The Young Billionaire and A Girl

Rain falls, bringing water from the sky. But for me, rain also brings memories. A bundle of memories that, for some reason, instantly makes my chest feel tight. Now, my heart no longer has room to love the rain like I used to.

Home, 05:55 AM

This is my story; my name is Adina Candra Elsa. People often call me Adina. I am a child born into a simple family. My mother is just an ordinary employee at one of the small companies in my town. As for my father, I don't know. I've been abandoned by him since I was five years old.

"Adina, wash the dishes before you leave," my mother Yani scolds me, as she does almost every day. Right after breakfast, she asks me to clean the dishes.

"Yes, Mom, I've already cleaned them. Look for yourself." I reply, feeling satisfied.

"Okay, thanks, dear," my mother says from inside her room.

"Let's go, Mom..."

My invitation makes her slightly hurried. Every day, we leave together on a two-wheeled motorcycle, a 2015 model from the Land of Sakura. It's not too old for a scooter, and my mother intentionally bought it for me on my birthday. She said it was for me.

"Come on, hurry up and get in, or we'll be late." I always see that pretty middle-aged woman with a slightly annoyed expression when my mom is in a hurry.

"Yes, Mom, I'm going to class now."

I kiss my mother's hand every time I leave. I love her as much as I love myself. To me, she's the remedy when all my problems suddenly embrace me roughly.

School, 09:00 AM

"I'm going to study harder this year, just like last year. I'll get the scholarship again. This is all for you, Mom," I mutter.

Suddenly, a somewhat annoying handsome guy startles me from behind my chair, right behind where I'm sitting.

"Hey, why keep studying? You're already smart," he says.

His name is Devano Samuel Escapra, a student in 11th-grade science class (Grade 2 High School). He's my classmate, a handsome guy, a bad boy, a member of a motorcycle gang, and the only child of the owner of Escapra Gold Company, a small gold mining business. Unfortunately, he's also the most diligent student who always shows up in the counseling room. Not because of his achievements but because of the trouble he often causes.

"What's it to you? Let me do what I want." I speak in a slightly scolding tone.

"Geez, you're so boring."

"Whatever..." I retort.

I leave him alone in the classroom, with an annoyed expression, heading towards the outdoor area with many trees and flowers around it. There are five modern stalls with wooden tables and chairs that don't have umbrellas. It's aesthetically pleasing and romantic in my opinion. Here, I can see the sky without any barriers. The kids from here always liven up the trendiest spot in school.

It's still break time. Most students at Zidduya High School choose to enjoy some special dishes at this cafeteria. One of them is me, eating duck fried rice from Mbak Lastri. It's a favorite among the students.

"Just the usual, Mbak," I say to Mbak Lastri.

"Duck fried rice and orange juice, right, Din?"

"Yes, Mbak," I reply with a nod.

School, 01:30 PM

SMA Zidduya is a high school with a bunch of luxurious facilities in my town, Malang. One of the facilities I like and often visit is the Balairoom Theater.

It's a jumbo room twice the size of a basketball court, with light brown-patterned walls and some classic ornamental lights. Inside, there are beautiful iron chairs that can accommodate more than 1,500 people. It's not quite a room, but that's what it's called. This room has a very large main stage.

I love it, the art of theater and this room. Especially when it's raining, I love it even more. The atmosphere this time is enough to make me silent, calm, and soothing.

Rain is my muse. To me, it's the solace when I'm overwhelmed. When the world seems to have abandoned me. I love the rain, like I love myself. Thank you, God, the Owner of Rain. I love one of your possessions, called rain.

"Why are you lingering here?" The handsome guy with short hair, fair skin, tall, and popular in school named Devano says.

"It's none of your business. What do you care?" I reply a bit curtly.

"Do you like theater?" He asks with a curious expression.

"Yes, I do. Why?" I answer a little sharply.

"Never mind, just asking," Devano says.

"Why are you all wet like that?" I ask, looking at his rain-soaked clothes.

"I got caught in the rain a bit," he says, seemingly unconcerned about his wet clothes.

The soothing sound of rain on the roof. Accompanied by a cup of hot chocolate and of course, boiled noodles with an egg inside. It makes my mouth water, just to enjoy what's served. That's how I enjoy the rain, simply.

Home, 09:12 PM

The living room has a retro-themed interior, light brown walls, a white ceiling, and old-fashioned yellow-tiled floors. I sit with my mother on a wooden chair, and in front of me is chocolate and noodles with eggs cooked by my beloved mother, the star chef of this house.

