Erin looked at the list of employees in her database. Of all the names, she only recognized a few, and even fewer faces. The problem was simple: she didn't have much interaction with most of them. There was no reason for her to hang out with people she had no business with.

The third floor was always busy. Employees there were constantly working, often bringing their laptops even during breaks. The second and fourth floors housed six shooting studios, filled with production crews, admins, and teachers. The only exception was Studio 6 on the second floor, which had been converted into a storage space for shooting props. The first floor had three meeting rooms for guests and a pantry.


Erin's choices for socializing were limited to the people on the third floor or the production team, which meant getting close to Steve—something she actively avoided. In the beginning, Erin would hang out with the creative team. However, their division, consisting of five people, was sent to work full-time from home while the company searched for a larger office. Erin hadn't heard any updates about that move since.

She leaned against the door of her office, looking out at the empty space. Everyone was out for lunch.

Well, this is what I get for acting so idealistic, she thought. Erin could have easily made friends by being more sociable. She could've accepted Steve's invitations and joined his group, but that meant letting her self-esteem get trampled by those perverted men and their fantasies.


Sigh. God forbid. Erin rubbed her arms, feeling goosebumps. Maybe lunch outside would cheer her up. She quickly closed the office door and checked her phone for nearby restaurants.

Moonga Café, just three minutes away from the office.


In the midday heat, Erin walked in her heels, shielding her face with her phone until she arrived at the café, panting. Despite it being daytime, the café was quiet. The interior, dominated by soft brown and cream tones, with dim lighting, was soothing to Erin's eyes.

She scanned the room for the best seat. Every chair looked comfortable, with soft cushions and just the right table height for her tall frame. But in the corner of the room, a man and a woman were waving enthusiastically at her.

Erin glanced behind her, but there was no one there. She looked back at them, and they were still waving.

Erin pointed to herself, and they nodded in unison.

The woman had one side of her hair tied up and wore a Sabrina-style dress. She was so thin her collarbone stood out. The man, wearing glasses, sported comma bangs and a sage-green oversized shirt, clearly inspired by South Korean fashion, which suited him well.

"Erin, right?" they both asked as she approached.

"Yes, that's me. Sorry, do I know you two?"

"Sit down!" The man motioned to the chair beside him.

Still confused, Erin took a seat. But their friendly smiles and confident gestures, combined with their trendy looks, made her feel at ease. They seemed like the kind of fun people she could befriend.

"Honestly, your question just now really offended us," the man said with a playful pout.

"Offensive!" The woman echoed in an exaggerated British accent.

"This only confirms our unpopularity as employees at our company," the man added.

"Even though we're sales, miss! We're the backbone of this company. If we weren't here, the entire office wouldn't eat!" the man exaggerated dramatically. "Right, Taaa?"

"Eiiiim!" the man replied effeminately, with a giggle.

"Oh, wait—so sales are working remotely too?" Erin suddenly remembered that sales and creative used to share space on the fourth floor, the noisiest place in the building. But that area had gone silent when those teams began working from home.

"Yeah, sis. At first, WFH was great, but after a while, it got boring. And it's expensive because we end up hanging out at cafés a lot!" the man whined.

"Ugh, don't remind me! I spend half my money on coffee every day!" the woman groaned.

"Oh... And what are your names?" Erin asked. Both of them glared at her playfully. "I mean, I forgot! My bad, right? Right?"

"Yes, I'm Mimi, sis."

"Anyway, I'm Tata. But don't add ‘Janeta,' or I'll become that popular beautiful singer,'" he teased, pretending to toss his hair back dramatically behind his ear, Tata playfully tucked his hair back and smiled mischievously.

"Yes, yes. Mimi and Tata, nice to meet you. I'm really sorry—I honestly forgot if we had met before."

"Who says we've met?" they both asked in unison, a perfect display of their synchronized energy.

Erin blinked, confused. "Wait, so... do you know me?"

"Miss Erin, who doesn't? You're the cool secretary who's always topping FYP on the production kids' TikTok."

"Seriously, Ta? I'm often on FYP?"

"Yes! Even though I look like this, I'm in the Company's Boys group chat. They always share videos of you dancing on TikTok, and sis, let me tell you—you've got some moves! They're addicted to your swaying!" Tata grinned.

