'As I stepped out of the place that had always made me feel safe, I refused to lift my head. I didn't want to raise my face, nor did I want to see how bright that day was. It wasn't that I didn't wish to see the beauty of the world, but I was running from the truth-that I had broken the heart of the young man I loved. I couldn't even look at the sky because it reminded me of him. I was a star who had betrayed the sky by refusing to stay with him and gaze upon him.'

"Mrs. Bintang."

A staff member hurried toward the young woman who had already reached the front lobby.

The shoulder-length-haired woman turned. Bintang was the marketing director at her father's company. She stopped walking and waited for her staff to catch up.

"Your umbrella, Ma'am." The staff handed her a folding umbrella.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot," Bintang said with a faint smile.

The staff gave her the umbrella, then handed over the documents she had also left behind.

"This too, Ma'am. Good thing you hadn't left yet."

Bintang took the folder of documents, closing her eyes briefly and shaking her head at her carelessness for forgetting something so important.

"Thank you. I almost left it behind, even though these are important documents," she said gratefully.

"You're welcome, Ma'am."

Bintang excused herself because she had to meet a client. It had been a year since she began working at her father's company as the marketing director, thanks to her ability to interact well with people and attract investors for her family's banking business.

She opened her folding umbrella and walked beneath it, shielding herself from the blazing sun and from the sight of the sky.

'I keep trying not to think about you, because I know the mistake I made hurt you and wounded you deeply. I avoid everything because I'm aware I'm no longer worthy of seeing you-my lips aren't even worthy of speaking your name.'

**

"Your favorite, hot chocolate."

A cup of hot chocolate was placed on the table, the steam rising with an aroma that teased the senses.

"Thank you," Bintang said with a wide smile, looking at Anta who still stood after setting down the drink.

Anta sat across from Bintang, meeting his cousin who came for their usual lunch at his café.

After graduating college, Anta had been more interested in growing the family business than working at his grandfather's company. He preferred dealing with cups, food ingredients, and everything in between, rather than stacks of paperwork.

"Just finished meeting a client?" Anta guessed.

"Yes. Thankfully, everything went smoothly," Bintang replied before sipping her hot chocolate.

"Slow down," Anta said as she burned her tongue.

He grabbed a tissue and handed it to her. Bintang took it and wiped her lips.

"Thank you," she said after wiping her mouth.

"Bin, you could ask your staff to meet clients. Why do you always go yourself?" Anta asked, puzzled. His cousin was a director, yet she always handled everything personally.

"I could ask my staff to take care of it, but I'm building trust, Ta. This way, clients will believe in us and won't have doubts, because I, as the director, handle it myself," Bintang explained.

Anta kept watching her. She was still the same as before-hardworking and naturally good with people. But he felt something had changed. She no longer smiled warmly and sincerely like she used to. All that remained was the forced smile she showed to make others comfortable, even when she wasn't.

"Eight years have passed so quickly. Back then, all we knew was playing and studying, and now here we are managing our family businesses," Anta said while looking outside the café.

Although he said they played a lot, that wasn't true for Bintang.

"Well ... isn't that what we studied for?" Bintang replied. She picked up her cup again, blew on the rising steam, and took a slow sip.

Anta turned his gaze from the window back to Bintang. He watched his cousin who appeared cheerful but carried immeasurable pain inside.

"Bin, what's your goal for the future?" Anta asked.

Bintang paused, the cup stopping midway. She seemed to think, then looked at him. A goal-did she even have one? And if she did, could she ever achieve it?

"I'm not sure. I don't know. All I know is that right now, I'm just living what I can live," she answered with a small smile.

Anta continued to observe her, and out of playful curiosity he asked, "If Langit suddenly came back and stood in front of you, would you meet him?"

The question made Bintang's heart race. She looked at him with an expression that couldn't be described. Langit-the name she had never spoken again. If they were to meet, would he even want to talk to her? She remembered the pain in his eyes eight years ago. After so many years, would he be willing to speak to her again?

"Let's not talk about that. You know how things were between us. And besides, it's been eight years, Ta. I'm not sure he even remembers me," she replied with a bitter smile.

Anta watched her closely. Yes, eight years had passed, but he was certain Bintang still loved Langit just as much as she did before they parted.

'I'm too ashamed to face him. It was my fault for carving that wound into his heart. If fate were to bring us together again, I'm not even sure he would want to recognize me. Truly, if I'm allowed to hope, then I hope not to meet him. I'm too much of a coward to take responsibility for what I've done.'

