Travel Lights

Sebuah kisah petualangan seorang gadis yang ingin mencari tahu jawaban dari pertayaan besar yang ia pendam bertahun-tahun. Nama lengkapnya Elzora Giandra Oktaviani. Jika rumah adalah surga bagi kebanyakan orang tapi tidak baginya. Ialah mahasiswi semester akhir seorang aktivis dalam organisasi seni. Hidupnya seakan hanya untuk mencintai dunia seni dan travel writer. Darah itu pula yang membawanya berpetualang mencari sosok pelukis "Art Style". Jiwa yang kalut dibawa lari untuk sekedar mengistirahatkan hati dan pikiran. Keras hatinya dalam menerima cinta tercipta sebab sempat kecewa oleh laki-laki yang sering disebutnya sebagai fakboy. Mengubah sosok yang semula hangat menjadi gadis dingin. Pada setiap perjalanannya Elzora dipertemukan oleh banyak hal baru. Takdirpun mempertemukannya dengan laki-laki bernama Morgan dan Fikri, tokoh perwakilan 2 laki-laki yang selama ini berputar dan terpenjara dalam hati dan pikiran penulis. Pada setiap perjalanan Elzora dipertemukan dengan banyak hal tak terduga. Dimulai dari persinggahannya di Surabaya. Dipertemukan dengan Fikri. Berbagai hal manis terjadi. Mulai dari menikmati senja bersama-sama. Dipertemukan dan diselamatkan dalam musibah. Memiliki tujuan perjalanan yang sama, bahkan tidur dalam satu kamar hotel yang sama di Bali. Sama-sama menyukai seni dan meresa sudah satu frekuensi. Namun, pertemuan berujung perpisahan. Di Bali Fikri terpaksa meninggalkan Elzora sebab tuntutan pekerjaan. Setelah membaca sebuah media online dan mendapat info bahwa Bang Danu sudah di Yogyakarta. Dengan uang seadanya Elzora terbang menuju Kota Gudeg. Diperjalanan ia dipertemukan dengan seorang pemuda tampan, rapi, dan ramah. Sesampainya di Yogya, musibah kecopetan menimpanya. Hingga datanglah Morgan, laki-laki yang bertemu dengannya di pesawat. Seorang pengusaha muda tampan yang mengajaknya pulang ke rumah neneknya untuk menginap beberapa hari. Banyak hal yang diceritaknnya. Perlakuan dan perkataan Morgan membuat Elzora nyaman. 5 Tahun kemudian Elzora menempuh pendidikan ke luar negeri dan dipertemukan kembali dengan Fikri.

When I drink the amber-colored poisonous wine, I can hear the joyful melody of a toast song coming from the manor. The wedding between Emanuela Romano and my ex-fiance, Benedetto Martini, is being held there right now. The elderly butler, Vincenzo Romano, puts away the wine glass with a blank expression. The way he speaks is as somber as one sounds when they give a speech at a funeral. "You know the Don's will very well, Ms. Andreotti. Five years are officially up, yet neither Mr. Andreotti, Mr. Martini, nor Dr. Foscari is willing to pledge their loyalty to you via the blood vow. According to the rules, you must take your own life within seven days. "The Don had left the Ashwine to you as a means of protecting… what little pride you have." Scorching pain begins spreading from my throat. I just smile at Vincenzo in return. Pride? Does a bastard spawn of a loose Iernian woman deserve to retain pride of any sort in the cruel Andreotti family? I begin making my way toward the banquet hall, which is brightly lit. As I walk past the shimmering waters of the pond in the family garden, I can tell that the waters are insanely cold. Then again, nothing is as cold as my icy heart right now. After taking a deep breath, I fall face-first into the pond… only to feel an iron-clad grip wrenching me backward. As such, I collapse onto the lawn heavily. My older brother, Alessandro Andreotti, has bits of grass covering his expensive suit. Disgust is written all over his handsome face. "Eva!" he grits out through his teeth, his voice lowered. "Must you spoil the mood on Emanuela's big day?" He then scoots closer to me, his alcohol-tinged breath fanning over my face. "You want to die, huh? Go ahead and do that, but can you die somewhere further? Don't stain the Andreotti land!" Alessandro turns to walk in the direction of the radiant lights, leaving me on the lawn, completely covered in mud. I can feel the countdown of my lifespan burning my insides. Seven days… I only have seven days to live. Meanwhile, my very own brother wants me to die somewhere further away.

"Sir, the system doesn't have any data on your marriage records with Ms. Lydia Payne." I can feel my knees starting to go weak beneath me as I clutch the gastroscopy report. Five years ago, Lydia was recruited by a top-tier law firm all the way in Starbrough. I made the ultimate decision to travel thousands of miles across the sea with her to start a new life there. She had told me, "Once I've garnered enough wealth and a solid reputation, I'll help you apply for a PR card right away." But it has been five years, and yet my Permanent Resident Card is still in the process of being approved. On the other hand, Lydia's assistant, Philip Wilder, who has traveled to Starbrough with us, has already received his own PR card thanks to Lydia vouching for him. When I received news back then, I wanted to break up with Lydia and fly back to Luxoria. Lydia, who had always prided herself on being cool and calm at all times, panicked for the very first time. She gripped my hand as she said, "It's difficult for Philip to hold down a career in another country, so I view it as my responsibility to help him out. "You're my husband, Nathaniel. You'll have your own PR card sooner or later. My job is a sensitive one, you see, so I need to avoid showing favoritism to you. Please be more understanding toward me." Well, I've been understanding toward Lydia for five whole years. My phone suddenly rings. When I answer the call, I can practically hear the smile dripping off Lydia's tone. "Phillip has successfully passed his citizenship exam! We're celebrating the occasion tonight. Hurry up and come home so that you can get dinner started." I feel my heart going stone-cold as I stare at the marriage certificate in my hand. Well, it's more like a piece of useless paper now. It turns out that I'm not Lydia's legal husband at all. I don't have an identity here, which means I can't receive any benefits. Heck, I can't even get started on the medical insurance that's needed for my follow-up treatments. After ending the call, I book an appointment for a keyhole surgery. Then, I book a ticket on the quickest flight back to Luxoria. This time, I won't go back to Lydia ever again.

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."