This small house is a legacy from my maternal great-grandfather. It's been with me since I was born. It's also a silent witness to my mother's struggle to raise me alone, without a husband. Understandably, my father left us when I was five. He never came to visit us. I don't know; it's like he vanished forever.

Dad, I really miss you. Visit us, see me, even if it's just for a moment. According to Mom, Dad is trying his luck in Jakarta. He's trying to find a better future for me there. Days, weeks, and years have passed, and I'm now a teenager in high school. Dad never returned; it's like he disappeared off the face of the earth. I always sigh when I think about this.

Suddenly, my mother interrupts my reverie.

"How is it, Din? Is it good?"

"Mom's cooking is always delicious, and I love it," I reply. I adore everything she cooks for me, even though it looks very simple.

"Learn to cook, Din!" she tells me.

"Why, Mom?" I ask.

"You'll go to college soon, and after that, you'll get married, right? You won't be able to cook."

"Mom, seriously? I haven't even thought about marriage yet!"

"Yes, but you should start learning now, Din." My mother jokes, slightly annoyed that I'm so stubborn about this.

"All right, all right, maybe later, Mom," I say as I clean the dishes and glasses we used.

"Everything's clean now, Mom."

"Thank you, dear."

School, 06:37 AM

Eh, Din, do you have a tie?" Devano asks me in class. He must have forgotten his tie again. His face shows a bit of confusion, and for the umpteenth time, he hasn't brought that accessory.

"You forgot it again?"

"I forgot, Din."

"Ah, it's become a habit for you. What do you remember, anyway? Here's one, but make sure to return it!" I'm a bit annoyed because the tie I lent him last week seems to have disappeared.

"Okay, easy."

Every Monday, our school, SMA Zidduya, holds a ceremony on the field. The ceremony usually lasts for about 60 minutes. Students must wear the complete uniform and follow all the rules. Teachers check everything in detail, including the tie. If any of these rules are violated, students will face consequences.

I remember when we first met, in the first semester of 11th grade, in class 11 IPA 1 (Grade 2 High School). I discovered Devano was a transfer student from Jakarta.

A few months ago, precisely seven months ago, he moved to Malang with his driver and helper to live in his house, the one in Malang. His parents lived in a different house, in Jakarta. That's where the headquarters of the Escapra Gold Company, one of his father's branch businesses, was located.

I learned that his father rarely visited him due to his busy schedule as an entrepreneur with international grade. As a fellow only child, I understood the loneliness that a handsome guy like him must feel. Plus, he lived alone without his mother at home.

That's why we became close, and maybe that's when I started to love him. The feeling was there, but I couldn't pinpoint when it began.

***

House, 02:30 PM.

After returning from school, Mom was engrossed in watching television. Mom's office was organizing an event, so she had to come home earlier than usual. I was dropped off by my regular online motorcycle taxi driver. According to Mom, after working late into the night yesterday, she wanted to take a short break.

"Poor Mom, she must be exhausted," I murmured.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO ESCAPRA GOLD COMPANY"

The sentence on the TV screen that Mom was watching. It was a news broadcast, an interview session about the achievements of a company based in Singapore. According to a business expert, the company that was originally started from scratch in Jakarta had now successfully expanded to Singapore, and its global presence was growing.

Thanks to the opening of a gold mine in Africa, the company controlled by the Escapra family had transformed into a world-class global company with the largest valuation, ranking number one in its class. It was estimated that this company had become a billion-dollar enterprise.

Escapra's stock price had reached its all-time high at $150 per share. Despite the global stock market's decline, Escapra remained at the top.

I overheard some news about Devan's father's company on television. Coincidentally, as I walked towards the kitchen to get a drink from the refrigerator.

"Devano will definitely become the CEO and Chairman of Escapra Gold Company one day. Oh, what am I thinking? Does Devano even want me? Does his family approve of me being with Devano? I'm just a girl from a simple family. Moreover, my father's whereabouts are unknown," I muttered to myself.

"Ah, what am I even thinking?" I said to myself.

"Din, change your clothes first before having a drink," Mom said, sitting there.

"Wait a moment, Mom, it won't take long. I've already had a drink," I replied.

"Shall we have a meal together, Mom?" she asked.

"Yes, Mom, let me change first."

I walked towards my room, but suddenly my phone beeped. I glanced at it briefly, and it turned out to be a message from Devano. I had no idea how this guy got my phone number, but I was both happy and confused. I didn't know what I truly felt.

