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'Hey, I'm thinking about cutting my hair,'

'Oh come on, no! They look nice. Do you really wanna go bald?'

'no man, but like I'm planning to get cut them till um...here,'

'No dude they're so pretty you're gonna make me cry. why?'

'Nah I agree, it will look better than that man bun she makes,'

'Man bun?!'

The three chortled, before being snapped quite to hushed whispers by Joseph's sudden voice echoing.

'Lower your voices please,' he spoke softly yet sternly, a finger pressed to his lips. 

He walked through the shelves giving them a long stare as the friends whispered and glanced in his direction to see if he was still watching, muttering apologies. He continued walking ahead rolling the trolley of returned books to the history section, trying to take deep breaths to relieve himself, he was already feeling so cranky today.

His mother's village, where he was raised, had several traditions, such as a woman should be the one choosing a man, or if a son is born, gift the household a meal, if a daughter, gift them, sweets.

Another tradition was the one he dreaded the most; a man should leave the home to live on his own at the age of 15, which had led him here.

In the city in a new college away from his house.

His Paman, Intan, was happy and most eager to assist him for he had left for the city instead of staying in the village as his father had, and was the first one to encourage joseph to settle there.

 Joseph tried multiple times to explain to his family that the times had changed and for a 16-year-old like him it would be difficult for him to survive out there alone. Alas for him, his family still stayed with the tradition, he doubted they even heard half of his convincing.

Although his Paman was eager to get him a "very convenient job a friend told him about" (which was a Pizzaman). However, Joseph hurriedly while politely refused, explaining he could get a job himself as being a 'responsible man'. So as an alternative, Paman Intan had taken him to his house so he could find a job for himself.

And it was the second time he lost himself.

Almost.

He remembered sitting on the flourish dining table with Paman Intan, Tante Fitri, and their two children, Arief who was three years older than him and Regina who was two years younger. They all ate in silence with just the sounds of cutlery clinking on the clear plates.

'Dear are you having difficulty with the fork?' Tante's sudden question caused him to jerk his head up, who stared at him, her face showing a joyful expression but her eyes showed pure mockery. He mustered a smile, looking down at his food, which he was unable to take a single bite off for the spaghetti kept slipping from the tiny silver fork.

'Um..no I actually..haven't eaten this..before...'

'Oh, dear. Come on Arief. Help your brother,' she gestured to his older cousin, who made it clear through his expression that he didn't wish to do so. he cast a glance at Joseph, looking sorry for himself. Joseph bit his tongue.

'No no, it's okay. I'll just..eat,' he quickly mumbled and brushed him off. She let out a loud laugh and continued eating. The long silence started feeling heavier on him.

His family wasn't as sophisticated or rich as Paman Intan and they knew it. Compared to his Paman's house, his house looked like a small cottage. He would occasionally hear a comment made behind his back, soft yet audible but in English, for they assumed he did not know how to speak. But he did.

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