"El, come home with me," Joya kept coaxing her son, hoping he would return to Indonesia with her.

"No, Mom. I prefer staying here," Langit refused for the umpteenth time.

He was already dressed neatly, preparing to leave for work. Langit worked at Magnifique's main headquarters in Paris.

"I don't care what you say. I'll ask them to fire you so you'll be forced to return to Indonesia!" Joya threatened, having run out of ways to persuade him.

Langit had lived in that country far too long. Because of a heartbreak, he had left the place he was born, running away from his past.

He looked at his mother-frustrated, desperate-before cupping her face and smiling gently at the woman who had given birth to him.

"Mom, I'm really not ready to go back. Please don't force me," Langit pleaded, then kissed her forehead.

Joya froze. She still didn't fully understand what had happened eight years ago that made Langit insist on transferring schools even though exams were near. She had been threatened that if she didn't transfer him, he would never continue his studies. And without hesitation, Langit demanded to move abroad.

Langit left for work, leaving Joya alone in the apartment. She could only keep searching for ways to bring her son home.

**

Langit tried working as usual, but his focus was shattered by his mother's constant pleas for him to return.

"Why do you look distracted today?" one of his coworkers asked in English.

"Nothing. I'm just a bit tired," Langit replied with a thin smile.

His coworker glanced around, then looked at Langit as he resumed typing.

"El, do you have time tonight? How about we grab a drink?" the tall, beautiful woman asked.

Everyone knew about Langit's reputation-how he slept with many women, some of whom even offered themselves just to see what he was like in bed.

Langit went silent at her invitation, then answered, "Alright. After work."

She smiled, cleared her throat lightly, and walked away.

He actually didn't want to go, but the thought of hearing Joya's nagging again made him accept the offer.

**

In Indonesia, nighttime had arrived as Bintang returned from work. She stepped out of her car, entered the house, and was greeted by the warm voice that always soothed her heart.

"You're home? Want me to make you hot chocolate or something else?" Annetha asked when she saw Bintang come in.

Bintang placed her blazer on the back of the sofa and walked to the dining room, where Annetha was preparing dinner.

"What did you cook?" Bintang asked, eyeing the dishes one by one.

"Beef stew, just for you as usual," Annetha replied while glancing at her daughter.

Bintang smiled broadly and kissed her mother's cheek.

"I'm going to shower first, Mom. Hot chocolate sounds good," she said before leaving the dining room.

Annetha smiled, relieved to see her daughter looking cheerful and carefree. She had worried that Bintang might be stressed and that it would affect her health. She and her husband had done everything to keep her mentally well.

Bintang entered her room-now drastically different. Her old study desk had been replaced by a vanity full of makeup. The pink walls were now a soft nude tone, matching the new version of herself. The origami stars that once hung by the window had vanished.

She undressed, preparing to shower, when thunder suddenly boomed. The already-dark sky grew even darker as black clouds rolled in.

Bintang walked to the window, staring at the sky now hidden by storm clouds. That bleak night reminded her of the night she broke a young man's heart-along with her own.

"Langit, how are you? If we ever meet again, could you forgive me?"

The words slipped from her lips without command. Though she feared meeting him, she couldn't deny the wish to free herself from eight years of guilt.

Everyone thought she was doing fine, but she had spent all these years burying pain and regret. Sometimes she wondered why she had been so cruel-why she had crushed the heart of the boy she had loved so deeply.

**

Paris, France.

Langit went to a club with the woman who had invited him. They sat at the bar and ordered drinks. They toasted and downed several glasses.

"You refused to date me. I'm surprised you agreed to drink with me, El. I thought you were avoiding me," she said after finishing her drink.

"I just don't want any kind of attachment. If you want to go out with me, it's a no-strings-attached date. Even sleeping together would be voluntary, with no commitment," Langit replied casually, sipping the brown liquid in his crystal glass.

The woman swirled her drink, her eyes fixed on him.

Noticing her gaze, Langit set his glass down and leaned slightly closer.

She studied his face intently. His friends were right-Langit was exceptionally attractive, with a charm that made women fall at his feet.

"Want to take things further?" Langit asked, his voice low.

"If you want to, I don't mind," she answered with a seductive smile.

Meanwhile, Joya grew anxious. Langit hadn't returned home, and work had ended an hour ago. She tried calling him, but he didn't answer.

"Where is he?" Joya paced in worry, imagining the worst-especially if Langit was fooling around again.

"No, I can't let this continue. I have to find a way to bring him back to Indonesia."