"Din, I want to come to your house," Devano's message appeared on the phone screen.

"Why? What for?" I replied.

"Well, we had a group assignment earlier. Me, Ghandi, and Icha are coming, and we're also returning your tie," he replied in the message, with an annoyed emoticon.

Ah, I was too confident when he wanted to come over. I had thought it was just to work on the group assignment, nothing more. How long would I keep hoping for a guy like Devano? He was handsome, wealthy, and popular, while I was just an ordinary girl, simple and not popular.

It's like rain. I loved him, but I also felt scared when I was with him. His face was comforting. His name seemed to have its own lightning spark in the deepest recesses of my soul. My thoughts fell silent for a moment. Even with these feelings, they melted into the falling raindrops. Just like in the first sentence.

Home, 03:33 PM.

"Knock...knock...knock..." The sound of someone knocking on the door from outside the house echoed in the living room. I pretended to ignore it. Suddenly, embarrassment engulfed me. It was always like this when Devano came over.

"That's not Din, someone's knocking at the door," Mom ordered from the small room in the house, known as the kitchen.

"Just go, Mom. I'm going to my room to get a book," I casually replied.

I was confused and embarrassed since receiving a message from Devano. The confusion had come so suddenly, all because the handsome guy was now at the front door. Even though he was with Ghandi and Icha. I decided to retreat to my room for a moment and left the living room. I didn't know why I acted this way; in school, I was not like this.

"Hey, everyone, Adina's friend is here. It turns out Devano is here too," Mom said.

"Yes, Mom."

Devano responded while his eyes scanned every detail of the house. He tried to find me, but I was not visible to his eyes yet. His thick, black eyebrows slightly rose, a sign that he was focused on finding something.

"Is Adina here, Mom?" Icha asked Mom.

"She's in her room. Come in, sit here," Mom invited them.

While pointing to the living room, which was also the family room in this house. Devano, Ghandi, and Icha immediately sat in the chairs there.

"Mom, can you make some drinks and snacks?"

"I'll help, Mom," Icha said, heading to the kitchen.

"Sure, dear."

Mom looked happy because Icha often helped her when they visited. Unlike me, who had to help Mom with cooking because she forced me to.

Despite its small appearance, it still made her feel lonely due to the departure of her beloved husband, my father, whose whereabouts were unclear. Now, when my friends came, this house felt lively for her.

A middle-aged woman, beautiful and naturally fair-skinned, never wanted to be called "aunt" by my friends. Moreover, they were already familiar and often visited this house, except for Devano, who could be counted on one hand. It had only happened a few times.

"Come here, Din, help your mother," she called as she saw me walking from the front of the room.

"Yes, Mom."

It's as if I wanted to appear as a sweet girl in front of Mom when Devano was around. I don't know, but my inner thoughts felt turbulent when I saw him, even when I heard his name mentioned.

I loved him so much, every detail about him. His handsome face, fair skin, pointed nose, and tall stature. But out of all that, I loved the way he looked at me. I felt captivated by every movement he made.

A few moments after the three of us cooked, or rather, Mom and Icha cooked while I just helped, sweet fried bananas made from the king bananas that Mom often bought at the Malang market. I always liked Mom's cooking, especially when paired with my favorite drink, hot chocolate.

"Everyone, have some fried bananas. There's chocolate for your drink. If you need more, there's still some in the kitchen," Mom said, addressing us all. Mom was indeed the best chef in our house.

"Hey, Din, what was I supposed to do yesterday?" Icha seemed confused about our group assignment.

"Do you all understand the task?"

I asked Devano and Ghandi, although my eyes had been focused on Devano all along.

"No, we don't," they shook their heads unanimously.

"Here's the thing, didn't you all listen when Mrs. Asih explained it? We're supposed to create a story to be acted out in class, like a theater performance. The theme is about love in life."

"That's your favorite, Din," Devano interjected.

I fell silent. Instantly, Ghandi and Icha also gazed at the handsome guy who had blurted it out. Apparently, he remembered my almost daily routine of watching extracurricular theater rehearsals. I wanted to join that extracurricular, but I hadn't passed the auditions several times. Well, it was an elite extracurricular at Ziduyya.

"Yes, I like that," I said.

"Let's join the extracurricular tomorrow, Din," Icha invited me; it seemed she was also interested in theater.

"Okay, Cha, let's register tomorrow," I said.

"I want to join too." Suddenly, Devan also wanted to participate.

"Well, count me in," Ghandi exclaimed, not wanting to be left out.

