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- Everywhere is filled with the rackety, bustling sounds of students walking around, save for a few unused public spaces.
The assembly halls was supposed to be locked at this hour, or any period generally, but law enforcement occasionally missed their duties either way.
The duo stepped into the one with black-tinted glass doors and walls, merging awkwardly with the wooden panels as it mirrored in the same grid-like design. Behind it, the white painted, finely sanded concrete walls holding everything together, lending the space an odd precision in every corner. Nobody in Kudrat has a clue who allowed it nor why are these design was an admissible choice.
It was silent, echoing even the most minute of noises, and absolutely the wrong place to be doing whatever this was… just the way Megat liked it and he never cared about wrong places much when it's comes to his mischief.
Reza is already regretting each step the moment he let Megat pulled him here, and it doubles down when the lights are flicked on.
"Kau nak buat apa ni?" Anxious and whispering, Reza's agitation is raising by the second.
"Sini Ja" Megat whispered, quite pointlessly, the hall still echoes like the inside of a cup, while dragging Reza by the wrist. "Ada something untuk kau"
Reza, still jittery, sighing.
“Ni, kalau pasal kau sumbat rokok kau kat belakang screen lagi, ken-"
"No-lah, chill je bro, relax"
Nearing the platform, Megat freed Reza's hand, excitement carrying him forward. Ignoring the available stairs all together, he hopped onto the stage like he owned it.
Time has never been anyone's companion, and standing around is not one of Reza's favourite pastime. His eyes darted around until he found a stack of chairs.
He then hurried over, tugging one free, dragging it to the center and facing it towards Megat, who was still on the stage looking around for something.
He gave the seat a few hard pats to knock off the dust before dropping into it, wiped his hands together to rid of any excess filth.
Finally after searching for a minute, Megat spotted the microphone on the podium's drawer slot.
Grinning, he grabbed it and flicked it on. The little dot glowed and his grin spreads wider. A couple of taps for testing, then a quick mic check.
"Cubaan satu, cubaan dua, cubaan tiga."
Reza's brows shot up, he almost jumped from the seat.
"Woi! Cikgu mari nanti!"
His voice hovered just beneath a scream, quivering yet contained.
Megat hardly gives a damn, he continue regardless, then clearing his throat afterwards.
"Alright Ja, dengar, ni special untuk kau, edisi khas, no charges, jangan terharu sampai nangis tau"
"Gapo hal pulok aku nok nang-"
"Shhhhhh bro, shhh"
He took out an MP3, pressing the top button, a tune started to play as he placed it down on the ground.
Megat adjusted his shirt, smoothing out every wrinkle before tucking it in neatly.
He tightened his necktie with careful precision, easy as everyday task. From his trouser pocket, he pulled a pair of glasses and positioned them on his nose, letting the light shine through the lenses.
Instantly his posture altered - shoulders dorsal, spine straight, chest elevated - the image of a model student as sturdy as a ruler.
A teensy smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The sharp arch of his brows relaxed, softening his expression.
Reza's mouth opened just a fraction, the ability to communicate had abandoned him, his face a portrait of confusion. Especially witnessing the absurdity displayed in front of him.
And what does Megat mean by Edisi Khas? Is there an 'edisi biasa' now?
And then, Megat starts, bringing the microphone close to his face, as he sang.
"The way you write
Oh, my God, your hand writing-"
Hold on...
Reza recognised this song.
His posture straightened immediately.
"Mobeomsaeng Oppa, Oneul Kkeunnago Mwohana"
With a slightly dramatic flair, he tugged at his hair, which looked more funny than anything, considering how Megat always cut it super short. He lowered his gaze in a faux-shy flourish, the kind that was so hilariously fake it circled back around to being almost charming.
Almost-
The tone mostly matches the original, even if Megat’s voice lacks the softness of the original singer
Still, Reza is livid, and still exorbitantly confused.
"Naneun Pyeonjiji, Hana Sareo Wanneu-"
"CHOP-CHOP-STOP!"
Megat threw a glare at his sole audience, clicking his teeth.
"Tak habih lagi la!"
The instrumental still lingered in the background even after Megat was abruptly interrupted.
"Apasal Shah nak nyanyi-nyanyi ni? Buang tebiat?"
Reza pushed himself up from the chair, lifting a mocking teethy grin.
Megat perched his hands on his waist. "Valentine day nak dekat lah, so dengar je lah, tak romantik langsung tok kelate ni." Smirking to himself in that position.
"Banyaklah kau valentine, tu dah tiga bulan lepas! Mung ingat aku ni Bechik ko nok digulo-gulokan!"
Reza's tone raised sharper, an absurd expression with a curved smile.
