You are the Only One
18. The Flavored

Owen

I did not expect that what would make me aware of the confusion and that made me escape from the entanglement of unanswered questions like a tangled thread in my brain was this male bacot.

The guy I used to see and I heard nothing much. But who would have thought. Although it did not often put out words, after speaking, what came out were trash words like the one he had just said.

"Now because you already know, so please sign the letter."

My attention suddenly shifted from the middle of nowhere to him for a few seconds, then it was fixed on the paper in question.

The letter still on the floor. The letter that somehow could be tangled, I really can not remember why the paper was tangled like that. Letter entitled "Letter of Approval of the Appointment of the Child".

What the fxck is going on this fxcker's mind?

After that, no one could hold my hand from lifting fist after fist onto his perfect face. With great anger I rubbed the face of Olavia's future husband.

The Beautiful. Name's Olavia.

And my son. Name's Oleander.

Owen. Olavian. Oleanders.

Fxck.

I think someone just knocked the air out of my lungs. And I'm fully aware that it wasn't Angga's. From then on he just kept quiet and received punch after punch that I put towards his face.

It's not like I managed to land a lot of punches on that face. Just some. And that pain is incredible.

You fucking giant. His bones are hard as steel.

I stopped and threw my body back on the floor. Fxck. My breath is snoring. Not only because of the boxing "workout" I just did, but also because of the "weird" feeling I felt in the chest.

Shxt.

What is happening with me?

I feel like my feelings are everywhere. I feel like I am interested everywhere. I feel like my heart can't determine what it wants to feel. I was surprised because I had a child. Confused, because why did Olavia hide it all this time from me. I'm worried because of what I'm going to do with this information. What am I going to do next? I can't act like I don't know anything about Oleander. I can't pretend I don't know at all.

What about my career? What impact will I receive if this news is spread to the media? Fxck. No, no, no. I can't give birth to another scandal anymore. I can't create chaos anymore. Could-can Bram really hang me later.

Fxck. Fxck. Fxck. Fxck.

I feel a little relieved because I made a unilateral decision about this. I was relieved because, behind the demands of my manager who gave me instructions to report everything I did to him, I did not tell Bram anything about Angga's arrival. The news he delivered literally to my lap.

Fxcking.

However, it cannot be denied. I also felt very fond of the taste that was evoked when I mentioned our names one by one. Owen. Olavian. Oleanders.

I've gone mad. I've gone mad.

"Get out," I command in between breaths that start to get regular. "Get the fxck out of my house."

I have to get him out of here. I need to get him out of this house as soon as possible so I can think more calmly. So that my brain can function more correctly, better. So I can plan everything.

Of course before I do all that I have to drive this fucking Giant Bear away.

"Get the fxck out!" I pointed to the front door that could still be seen from the room we were in. "Be out of here right now. And bring this fucking paper back to Jakarta. I don't want any autographs!"

When I saw Angga who was still leaning against the wall behind him that did not move at all, I snatched the paper from the floor and I slapped it into his chest. I pulled her big arm so she could stand up.

Fxck. This man is built like a brick. He's so fxcking heavy. Son of a bitxh.

After struggling alone for a few seconds, this damn Angga finally wants to help me to lift his heavy ass. His right hand was already holding the small black backpack he had brought with him. After he stood up, I then pushed his body towards the door. His steps were dragged there.

"Go from here. Go awayl. Fuckin." I kept fussing between my attempts to get the Powerless Giant Bear to return to its origin. "Basic anxing. Go lo."

Right when I got to the door, I stepped in front of him (fucking he didn't raise his head when I dragged earlier), I half whispered half growling. "And keep your mouth open during the journey back to the habitat. I don't want anyone to know other than the people who know about this now. If the media hears all this, I will sue you. I don't care who your son is, I don't care if you have more money than me, I don't care if you have any becking from anywhere. I don't care. What is clear, if you dare to say one word about this, you can. I drag your ass to court until the last drop of blood!"

****

Goslings

I'm not really aware of what I'm doing. After being battered by the damn bastard, pulled and dragged out of his house, and threatened with ridiculousness, I walked down the path back to the big road. I ordered a taxi online. While waiting, I took the time to wash my face with the rice field water flowing near where I was waiting for my invitation.

"Fxcking hell." I hissed as the water touched the wounds around my face.

God fucking. Those soft hands can still hurt my skin.

After that, I lifted my shirt to wipe my face. It made me feel the shape of my clothes.

God fucking. That skinny guy wins a lot now. Not only did it make my face hurt and bruised, but it also remodeled the shape of the clothes I was wearing.

Soon I opened the old gray short-sleeved plain Henley T-shirt and replaced it with the same shirt but with light gray. Then I wet the broken cloth with the rice field water again (on this stage I no longer care about cleanliness) and back patting my face alakadarnya, he said, especially on the left cheek and jaw. Because that's where the crime scene is.

After feeling quite "clean", I took out my mask, hat, and Rayban glasses from the bag. I wear everything.

Done.

At least, for the time being it could be said done.

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