I knew that Ghandi secretly liked Icha, and Icha secretly liked him too. But for some reason, they still hadn't become a couple.

"Okay, what play should we create?" Ghandi asked all of us.

"Romeo and Juliet," Devano blurted out.

***

Usually, raindrops water the plants and all creatures on Earth. From there, life on Earth can grow and flourish. However, since then, the rain has been dripping with longing for my race. It's also from there that love has blossomed in my soul.

"Juliet, I won't stand for you being owned by a man like Paris. Marry me. I've loved you since we first met at the party," Romeo said, kneeling in front of Juliet.

"That's not it, Romeo, I love you too, but..." Juliet replied.

Before Juliet could finish her response, Romeo stood up, gazed deeply into Juliet's eyes, and kissed her right cheek before embracing her. Instantly, Juliet's face turned as red as a newly bloomed rose.

"What about Rosaline?" Juliet asked after being embraced by the tall and broad-shouldered teenager named Romeo.

"I will leave her for you, Juliet. I never loved her. My family is forcing me to marry that woman someday," Romeo explained. In reality, Juliet was also being forced to marry by her family.

"I'm also being forced, Romeo, I don't love him," Juliet said with a sad expression.

"Let's run away to get married, Juliet. We can live happily," Romeo tightly held Juliet's hand.

"How can I refuse you? I love you too." Instantly, Juliet's eyes sparkled, and she nodded in agreement with Romeo's request. Juliet loved Romeo too.

They both held hands and left the theater stage. Walking away from the audience. The theater performance went very smoothly and was a success.

Romeo and Juliet, as well as Paris and Rosaline, who had just entered the theater stage, stood and bowed, instantly greeted by the enthusiastic applause of the audience.

Indonesian Language teacher, Mrs. Asih, and their classmates, had witnessed a short theater performance about "The Love Story of Romeo and Juliet." Baliroom Theater once again silently witnessed their love story, Adina and Devano.

Home, 08.14 AM.

The theater performance was very sweet, even though it was just a short play. Even though it was just a school assignment. They were all entertained, or more precisely, deeply moved, by each scene of the play. I played the role of Juliet, Devano as Romeo, Ghandi as Paris, and Icha as Rosaline. We all felt very happy. Or more precisely, I did, immersed in Romeo's touch on that stage.

I drowned in Romeo's warm embrace, I mean, of course, Devano. I shouldn't have carried Romeo's sweet gestures and feelings into my life. Although the love story of Romeo and Juliet ended tragically in the play. But my feelings remained sweetly immersed.

"Oh, Adina, you're too lost in your own imagination. Remember who Devano is, who you are." I muttered after spending the day at home, remembering our theater performance yesterday.

The love story behind Romeo and Juliet is actually a scripted work by Shakespeare, created from a poem. In 1562, an English poet named Arthur Brooke created a masterpiece poem titled "The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet." In fact, Arthur himself translated the poem from an Italian story titled "Mariotto and Ganoza," written by Massuccio Salernitano in 1476.

I was in my room.

"Din, it's time for breakfast," Mom said.

"Yes, Mom, just a moment..."

"Mom's waiting, let's have breakfast together."

"Okay... I'm coming..."

I walked from my room to the kitchen and found Mom's homemade duck fried rice. We had breakfast together at the kitchen table. Although it didn't taste as good as Mbak Lastri's cooking, Mom's food was still delicious. It's my favorite food at home.

"Din, tomorrow I'm going to cook a lot," Mom joked.

"What's it for, Mom?" I asked her.

"Do you forget? It's your birthday tomorrow. What's wrong with you, my child? So young and already forgetful."

Mom replied, shaking her head slowly, while joking with me.

"Oh... right, Mom. I completely forgot."

"You forgot your own birthday?"

"Great... let's eat a lot tomorrow."

"Oh yeah... Your friends were invited yesterday, right? Ask Icha for help in the kitchen."

"Mom, what about Devano?"

"Invite him too, Din. All of you, Adhina. Ghandi too. After all, you're all good friends."

"Okay, Mom," I replied with a happy smile.

Every time it's my birthday, Mom celebrates it simply. Typically, with Mom's dishes. She prepares yellow rice with some of my favorite sides.

Usually, yellow rice is paired with fried chicken. But in our case, when it's my birthday, fried duck is the perfect match for yellow rice. I don't know why, but I really love that dish. Especially duck fried rice. Hmmmm... it's my absolute favorite. My taste buds can't resist it.