"Shh-shh, dengar ni-dengar ni"
The instrumental reached the chorus and then Megat whips out the special edition he mentioned earlier.
"Lirikan aga, mengenggam pena"
His hand on his face, a slight fainting gesture.
"Iler mu gundam, surih dan baca"
Then his finger folded into a pinch.
"'Tas dada, bak catatan"
He placed a hand on his own chest.
Reza was stunned, the seat was left forsaken, as if his foot was glued on the spot.
"Pernah lambat to English class berduaan"
His index and middle does a walking motion.
"Nota penuh salah,
Hanya agenda"
He mimed closing a book softly, hands clasping together.
"Meraba segala"
He tapped his hip
"Bak kitab kau suka"
Then his collarbone.
Then lower -
Reza was on the verge of combustion. He barely grasp the entire meaning of the lyrics interpretation. Translating a Korean song into Malay was hard enough, so why does Megat insist on bringing up the times he performed his prefect duty in the lyrics here?? Even if it was poorly arranged.
His steps to the stage were quick as he lunged, aiming for the mic from Megat,as the sound bounced off the high hall walls, echoing with every step.
"The way you read-"
Megat's long legs and stried carried him in wide circles, the thump of their footsteps reverberating across the stage, treating the whole pursue like a private cat and mouse tease, that broad smile, beaming amusement tagging along. Reza chased after him, red-faced, his shouts swallowed and thrown back by the empty hall.
"Stop-bukan macam tu buat metafora!"
That's what offended Reza the most.
"Ini artistic interpretation! - Oh my god your paper cuts!"
He tapped two fingers to his chest, right over his heart, then pointed at Reza.
Reza's ears burned crimson.
"Toksoh tuding kat aku!"
Only one of his fingers was bandaged from yesterday’s library duty, but the echoing proclamation made it sound like it's some kind of catastrophe. He clenched his fists, silently seething, yet still sprinting after Megat across the echoing hall.
Chased or not, Megat sang on, unbothered by the pursuit behind him, each note becomes increasingly ardent. Every now and then he tossed in pure gibberish, just to be extra annoying.
"Apa benda kau nyanyi sengal?!"
The chase finally came to a stop, with Reza gasping for breath, bent over, one hand on his knee, the other pinching the bridge of his nose all together.
A chain of laughter rang out of Megat, finding his partner flustered condition as hysterical.
"So.."
Reza still finding his breath
"Kau suruh aku ikut kau sini, sebab nak tunjuk skill tukar lagu ke melayu?"
"Ehh..."
Megat straightened.
"Not exactly... buat suka-suka"
Rubbing the back of his neck with a quirk of a smile, his eyes wandered, a common reaction when a topic got the better of him.
Reza gaze rest of Megat, soft smile painting his condition.
"Tak paham aku kau ni"
"So....you like it?"
His grin spreads, mischievous as a Cheshire cat.
"It's okay..." Reza huffed, shaking his head "tapi macam banyak singakatan"
"Cane nak buat" Megat chuckled "perkataan melayu jarang ada satu suku kata"
Reza let gravity attain him, settling onto the stage with both hands resting on his raised knees.
The instrumental still playing along while Megat lolloped to sit beside Reza, the microphone toppled gently as he set it aside, with legs reclining in a casual sprawl.
Reza stayed put, outwardly collected, pretending not to notice.
Yet his eyes flickered involuntarily as Megat leaned in uncomfortably close - infuriatingly closer.
Their gaze locked, face to face, and Reza couldn’t even bring himself to swallow, his throat tight with panic.
“So…” Megat gave a faint tilt of his head, studying Reza.
His voice dipped, sly in wickedness—
“Nak practice the part yang kau baca aku?"
Reza choked.
“BAH—*COUGH*APO—TAK!!”
His cough was intense enough to overwhelm him, shaking his head was useless to loosen himself. Megat can really pin points his nerves.
Sure, one of their favorite intimate pastime takes place in the Kudrat library, and while Reza might have admitted he liked seeing Megat in glasses, is that truly something that needs to be sung - or even demonstrated?
His thoughts in the present scrambled a cocktail of jigsaw pieces that made nothing click.
Both of Megat's hand rested over Reza's, holding them in place. Reza is caught halfway, leaving him nowhere to haul.
Megat laughed.
"Macam setuju."
A smirked grew in unison as Megat’s eyes fluttered shut and edged nearer, distance were nil.
Before Reza could pass out on the spot, Encik Fadhli voice rang out from the front doors.
The glass doors slammed with a sharp 'wham' , loud enough to rebound but sturdy enough to stay intact.
"APA NYANYI-NYANYI NI!!? SIAPA SURUH BUAT KONSERT!"
