My first day at work ended in complete disaster.
When I got home that evening, my mother hurried to open the door the moment she heard the gate.
Her face carried the strange mixture of worry and happiness that only mothers seem capable of.
Seeing my unusually gloomy expression, she didn't ask many questions. Instead, she comforted me gently.
"First day is always difficult. You probably weren't prepared yet. Don't worry, anak. Once you get used to it, things will feel easier."
I groaned, peeled off the hideous office outfit, and threw it onto the bed like it had personally betrayed me.
Then I slipped back into my familiar jeans.
"I'm heading out for a bit," I told her. "You can eat dinner without me."
Honestly, if someone forced me to wear that terrible office uniform again, I might actually start a war.
The moment I climbed onto my motorcycle—wearing clothes that actually belonged to my lifestyle—I felt like a completely different person.
Confidence surged back into my veins.
As I rode through the evening streets, I noticed several girls turning their heads to look.
Although I couldn't tell whether they were admiring my face… or my motorcycle.
***
I was about to stop at a clothing store I frequently visited.
But for some reason, I hesitated outside the entrance.
My wallet was safely in my back pocket this time, so there was no risk of repeating yesterday's humiliation.
And even if I bought on credit here, the shop owner wouldn't complain.
Still…
After thinking for a moment, I suddenly realized something.
Maybe it was better if I dressed like a regular employee.
Expensive branded clothes would only attract attention.
I could wear those on other occasions—but definitely not tomorrow.
So instead of entering the fancy boutique, I headed to a small market stall nearby.
This time I carefully avoided the terrifying vendor who had sold me yesterday's disastrous outfit.
Instead, I found a young girl with bright eyes and a quick tongue.
Young girls clearly had better taste than those older vendors who only knew how to shout prices.
After fifteen minutes of browsing, I managed to pick out three decent outfits.
At least they looked far better than the oversized nightmare from my first day.
Then again, maybe my natural good looks helped.
Even those cheap clothes somehow looked acceptable on me.
The shop girl stared at me with obvious admiration while I tried them on.
I decided to be generous and didn't bother taking the change when I paid.
Sure, I had suffered a humiliating defeat at lunch earlier that day.
But a true gentleman never loses his style overnight.
***
When I returned home, my mother examined the clothes I had bought.
She studied them carefully before making her judgment.
"Why do these look… ugly?"
I had to admire her sharp eyes.
After only a few seconds of inspection, she had already discovered that the shirts weren't expensive brands.
"They're market clothes," I said calmly. "Wearing expensive brands to the office doesn't really fit."
Her eyes lit up with overwhelming happiness.
Apparently she had never imagined that her irresponsible, money-spending son would suddenly become… responsible.
Seeing her expression, I wisely decided not to add the next sentence that was on the tip of my tongue.
Besides, that company feels like a market anyway.
***
The next morning, I woke up early again.
Learning from yesterday's disaster, I calmly enjoyed breakfast and coffee before leaving for work.
Our housemaid was pushing a small motorcycle out of the gate when I walked outside.
She was probably planning to run errands.
I stopped her.
"Ate Rosa, let me borrow that bike for a few days."
She looked confused.
"But your motorcycle is already repaired. Why use this one?"
I shrugged.
"It's smaller. Easier to move through traffic during rush hour."
She stared at me suspiciously, but eventually left the bike near the gate.
"Fine, you can use it," she said. "But how am I supposed to go out?"
I pointed toward my large scooter.
"Take that one."
Her eyes widened.
"Are you serious? I can't even climb onto that thing!"
I ignored her protests, started the small bike, and rode off.
"Use the ladder behind the house!" I shouted over my shoulder.
***
One of my many virtues in life is this:
I never leave debts unpaid.
Yesterday's lunch incident with Camille felt like a huge debt in my mind.
So I decided to repay it immediately.
Today at lunch.
***
People are strange.
They love judging others by appearances.
Yesterday I had walked into the office wearing that ridiculous oversized outfit, hair messy, no gel—everyone had laughed.
But today, even though my clothes were still cheap market clothes, the looks people gave me were completely different.
Especially the girls.
Honestly, the world was full of shallow people.
I ignored them and pushed open the office door.
Camille glanced up at me briefly… then lowered her head again.
Angela, however, looked genuinely surprised for a moment.
I frowned slightly.
That girl Camille really needed stronger glasses.
The one thing I hated most in this world was when someone saw how handsome I was… and failed to show proper admiration.
And that small irritation was only the beginning of a very strange morning.
Because a few minutes later, while I was sitting at my desk trying to look busy, I suddenly realized something.
Both Angela and Camille were quietly observing me from time to time.
As if they were trying to figure out something.
And for the first time since I started this ridiculous job…
I had the uncomfortable feeling that someone in this office might be starting to see through me.