At the Table by the Window
At the table near the window, Riri, Marlon, and Mr. Herman were enjoying their breakfast. Riri set her spoon down and gazed out the window toward the market they had just passed. The vendors were chatting with one another, some smiling widely while serving customers. There were no loud shouts of competition, no arguments—everything seemed calm.
"Sir, why does the market look so peaceful?" Riri asked suddenly. "Even though there's competition, right? But everything seems just... normal."
Mr. Herman gave a small smile and sipped his coffee before replying, "What you're seeing is just the surface, dear."
Marlon turned, intrigued. "What do you mean, sir?"
Mr. Herman put down his cup and looked at them with the eyes of someone who had seen a lot in life.
"You know how an iceberg works, right? What's visible above the water is just a small part of the whole. The largest portion is hidden beneath the surface. Life is like that too—especially business competition."
Riri furrowed her brows. "So you mean, there are things going on behind the scenes at that market we just saw?"
Mr. Herman nodded slowly. "Exactly. What you saw was just surface-level interaction—transactions that are visible to the eye. But behind the scenes, there are strategies, tactics, efforts to survive. Some compete honestly, but others play dirty. Some survive through quality, others by taking down their rivals. Business is like war—it doesn't always use weapons."
Marlon rested his chin on his hand, thoughtful. "But if that's the case, why do they still look so peaceful?"
Mr. Herman gave a half-smile. "Because they have to look peaceful. No one wants to buy from someone who seems hostile or vengeful. They need to smile, appear friendly, to keep customers coming. That too is part of the strategy."
Riri was pensive. "So we can't just trust what we see, can we?"
Mr. Herman nodded again. "People tend to believe what they see, but forget that our eyes only capture the surface. That's why so many are deceived. Like a mirage in the desert, like a reflection in the mirror—this world is full of things that seem simple, but are actually complex."
Marlon gave a faint smile. "So, the world is grey, huh, Sir?"
Mr. Herman chuckled. "More than that, kid. The world is like a mirror—it can reflect anything. Sometimes you see goodness, sometimes you see ugliness. It all depends on the angle you're looking from."
Riri and Marlon glanced at each other. This morning's conversation may have seemed simple, but it widened their perspectives. What began as just breakfast now also became food for thought.
False Peace
The morning mist still lingered as their conversation shifted from merely discussing the market to something broader. In that modest eatery, the aroma of fried rice blended with the rich scent of black coffee steaming from the cups on the wooden table. The light chatter of other customers formed a calming backdrop.
Marlon put down his spoon and sighed. "Another illusion of peace," he murmured, looking out the window.
Romo raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Marlon turned, his hand moving across the table as if searching for the right words. "Like this country. Forced to appear peaceful for the sake of a good image, while underneath it's like smoldering fire—ready to explode any time. The government talks about stability, prosperity, tolerance. But the reality?" He leaned back in his chair, eyes on the ceiling. "People aren't children anymore. They know about the rot that's being hidden."
Mr. Herman gave a small smile while sipping his coffee. "You kids sure talk about heavy stuff early in the morning," he said casually.
Riri chimed in. "But it's true, Sir. Everyone talks about religious tolerance now, but still—the majority always gets easier access to worship. Minorities? It's incredibly difficult. Just to build a place of worship can take years because of unclear regulations."
Romo slowly set his spoon down. "That's because what we see is the front stage."
Marlon glanced at him. "Front stage?"
Romo nodded. "Governments, media, even us as society—we all have a front stage and a backstage. The front stage is what's shown to the public—peace, tolerance, unity. But the backstage? It's full of conflicting interests, inequality, injustice. And the more people believe in the front stage, the harder it is to uncover what's going on behind it."
Mr. Herman calmly put down his cup. "But without the front stage, people might lose hope."
Riri frowned. "What do you mean?"
Mr. Herman let out a long breath. "If all the wounds were laid bare, if every injustice was announced without offering solutions, people could fall into despair. That illusion of peace isn't just for those in power—it's also to help society hold on to hope."
Marlon smirked. "So… is it better we keep being deceived?"
Mr. Herman chuckled. "Not quite, kid. But reality has to be faced with balance. If all we do is curse the system without understanding it, we'll just become noise lost in the crowd."
Marlon fell silent, staring at his cup of coffee. The morning, which had felt light just moments ago, now carried a little more weight, as their conversation drifted far beyond the table.
Discussion in the Urban Forest
After finishing breakfast, Mr. Herman leaned back in his chair, smiling at the three young people in front of him. "You kids talk about such heavy stuff first thing in the morning. Your heads will overheat at this rate."
Marlon grinned. "Well, the world's already complicated, Sir."
Mr. Herman laughed quietly, then stood up while stretching. "That's why, before it gets hotter, let's hang out somewhere that can cool your heads."
Riri looked at him suspiciously. "Where do you mean?"
Mr. Herman grabbed his motorcycle keys and walked out. "The urban forest. A cool place—clear heads, calm hearts. You've been talking about how grey the world is, so let's visit a place that's neither black nor white, but green."
Without much protest, they followed his suggestion.
As soon as they arrived at the urban forest, the fresh air welcomed them. Tall trees stood majestically, their leaves whispering gently in the breeze. A stone path led to wooden benches spread neatly around the area. Birds chirped above as branches rustled softly. Compared to the city's bustle, this place felt like another world.