"Van, can you come over tomorrow?" My fingers typed on the phone screen.

This was the first time for Devano to join in celebrating my birthday. I was confused, my fingers were deleting and changing the words on the screen.

"How should I tell Devano that tomorrow is my birthday and invite him to celebrate it at home? Oh... why am I making it so complicated..!" I muttered to myself. I had already sent messages via chat to Ghandi and Icha. They said they would come. Just like last year, they made time to come to my house for the celebration.

Rain danced in the sky. Take me with you. So that he knows that besides the beautiful rainbow, there's also me, who's worth waiting for.

School, 09:00 AM

The bell rang, indicating our first break. The square-shaped chairs, each about 30 centimeters wide, were made of stainless steel, along with the larger desks, just enough for me.

You see, our school is an expensive one with limited class capacity. Each class can only accommodate 20 students with chairs and desks to match the number of students.

All the lessons here are taught using projectors and upgraded methods. Many things here are modern and, of course, expensive. Fortunately, I received a scholarship. So, I could enjoy and make use of all the facilities at Zidduya.

The classroom atmosphere emptied as all my friends headed to the cafeteria. I remained seated, still feeling the same, with emotions I'd never felt before. Embarrassment, confusion, mixed with anxiety about how to tell Devano. Tonight, we would be celebrating my 16th birthday.

"Din..."

A handsome, sweet, tall guy, and unfortunately, someone I had a crush on, suddenly appeared out of nowhere, breaking my reverie. Devano Samuel Escapra, the dream boy of almost all the girls at school, from the ordinary ones to the popular girls like the theater club.

The most popular club in school, especially among teenage girls.

"Ehh....yeah.." I replied, slightly surprised.

"Why are you alone here?" he asked.

"Oh... it's okay. I'm not in the mood for the cafeteria yet."

"Here...!" He handed me a small pink gift box, about five centimeters in size, with pictures of flowers on the can refuse."

"Van, can you come to my house tomorrow?" My fingers typed through the screen of my phone.

This would be Devano's first time celebrating my birthday with me. I was puzzled, my fingers deleting and rewriting the words on the phone screen.

"How should I tell Devano that tomorrow is my birthday? And invite him to celebrate it at my house. Ahh, why is this so complicated!" I muttered to myself. I had already messaged Ghandi and Icha via chat. They said they would come. Just like last year, they had made time to come over and celebrate.

Rain danced in the sky. Take me with you. So he knows that besides beautiful rainbows, there's also me, who's worth waiting for.

School, 09:00 AM

The bell rang, signaling our first break. The square-shaped seats, about 30 centimeters in size, were made of stainless steel, along with the larger desks, could accommodate only me.

You see, our school was an expensive one with limited class sizes. Each class was limited to 20 students with corresponding chairs and desks.

All learning here was done using projectors and upgraded methods. Everything here was modern and, of course, expensive. Luckily, I had a scholarship, so I could enjoy and make use of all of Zidduya's facilities.

The classroom felt empty, with only me sitting there lost in thought. My friends had all headed to the cafeteria. I was the same, with feelings I had never experienced before. Embarrassment, confusion, and anxiety about how to tell Devano. Tonight, we would celebrate my 16th birthday.

"Din..."

A handsome, sweet, tall guy, and unfortunately, I had a crush on him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he interrupted my thoughts. Devano Samuel Escapra, the dream of almost every girl in school, from ordinary girls to idolized theater club members.

The most popular club in school, especially among teenage girls.

"Umm...yeah..." I answered, a bit startled.

"Why are you alone here?" he asked.

"Oh...it's nothing. I just didn't feel like going to the cafeteria."

"Here...!" He handed me a small, pink gift box about five centimeters in size with flower patterns on the wrapping.

"What's this, Van..?" I still didn't understand what he was doing.

"It's your birthday gift."

"Huh...what...?"

I still didn't grasp what he was saying. He was the first person to give me a birthday gift. I should have been happy, but instead, I felt confused.

"Oh God, what kind of trial is this? He's known for changing girlfriends frequently. Ugh... Why does he have to like me?" I thought to myself.

"That's your birthday gift. If you don't want it, you can give it back...!"

"Ugh...are you serious about giving this or not? Why ask for it back?"

I was a little annoyed with the mischievous guy in front of me. There were no sweet words or gestures that one would expect when receiving a gift. At least something sweet or anything that would make me like him more. Luckily, he's handsome, so I forgave him.

"Yeah...take it already and open it."

"I'll open it then.."

I fell silent for a moment after opening it...

***