The door clicked shut behind Raya with a tired finality, as if even the hinges understood how long her day had been. The familiar scent of lavender—Anna's favorite candle—mingled with the sweetness of the bouquet Anna's boyfriend had sent earlier that morning. The roses were still fresh, their fragrance curling through the air like a quiet boast, a reminder of his grand gestures. Beneath it all lingered the musk of worn-out wood, grounding the room in the comfort of years lived together. It was the smell of safety—the one place in the city that didn't demand anything from her.
Her limbs felt carved from lead. Her back ached in places she didn't even know had muscles. Her feet? Completely numb. She honestly had no idea how she was still upright; maybe sheer stubbornness was the only thing keeping her vertical.
Across the spacious sitting room, Anna looked up from her Huion tablet. The glow of the screen reflected in her eyes, highlighting the concern that immediately softened her features. Her stylus paused mid-stroke, frozen above whatever colorful world she had been creating.
"My baby, you're home."
The words were warm and teasing, but worry underlined them.
Raya dropped her bag by the shoe rack with a heavy thud, letting her shoulders slump. She exhaled slowly, as if the day itself had wrapped its hands around her ribs and squeezed out all the air. "Barely."
Anna didn't need more explanation. She stood up immediately, her socks whispering against the wooden floor as she crossed the room in long, purposeful strides. No interrogation, no judgment—just open arms.
Raya stepped into the embrace without hesitation. Her body melted, tension leaking out in slow, reluctant drips.
"Come on, sit down before you pass out," Anna said, guiding her to the couch like a protective older sister. "You look like a ghost that fought with a truck."
Raya's lips curled weakly. "The truck won."
As soon as she sank into the couch cushions, her eyes fluttered shut. The fabric smelled faintly of detergent and the vanilla lotion Anna loved.
Anna knelt behind her and, without warning, started massaging her shoulders.
"Ow—Anna!"
"Don't be dramatic." Anna grinned, her thumbs digging in just enough to make Raya wince. "You'll thank me later. Damn, you're all knots and no muscle."
Raya hissed through her teeth but groaned when Anna's hands found a particularly sore spot. "What shift was this?"
"The bar," Raya mumbled into the cushion. "After the bookstore café. After delivery runs. After stunt work. After morning cleaning. At least seven today."
Anna froze mid-massage. "Seven shifts? Are you trying to die?"
"Not until I pay off a lifetime's worth of bad luck," Raya muttered.
Anna shook her head with an incredulous smile. "You're a legend. A foolish, tired legend."
They fell into a comfortable quiet, broken only by the soft hum of Anna's desk fan and the distant city noise drifting in through the open window. Somewhere down the street, a dog barked, and a motorbike roared past, but here, the air felt still.
Then Anna sighed—the kind of sigh that carried more weight than a bad day. "The studio rejected my final illustrations."
Raya's eyes opened halfway. "What?"
Anna's voice was casual, but the slump in her shoulders gave her away. "Yeah." She flopped beside Raya, grabbing a throw pillow to hug like a shield. "Said I didn't capture the character's soul or some vague bullsh*t. I worked my heart into it, Raya. Weeks of work. Down the drain."
Raya remembered how excited Anna had been about that project—how she'd been sketching late into the night, sipping endless cups of tea, and talking about "finally landing something steady." She had been eyeing that contract for months, dreaming of what it could mean. But they kept turning her work away with vague critiques that sounded more like excuses.
"You know that doesn't mean your art wasn't good, right?" Raya's voice was soft, but her words were steady.
Anna scoffed. "Then why does it hurt so bad?"
"Because you care," Raya said simply. "But listen—sometimes rejection means they didn't know what they wanted until they saw your version. Doesn't mean they were right. Doesn't mean you weren't."
Anna tilted her head toward her. "Where do you get this poetic wisdom, huh?"
"From someone I love who never gives up," Raya said, smiling faintly.
Anna chuckled. "Sounds like me."
"Exactly."
They laughed together—tired laughter, but still a spark of light in the haze of exhaustion.
Anna nudged Raya with her knee. "So… you want rice or noodles for dinner?"
"Surprise me." Raya's smile was lazy but genuine. When Anna stood to head toward the kitchen, Raya caught her wrist.
