her ringtone for—special for just one person.
Ihsan is calling. She usually answers his calls and transfers a certain number of dough an instant right after. That was how it is usually done. She takes a glimpse at her Chanel branded watch; It was his only gift from her first birthday together. Nevertheless, it is the same date and situation with today's night, yet she felt far from delightful.
She started to blow the candle from her cupcakes she saved from the rain. It's already soaking wet along with her and her sanity. She just won't stop laughing right after. It is pretty unclear that she had shrieked in laughter for his only lover did such kind of video with her own best friend—Which she had never did with him— or for her naïve dumbfounded self which takes advices of Ihsan from the very same friend about how to treat him well.
She never wanted to set the world on fire. She only wants Ihsan's honesty, for now, and forever. Her vespa starts to run skewering through the freezing rain, passing the roads Naura crossed everyday for her work. It is a bit vague for a working district. That doesn't faze her even a bit. She keeps rushing through, despite the lack of clarity of the quiet path.
She turns off her engine. According to his texts, he should be out of town, looking for a new job. But it looks like he grew his nose again if seen from outside of his window. It's him with a red velvet slices in the plate he's holding. It is her birthday, but she didn't get any invitation. The one who is getting is invited is her soulmate right there.
The mad urge is tickling her head again. She doesn't take any regrets for what happened today, and years before. It was her fault, she knows that. She ran out of money to buy Ihsan's love from the beginning; She's not as rich as Mackenzie Scott, nor as sexy as the actress Gal Gadot.
All that she has left, is her vespa, her medication, and an erotic video of her own man with her sister-like friend. She just let that all go, with one breath of laughter.
Right below Ihsan's place now, is his modified car. Technically, it is hers; he bought it with Naura's cash, while leaving the cute girl starving for vegetables for roughly two months. He has a very good choice of words back then. She's staring it in grimace. She no longer feel any sincerity inside. It is hers, and will always be.
Naura started pouring Ihsan's fuel stock randomly, mostly to her car and Ihsan's front door and windows; He won't need it anymore. If remembered correctly, she once confiscate Ihsan's cigarette box to make him stop smoking, which had made him gone cockier towards herself, as a boomerang. Therefore, she throws it back, As she pulled out the same cigarette out of her damp hoodie, and lit it under the remaining drizzles.
She pretty understands why men loves to smoke under the rain now. It took a short time for her to finish one, as the toxic smoke she exhales in every breath she takes releases every toxicity in her remaining sanity.
And one cigarette is enough. the blaze of her final birthday cake with Ihsan had began to start as Naura disposes her glimmering remains of cigarette right to the soaked up yard, enlighten the night, as a form of her long lasted lost love. And she had got a new decent present now; her new happiness.
It is pretty clear, when a man feels superior, he feels like he needs more women. And when a women feels superior, she feels like she doesn't need any man.