Without hesitation, Megat and Reza immediately bolted through the back door, their footsteps perfectly in sync, at times stumbling over nothing but keeping their balance, leaving the hall behind them in a mess of echoes and footsteps.
"Lari macam berok" Encik Fadhli murmured to himself.
He limped towards the exit they had escaped through as his legs no longer worked like they used to, braced himself against the door frame, and barked out the command.
"PERGI MANDI! SOLAT ASAR!!!!"
They were already a few meters away, but Encik Fadhli’s uproar was still ringing behind them.
Megat cared for none of it, his stride sweeping him forward as gale, laughter trailing behind him in vivid echoes that bounced from hallway to hallway.
Reza hissed as their steps slackened the further they are from the hall. His stomach cramped from running so fast. A low groan escaped him as his fingers traced over it, offering a stopgap attempt to ease the ache.
"Habis lah aku, mati aku."
Millions of different events starts infringing on his mind, -If Encik Fadhli called him to the office, the scolding would be merciless.
If the scolding happened, the others would know.
If they knew, Mr Rao would roll his eyes.
If Mr Rao rolled his eyes, he might end up with a mark on his record...
All because his brain had predicted it, insignificant moments that somehow felt loud enough to make his worries spirals downward.
Megat's arm curled around him, a quotidian ritual, leaning in, whispering within the proximity of Reza's hearing.
“Relax Ja, aku join nanti, we share everything, right? I'll hold your hand too along the way”
Reza shot Megat a harsh glare but his ears are still red.
“…Senyaplah."
He still didn't push Megat hand away.
"Benci betul aku tengok muka kau"
Megat threw his head back, his soft laughter carrying a hint of smirk.
"Sejak bila?"
A sudden realisation arose out of Reza, stopping them in their tracks.
"Eh, MP3 kau tak ambik?"
Megat froze, a tiny gasp escaping his lips.
Despite the apprehension scalding beneath Reza's calm exterior, he was never called to the office. The matter seemed to fade as the day wore on, just forgotten, perhaps like so many things teachers misplaced in their minds.
The night however had a different tale.
Knowing his MP3 had ended up in the teacher’s office. Megat went barefoot, following the corridor’s length, the cool concrete floor repressing the resonance of his steps.
He sneaked inside, certain of what he had come for.
The office was engulfed in darkness, but Megat didn’t hesitate. He clicked on a tiny flashlight and slid open the drawer, knowing exactly where his MP3 had been hidden.
While grinning to himself, he stashed it in his pants, closes the drawer and tiptoed quickly back to his dorm room.
Encik Fadhli probably would not have minded and would not have noticed, with so many confiscated items in his stash anyway.
Later the next weekend...
Late night study sessions...
They took the vacant bed by the wall in Megat’s dorm room, positioned to catch the slightest sound of the wardens footsteps, ready to flick off the lights if needed.
Against the cold wall, Megat rested still, comforting chill seeps through his skin, pencil in hand, papers and notes lay strewn across the mattress, the silence of the night punctuated only by the occasional shuffle. Reza’s glasses reflected the faint light as he was bent, scribbling his homework. That mellow glow of the study lamp was their only beacon in the enveloping darkness. cocooning the world to just the two of them, as the others were fast asleep.
With a single section remaining in his homework, Reza lifted his gaze, peering over Megat who was carefully lining his work with a ruler.
"Shah..."
"...Hmm?"
"Aku nak tanya..."
"Sure" Megat finished his notes with a few careless strokes and added margin, laid the pencil to rest, closing the workbook, and inclined himself toward Reza, a faint lint of unreadable smile veiling his lips.
"Kau nak cari nilai x in the quadratic that will predict our stress level in the future exams, kira halaju bola ping-pong melantun atas meja makmal physics macam project last month, ataupun..."
He eased Reza’s glasses from his face, almost savouring the moment before holding them between his fingers a minute longer than necessary, spinning them idly as his eyes stayed fixed on him.
Reza didn't splinter away from the proclivity, he never does.
"Kau nak tanya, kenapa Portugis jajah Melaka guna hukum thermodynamics?"
A robust silence looms over them, Reza blinked once, he went dumb for a whole three seconds, before catching the sarcasm lacing the other's words. He smiled, amused as he rubbed his eyes from nearing sleepiness and let out a relaxed chuckle.
Megat snickered, very much pleased. Reza’s reaction had landed exactly as intended.
After a moment, Reza spins back to his first enquiry.
"Aku nak tanya... Apasal kau tukar lirik lagu Korea tu ke Melayu? Yang hari tu tak habis pun"
A dulcet laugh loosened Megat stiff nerves. One knee came up to his chest, an arm settling across it as he leaned back.