"…Let's not eat. Let's just lie here and forget capitalism exists."
Anna grinned. "If that's what my baby wants, then deal."
They settled back onto the couch, leaning into each other like two puzzle pieces that had been doing this forever.
"How's your boyfriend?" Raya asked after a pause.
"Which one?" Anna replied immediately, deadpan.
Raya snorted. It wasn't even sarcasm—when it came to Anna's dating life, you really did have to specify. Most of her relationships never made it past the three-month mark, and if one somehow did, it was practically a miracle worthy of paperwork.
"Joseph the dreamer," Raya said, smirking. "Isn't he your latest?"
"Don't remind me of him," Anna groaned. "He just kept annoying me with his dreams. Just because his name is Joseph, he thinks he came straight out of the Bible."
Raya grinned at her friend's misery. "So… wait, you guys are still together?"
"Yes," Anna admitted with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "He said he had a dream that I'm his future wife, so no matter how many times I break up with him, we always end up on the bed… arrgh… I can't seem to break up with him because he's so damn good in bed." Her voice dipped into something almost dreamy.
"So you're considering being with him now?" Raya teased.
"Not really, but this is my first relationship to exceed three months… It's been five months already, so I'm considering maybe he's the one."
Raya lifted a brow. "Thinking he's the one just because he exceeded the three-month curse doesn't mean he's the one. But I must commend him for being able to tame you for five months—he's good."
Anna's grin widened, and Raya caught it instantly.
"Why are you grinning?" Raya asked with a smile.
"The guy wants to finish me with love. See all those flowers he bought me?"
Raya looked around. The sitting room looked like a florist's shop had exploded—vases on the coffee table, on the windowsill, on the TV stand. Bouquets of roses, lilies, daisies… even a potted orchid in the corner. The air was thick with the scent of pollen and sweetness.
"If he continues like this, you might turn into a gardener," Raya said with a crooked smile.
"Maybe I don't mind being a gardener," Anna replied, her tone softening. While Raya smiled at her friend's dreamy tone—
"Raya, aren't you considering dating someone else?" Anna asked, leaning back on the couch. The faint rustle of the bouquet Joseph had sent earlier caught Raya's ear—a dozen roses sitting proudly on the coffee table, their scent still curling into the air like a smug announcement of devotion.
Raya let out a soft snort. "Which man will accept me with all this problem of mine? Who will take a girlfriend with 700,000 debt? It's like 'buy one, get one free.'" She smirked at her own joke, though the humor felt thin in her chest. "I'm not interested in any relationship right now. I'm too tired… too tired to start anything."
Her eyes drifted back to the bouquet—petals still unbruised, stems clustered in a tall glass. She watched them for a slow, stubborn breath, the soft blush of the petals at odds with the ache in her chest.
The flowers smelled sweet, almost too sweet, mocking her with a reminder of a romance she didn't have.
Raya was a beautiful woman, the kind that made strangers glance twice without even trying—especially with those striking gray eyes. Sometimes, under the right light, she almost looked mixed-blood, an exotic kind of beauty that drew curiosity. But her father… that man had a way of draining her spirit, making her second-guess herself until she truly believed she didn't deserve better. That was why she had stuck with Leon for so long, no matter the disrespect and disappointments. Still, Anna believed her friend deserved the best—even if Raya didn't always see it.
"Has Leon called you again?" Anna's voice was casual, but her eyes were sharp.
"He keeps calling," Raya said with a shrug. "But I'm done with him. He's too expensive… and I can't afford him."
Anna rolled her eyes but reached over to squeeze Raya's hand. "Raya, just know you deserve the best. Be it a man, or anything else in life—you will always deserve the best, baby. And I love you the most."
Raya's lips curved into a small smile. "I know." But deep down, she also knew that all of this—love, men, even flowers—didn't matter right now. What mattered was the mountain of her father's debt, stubborn and immovable, looming over every part of her life.
They sat there for a while without speaking, just breathing in the perfumed air, listening to the quiet city beyond the walls.
As the night deepened, Anna pulled a blanket over them both. Her voice came low, almost a whisper.
"We'll figure it out, you know?"
Raya didn't answer right away. The words lingered in the air like a fragile promise.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.
"I hope so."