For the first time in her life, Erin was flattered by a man complimenting her dancing. Surprisingly, it didn't make her feel uncomfortable. Instead, her lips curled into a soft smile. "Thanks. You should try dancing too. Maybe it's time for the boys to start a challenge."

Tata shook his head dramatically. "Nope. It's enough for Mimi to witness my killer moves."

"And it's more than enough for me to feel nauseous watching them!" Mimi chimed in with mock disgust.

"Oh, haha, screw you!" Tata retorted.

"Screw you too!" Mimi shot back playfully.

Their sarcasm and playful banter brought a warm, unfamiliar feeling to Erin's heart. It felt as though the world would be just fine with friends like this—pandemic or zombie apocalypse, everything could be laughed through. Erin was already convinced—being friends with these two would be fun.

"Let's order while we chat," Mimi suggested, pulling out her phone. She scanned the barcode on the table, bringing up the menu. "What do you feel like eating, Miss Erin?"

"Any recommendations?" Erin asked, looking over her shoulder at the pictures on the wall.

"Truffle fries, yasss! Cordon bleu is decent, but for tens of thousands rupiahs, it's a steal. And if you want something heavier, the lamb fried rice is fire. I think I'll stick with the beef sandwich today though—end of the month budget, you know?" Tata said with a cheeky smile.

"Don't worry, it's my treat," Erin offered generously.

"Sis, be careful with Tata—he'll send you weird emojis to thank you!" Mimi teased, slapping Tata's arm.

"Shut up!" Tata rolled his eyes, grinning. "Fine, I'll have the steak. You okay with that, Miss Erin?"

"Go for it," Erin said with a nod.

"I'll have that too!" Mimi chimed in quickly.

"Yeah, just order already, Mi!" Tata teased.

"Okay, so it's steak for us both. What about you, Miss Erin?" Mimi asked.

Erin's gaze returned to the wall, where her eyes locked onto a rice bowl with a soft, half-cooked omelet on top. "I think I'll have the rice bowl with the omelet. What's the name of that one?"

Mimi scrolled through the menu. "It doesn't really have a name, it just says ‘rice bowl,' but that's the one you're eyeing. Want it?"

"Yep, that's it. And just some cold mineral water, please."

"Alright, what are you drinking, Ta?" Mimi turned to Tata.

"When someone's treating, the best thing is to order a cocktail. But it feels a bit much for midday."

Erin blinked. Cocktails? These two seemed even more like her kind of people than she had thought.

"Just get mineral water, Ta—you can't get drunk in the middle of the day!" Mimi scoffed.

Tata smirked. "It's only seven percent alcohol—hardly drunk. Kid!"

"Are you really good at drinking, Ta?" Erin asked, curious.

Tata flipped his hair dramatically. "I'm the queen of drinking, Miss Erin. Ask Mimi if you don't believe me."

"Yeah, he's strong," Mimi confirmed, rolling her eyes. "But then he got drunk and had a fever the next morning."

"That was just one time!" Tata protested.

"Which club do you guys usually go to?" Erin asked, steering the conversation before their banter spiraled again.

"02. It's our favorite. The chicken feet there are to die for!" Tata said.

"You're serious? You go for the chicken feet?" Erin asked, incredulous.

"But there's a new club opening soon, Miss Erin—Big D Poltas, in South Jakarta. Heard of it?"

"I had no idea!" Erin exclaimed.

Mimi shook her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, Miss Erin, you're losing your touch! Not very pro of you."

"Well, honestly, I rarely go out at night. Not anymore. But it sounds fun! We should go sometime, okay?"

"Yes, first of the month. We can let loose," Tata said with a wink. "And are you paying, Miss Erin?" he added cheekily.

"Sure," Erin laughed. "Why not?"

"Relax, sis," Mimi interjected, covering Tata's mouth. "Let's not get too comfortable asking her to treat us every time."

"Haha, fair enough!" Erin laughed. "Have you ordered yet?"

"All done," Mimi said, setting her phone down. "So... how have you been, sis? You feeling at home at this company?"

"Actually, I've got a question for you guys first," Erin said, leaning forward. "You've been here a while, right?"