"Memang tak habis pun, lupa dah... Ja nak aku habiskan ke?"
"Doklah" He kinda does...
Reza grazes over his neck. "Sot aku weh, payoh nak agok mung nih"
In the room’s dimness, Megat stifled a small laugh, his shoulder trembling slightly. Reza’s head tilted ever so slightly, bewilderment lambent across his features.
"Aku dah agak, Ja suka benda macam tu"
"Hah?"
Reza's eyes widen in response, leaning in to better comprehend Megat's answer.
The delight in Megat’s expression waned.
"Entah Kenapa"
Tender smile emerged.
"Dengar-dengar, lama-lama lagu tu, aku terbayang kau... "
"?..." A crease formed between Reza's eyebrows.
Megat lingered on Reza with that same softened gaze, his eyes warmed by the honey muted light, bearing a weight that spoke of care and sorrow alike. pity intertwining through his glance in a way that is reverent to those who spoke his mannerisms, like Reza does.
"Jenis yang makan hati berulam jantung"
Reza holds his silence, he couldn’t find his usual riposte... Stunned in a way that is unfamiliar even to himself.
He couldn’t abide it, the tranquil tenebrous atmosphere demanding intrusion, breath binding itself from his lungs, posture rigid, trapping him. The pencil that is loosely cradled on his palm felt strange, almost foreign...
He dislikes the idea of being read, of having his layers peeled back like some open book...
Perhaps it was for others sake, perhaps his own, or the fact that others are currently slumbering, but the idea of revealing himself in full, the truth of his exhaustion and longing, made him recoil.
A sad sap of a youth, a melancholic soul, eclipsing himself from the sight of what he truly is. And so he lived between what was seen and what was hidden, half in pretense, all the while longing for a clarity he could not face.
Suddenly, he noticed it. He was drifting again, in his mind, he shook it off and made himself return to the moment.
Right, the song.
To him, that song is nothing but a chain of suggestive metaphors about a girl aching for a stranger she brushed past in a bookstore, swept away by emotions she cannot restrain, then letting her desire unravel her composure.
But what connection does Megat see to Reza? How does any of that circle back to Reza? Is Megat really that shallow in his reading, or is he hinting that he’s the girl in the narrative?? Is he the girl?
The thought unsettles him, Reza wants to dig deeper, peel back the layers he keeps vague.
"Jap" His throat cracked as he swallowed. "Maksud Mung?"
Megat gave Reza a warm smile.
"Poetry, lirik bahasa lain diterjemahkan, I was respecting your interest and language bro" His tone turned tender "And kita suka the idea and the composition of it all, no?"
Interest... Reza does love those... Megat even went the trouble to adjust the lyrics to suit his position, if the point of it all is to stir something within him, it succeeded.
Is it as simple as that?...
Reza nodded in motion, warmth filling his chest, every nerves comforted.
"Eh jap"
He reeled back.
"Aku masih tak faham...ada lagi ke lepas tu? Edisi Khas?"
Megat's smile grew wider, this is awfully entertaining for him.
"Kalau lama sikit hari tu, and Ja tak naik stage, mungkin kau dapat sikit lap dance"
?????
"...Gapo lap dance tuh?.." Is that a type of skills? Lap = Peha? Dance = Tarian? Tarian Peha? Reza's voice stumbled into confusion, furrowed brows deepening in the moment.
Sustaining his laugh even further, Megat only gave a response by the shake of his head as he starts cleaning up the scattered formulas. Leaving Reza in a deeper world of perplexity.
A month afterwards, while they were lounging and watching a funny VHS movie titled The Full Monty, smuggled into their dorms- with their classmates in the TV room, both of them preoccupied with the kuih and drinks on the table, there it was, Reza suddenly learned in an instant what a lap dance was, new knowledge registered from a movie.
Megat of course, of course, found it impossible to stay silent, much to Reza's dismay. He abode on every opportunity to bring it up, letting a sly grin accentuate whenever Reza is still or just merely looking into the distance, clearly savouring the fact that he had caught him sneaking into the computer room one evening, and investigating 'what is a lap dance' in the search bar to satisfy his curiosity.
Nevertheless, Reza couldn't claim that he detests it entirely, because sometimes, these days, he can't help picturing what Megat's alleged lap dance might have been like if he hadn't been so quickly irritated.
Stepping in the bathroom, he shook his head and stared at his sweat-slick reflection, the soaked aftermath of football still clinging to his skin.
He cupped some water from the sink and splashed it onto his face.
Such a bagatelle hardly deserves attention.
Begone unclean imagery! Shoo!
