Mithra slams his pen onto the table. That night he heard her sang, he was in the midst of writing a song.  One week later, he still has nothing.  The words that usually come so naturally for him seems to vanish before he even had a chance to pen them down.

 

Mithra is distracted. He can't stop thinking of her.  Her voice.  Her song.  The sorrow she expressed...  and also the anger and hatred he saw in her eyes for that one moment.  Why?  So many whys plagued his thoughts to the point he can't seem to focus. And the thing that bugs him the most is that when she was singing,  she felt oddly familiar...

 

Mithra picks up his coat and heads out. He needs an explanation. Mithra enters the cafe and looks around. She's smiling shyly as per normal when she greets the customers, but the smile.disappears.as soon as the customers.go away. Mithra approaches the counter. Today there wasnt any "Latte for you mithra oppa?" or "annyeonghasaeyo mithra oppa." today it is simply "yes sir. Can i get your order?" she said. Her face void of emotion. It's cold.

 

"Latte Please" Mithra ordered. He knew he had to say something. But himself didnt know what he did wrong. The barista made his drink, eyes intently focusing on the job. She handed him his drink. There was no coffee art. Just smooth, thick, milk foam. Void.

 

Mithra stares at his drink. "did u forget something?" he asks. 

 

She looks at him with a blank expression. "No. Latte. Espresso shot. Milk. Inch of foam." 

 

Mithra took his drink and went to his seat. The coffee didnt taste as good as usual. Even though its warm, it felt cold. Mithra took out his pen, and wrote on his napkin

 

" It’s cold here even when I hide my hands in my pocket
   It’s so cold even when I blow into my hands
   My heart is so frozen that my lips get cracked"

 

Mithra picked up the napkin, placed it on the counter, and left. She saw it, and walked closer. She picks up the napkin, read it, and held it close to her chest. 

 

***

 

 

A 17 yr old mithra wonders around backstage. His friends had joined a talent competition and he was there as moral support. He stopped in his tracks. He heard a beautiful voice singing a solemn melody. The sound was coming from the stairwell. He went closer to take a peek. He saw a really big girl, sitting on the steps, warming up her voice. Yeah. He'll be rooting for her. Hes here for his friend, but his friend cant sing half as good as this girl. He opens the door, shouted "hwaiting!" slammed the door shut, and runs for his friends. 

 

Startled, the girl turns around to see no one. She smiles to her self. Maybe, if there is at least one person rooting for her, she'll be alright she thought.

 

Mithra was getting bored in the audience. The talent show doesnt seem to be full of talent... "please give a warm welcome to our next contestant who goes by the pen name, Dewi!" The MC announced.

 

A big girl enters the stage. A guitar in one hand, and a stool in the other. It was her, the girl he heard in the stairwell. "Assa. Finally real talent" he said to himself. Just then the girl tripped and fell forward, dropping her guitar and stool. The whole auditorium were filled with laughter. There was constant boos and laughters.  She picked up the stool and guitar and set herself infront of the mic. Still the jeering continued. She tried to speak into the mic, but all she heard was laughter. Someone screamed "lose some weight fatgirl!" another screamed "we dont wanna see hippos singing!"

 

***

 

"Thra! Wake up!" tukutz shook mithra up. Mithra fell asleep in the studio again. "My wife and I, together with tablo, hye jung and haru going to have dinner. Wanna come?" Tukutz asked.

 

Mithra opened his eyes. DEWI. He remembers her now! It has got to be her! Mithra took his coat and hastily said "no u guys go ahead. Ive got something to do" and ran out of the studio. 

 

She wasnt at the counter when he arrived at the cafe. Instead it was a guy at the counter. "Errm. The lady barista, the one whos here everyday, is she here today?" he asked.

 

"Chae Eun nuna's taking a break at the back," he said.

 

"Kamsahamnida," mithra said. He went out of the main entrance, and turned into a tiny alley. He saw her, standing with her back against the wall, a cigarette in hand, blowing smoke into the sky. 

 

"May i join u?" he asked, while lighting his Marlboro Reds. She looked at him and said nothing.