"Yeah, almost a year now," Tata nodded. Erin's mind raced. If they'd been around that long, they probably knew a lot about Amir...

"So... do you know if Amir is married?" she asked casually, trying not to sound too eager.

The two of them instantly froze, eyes wide and cheeks turning red. Erin had to suppress a smile. They weren't subtle at all.

"So, it's true, isn't it? You like Mr. Amir!" Tata teased, nearly jumping out of his seat.

"Not really," Erin shrugged, keeping her voice calm. "I'm just curious."

"Are you serious, Miss Erin?!" Mimi joined in, now equally excited.

"Hey! Can you answer my question first?" Erin demanded playfully.

"Hehe, sorry, Miss Erin. We just got a bit carried away," Tata chuckled, his grin wide as ever. "As far as we know, Amir is not married. Right, Ta?" Mimi looked at Tata, hoping for confirmation.

"He's super single and available." Tata added, his hands moving gracefully as he spoke.

Erin squinted, still unsure. "Are you sure? That doesn't seem right."

"Of course!" Tata reassured her, a sly smile on his face. "Even though we're not in the office inner circle, we're excellent gossipers."

"Seriously, Ta? But why does Steve keep hinting that Amir is no longer single?"

Mimi's frustration was immediate as she slammed her hand on the table, shaking her head. "Ugh, that man! Koh Steve lives to cause drama. In his world, there's no such thing as peace—only chaos."

Tata leaned in conspiratorially. "You know what? Koh Steve once spread a screenshot of my profile from a gay dating app." His eyes flicked to Erin's, watching her reaction. "Now tell me—how'd he even get my profile if he wasn't on the app himself?"

"Aah, so you..." Erin trailed off, realizing she didn't know how to finish the sentence without being awkward.

Tata smiled softly. "Yes, I know what you're thinking, and I'm totally fine with the label 'gay.' But to be honest, I think I'm more non-binary. Still figuring it out. I might also be sapiosexual. I mean, I don't care about gender, but I can't just feel attracted to anyone."

Mimi jumped in. "Whatever! You're human to us, and that's what matters."

Tata laughed, giving Mimi a high-five. "Exactly!"

Erin smiled, feeling comfortable in their presence. "So, you have a pretty good radar, right? You can usually guess if someone's gay?"

"Of course! Tata's my lifesaver." Mimi grinned, nudging Tata. "He even helped me reject a guy who was only interested in me so he could borrow my car and parade his cat around."

"Please," Tata groaned, rolling his eyes. "That guy was a mess. Cats, dogs—it's all the same."

Erin leaned forward, her curiosity finally bubbling over. "So, do you think Amir could be... you know, gay?"

The moment she asked, both Mimi and Tata's eyes went wide. They exchanged glances, clearly taken aback.

"Are you kidding me?" Tata burst out. "He's straight obvi."

"Really? Are you sure?" Erin pressed, feeling a little silly for asking but needing confirmation.

"Why would you think that?" Mimi asked, her voice nearly whiny with surprise.

"I don't know, I guess because he's so... distant?" Erin shrugged.

Tata snorted. "Maybe you're just not his type. Have you seen his ex? She's like, super geeky—total librarian vibes."

"Wait, Amir has an ex?" Erin perked up, immediately curious. "Who is it?"

"Mrs. Kia, from HR," Mimi and Tata said in perfect unison.

Erin's mind quickly conjured up an image of Kia. She was small, with shoulder-length hair, thick glasses, and always wore a black knitted vest over her button-up shirts. She paired them with pants or long skirts, and her brown loafers were well-worn from use.

Erin couldn't help but compare herself to Kia—a tall woman, usually in short skirts, with perfectly styled wavy hair, fitted outfits, and high heels that made her already towering figure even taller.

"No wonder Amir said I wasn't his type," Erin muttered, propping her chin on her hand, feeling a sudden weight settle over her.

Tata's expression softened. "Oh, Miss Erin, don't feel like that. Everyone's got their own tastes, but that doesn't mean you're not amazing."

Erin laughed softly, imagining Nathan, her brother, finding out that Amir's type was someone like Kia. He'd probably laugh at her for a full seven days and seven nights.

***