Fiction Campus
SEQUENCE 17

All right, we're back in my world. It was in a maze of confusion. Trying to find Mus. Set up his coffee order in a small shop, based on his order on WhatsApp messenger.

A few minutes until I forget myself. A novel called 'Fiction Campus' is ready to go. All are short stories that have been successfully told to you before. And that is the embodiment of my promise to Mus. I feel like I'll be interrogated after meeting him.

Let's just say this is the first epilogue of the prologue part of this story's plot. Yeah, before I actually bring up the real epilogue. The time when I lost something big. Ah, I think I want to end it here. I can't bear to make you sad later in the story. But this is for Mus and Hajar. I will tell you his profound continuation. So, for this first epilogue, I'm going to tell you a little bit in a few hundred words.

“You overestimated the statusless silly romance into this educational story,” little protest Mus while pointing to the cover of the Fiction Campus novel that is already in the form of a ready-made paper collection. The novel was already read by him.

“Sorry, but Hajar really cannot be separated from the powder of his plot. He really comes as a gentle companion and encourages all forms of emotional me .. to move forward,”, I said with a little defensive tone. “He played well in covering my heroism until our green campus grew healthy and fit.

Mus simply nodded deeply and remained faithful harboring the rest of his meaning. I really can't guess the contents and the secular message. I was always happier when he seemed to be piqued by the stains of his intelligence as he used to be, voicing his dreams as loud as a takbir vibe, and tossed in the labyrinth of his genius to simply be a teenage Socrates that no crust of the world has ever seen.

For that, I want to show him to you more than myself.

Unfortunately, I exceeded her role as the main character who had to try to connect our dreams both. I hope you understand. Mus, has a new status now. I'll tell you in the follow-up chapter. And Picolo, remember? He is looking forward to Hajar as a new dream road on the other side of Australia. I waited for the ins and outs of their struggle.

“You don't want to go back there?”

“Clearly I really want to go home.”

“You haven't even had time to part or meet your superhero Bang Alen, have you?”

“Hem.”

“You're desperate now?”

“I don't mean that. I just don't know how to say goodbye to him and go back to the greenhouse to arrange my graduation here. Yes, especially for Mr. Iwan. I don't know what kind of metaphorical sentence to hold back his embrace later.”

“Hem, and now you still want to be like this forever? Depart now education fighter!”

“Oh?”

“I will continue my pending story. It's just, you'll play a different role and become my lecturer, Big Bos!”

"Are we really going to write a second story? We should have experienced the dilemma first. Isn't the first story, is a series of events and our sad dreams that are finally achieved temporarily?"

"You're overreacting on thinking about it all. Stories don't have to be beautiful forever. For the second part, let's just go slowly about our time in Melbourne, Bee."

"If it's just comfort, people won't like it."

"Aren't they going to read the first story first? They definitely want to be given time to enjoy the hard work of the main character!"

"I'm just like this, Bee. Do I have to give up for a better result? I don't think it's gonna be enough to beat your writing experience."

"So, you agree?"

"Yes, but what kind of drama should we present? Are we really not able to create the enjoyment of the outcome of the first story?"

"Not really, I don't really want to take away this moment, Mus. I just want to capture it. You don't want me to be a jumping flea, do you?"

"Sounds very funny, Bee."

"Haha, right. Just imagine if I was like a flea whose job is to taste the blood of other people's lives, but can't enjoy it with the peace of life."

"Then, we're gonna play a role and so what's in the second part? I mean ... once we've enjoyed this moment."

"Em, I don't think there is yet. I'm empty, Mus. Even if Hajar suddenly came to Melbourne, I don't think it could be quite an impressive drama to write later."

And like a prayer, that moment my phone rang. The name descended from the hopeful seventh heaven. That name made me happy some time. The world stopped but my heart didn't. The name created a sudden, thrilling pulse of life. Full of echoes and taste. Feelings like rainbows and fleas are expertly grateful.

"Hajar, it's been a long time since he ..."

"Hasta la Vista, Bee!"

"Why are you saying such a phrase, Mus?"

"Hajar? I don't think it was the timing of the message that made your face color change, but rather the content of the message. Because I'm sure you'll keep sending messages after you leave the land of Sumbawa."

"Yes, exactly. It's just that, unlike what you fully expect, Mus. The last time I told him, it was six months ago. If calculated there is only three times the quality time in reply to our message."

"Then?"

"What?"

"That's the message."

"Oh, he said he's been in Melbourne since two days ago."

Mus spouted his coffee. Maybe hearing my words earlier, like receiving information that Indonesia won the world cup.