She thought hard. She couldn't let her son's future be destroyed by the nightlife of that city.

**

Langit went to the woman's apartment. They had drunk a lot and decided to go to her place to do what they had implied at the club.

"You live alone, right?" Langit asked as they entered.

"Yes. If I didn't, I'd have taken you to a hotel instead," she replied, setting her bag on the sofa.

She turned toward him, slipping off her blazer in a sensual motion.

"Do you want to shower first, or ...." she teased, letting her words trail off for him to choose.

"I can do things in any condition," Langit said. He pulled her by the waist, closing the distance between them.

"Even if you want to do it in the shower, I can," he added.

She smiled, wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her lips to his. Their mouths moved together, deep and hungry.

They walked slowly, lips still locked, until they reached the bedroom.

Langit was putting his shirt back on-the same one that had ended up on the floor. A part of him didn't want to go home, yet he couldn't bear the thought of leaving his mother alone in the apartment, possibly worrying about him even now.

The woman who had just made love with him sat on the bed, the blanket wrapped around her bare body. She watched the broad back of the man who had sent her soaring into bliss.

"El, why did you tattoo a star on your back?" she asked when she noticed the ink on his shoulder blade.

Langit glanced over his shoulder. He couldn't see it, but he knew exactly where it was.

"Because I like stars," he replied.

"Why?" she asked, curious.

Langit gave a faint, wry smile but chose not to answer her question.

"I have to go," he said once he had finished getting dressed.

"That's a shame. I still want to be with you. Maybe sleep together again, have a second round, or even a third," she teased lightly.

Langit turned and gave a small smile before saying, "I enjoy sex, but that doesn't mean I'll do it over and over again in one night."

His words struck his coworker sharply. He wasn't a sex addict who needed multiple rounds. He only did it to ease the exhaustion that weighed down his mind-to quiet the longing for a woman he could never have.

Langit drove toward his apartment. He had numerous missed calls from Joya, but he didn't call her back. He chose to go straight home so his mother wouldn't worry.

He had placed the star tattoo on his shoulder blade as a reminder that he couldn't see it himself. Just like his love-he held it in his heart, yet he couldn't truly see it anymore, hidden beneath irritation and bitterness from the past.

He tried to forget, yet he always carried it with him. His heart and mind were constantly at odds, and even now he didn't know what he truly wanted.

I keep trying to forget you, even hiding you deep within my heart. But why won't you leave? Do you intend to keep tormenting me with the hollow love you once spoke of?

**

Joya was frantic. It was already eleven at night, and Langit still hadn't come home. She was so worried she no longer knew where else to look for her son.

"El, where are you? Why are you stressing Mommy out?" Joya stared at the long list of outgoing calls to her son, none of which had been answered.

Then she heard the sound of the door opening. Joya hurried toward it, hoping it was indeed her son. And it was-Langit walked in and closed the door behind him, smiling when he saw his mother's anxious expression.

"Where were you? Why are you coming home at this hour?" Joya asked, her voice full of worry.

"Out with a friend, Mom," Langit replied casually.

He approached his mother and kissed her cheek with his usual sweet smile.

"El, are you drunk?" Joya asked when she smelled alcohol on his breath.

"I only had a little, Mom. If I were drunk, I wouldn't have made it home," he said lightly.

He took off his jacket and tie, then headed to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of his heated encounter.

Joya was at a loss for words. Langit's behavior and dismissive attitude toward her left her exhausted.

"You don't want Mommy here, do you, El?" she said as she watched him about to enter the bathroom.

Langit stopped walking, then turned toward her. Seeing her sad expression, he walked back to her. He couldn't stand seeing his mother look like that.

"Why would you say that, Mom?" he asked, standing before her, looking at her tear-filled eyes.

"Of course Mommy would say that. You come home late, you drink, you sleep around. You don't want to come home with me. Mommy feels like you're ignoring me, El. Mommy worries about you because I love you. But you don't care about Mommy. If one day you're here, and Mommy is gone-don't blame yourself."

Joya was truly frustrated. Her husband had also been a former playboy, but not like her son, who indulged in women carelessly. She no longer understood how heartbreak could turn her son into someone like this.

"Sometimes Mommy doesn't understand. You love so deeply, yet you don't fight for it-you ruin yourself instead. Doesn't that make you the same as her? You say you love her, but you give up just like that. You're being a coward, not like your daddy. He waited five years for Mommy, and even then he didn't become like this. He improved himself and proved to Mommy that he deserved her."