It was raining a bit outside—not much, just enough to leave streaks on the windows. Inside, the neon lights buzzed quietly, casting that weird, pale glow over the plastic tables. Some of them were still kinda greasy from earlier. The whole place felt still. Some slow R&B was playing from the speakers above, mixing with the soft hum of the floor cleaner doing lazy laps like it didn't really care.
There's a young guy behind the counter, cleaning up. He's twenty-one. His name's Andi.
He's wearing a red apron with sauce stains around the edges, beat-up shoes that probably stopped being comfy a long time ago, and a cheap digital watch with a cracked screen. He's decent at it, wiping down the tables one by one—but yeah, he looks tired.
Andi's been working at the restaurant since he was 18, right after high school. College was never really an option. Not because he wasn't smart—his exam scores were above average, and one of his teachers even encouraged him to go into Civil Engineering. But life had other plans. His dad had a stroke just two months after graduation, and whatever savings the family had went straight into hospital bills and therapy.
His mom quit her job at a small shop to take care of his dad full-time. Andi's little brother, Dani, was only in ninth grade back then. So yeah, Andi basically had to step up and take care of everything.
Since then, he's been grinding nonstop.
He started out helping at a local warung, then watched over a parking lot for a while. Eventually, a friend told him about this fast food gig. The pay's fixed, you get a slip, there's insurance, and if you're good, they give you a bonus every six months. Not bad. At least it covers the rent, Dani's school stuff, and snacks here and there.
Just because it's enough to get by doesn't mean it's comfortable.
Where we live is pretty cramped. Two small bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, and a living room that doubles as a bed whenever someone visits—or when my dad's health takes a turn. Sometimes the water cuts out. The fan sounds like it's falling apart. Wi-Fi? I borrow the neighbor's, we've got some kind of deal with the password.
Tonight's just like any other night. Andi's been on his feet since three in the afternoon.
This job's had me doing a bit of everything—working the register, hauling frozen chicken out of the freezer, frying potatoes, scrubbing dishes, mopping the bathroom, and now... wiping tables.
It was 9:53 p.m.
Still about an hour and a half left on his shift.
Rani, the shift lead that night, called out, "Andi, are tables four and six good?"
"Four's done. Six still has someone," Andi said, nodding toward the corner.
Table six was taken by a guy in a black jacket, maybe around thirty. A laptop lit up his face as he typed away, glancing at his phone every now and then. He looked focused—like he was waiting for something big to happen.
Andi glanced at the guy for a second. It wasn't his look that caught Andi's attention—it was something on his phone screen. A bunch of red and green charts were flashing, jumping up and down like a heartbeat. At the top, it said: KuDexPro – Altcoin Tracker.
Andi didn't recognize the name. But the charts looked familiar. He'd seen stuff like that in YouTube ads or while scrolling through IG Explore—crypto, bitcoin, altcoins, instant cash, new coins up 300%.
He usually just scrolls past it. Too technical. Too far from his day-to-day life, where everything's counted in thousands of rupiah.
But tonight, for some reason, the word "altcoin" kept bouncing around in his head. He wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was the way the guy looked—so locked in. Maybe it was the way the chart moved, like it was alive. Or maybe... he was just tired, and his brain needed a break from reality for a bit.
After the last customer walked out and the place was winding down, Andi took a seat on the bench near the back door. His phone was at 12%, the battery icon glowing red. But he still had internet access.
He opened Google and typed in
"Altcoins are..."
The first article popped up.
Altcoins are all cryptocurrencies other than Bitcoin. You can use them for transactions, investments, or to support blockchain-based projects.
Andi squinted at the screen, already annoyed.
"Blockchain? Project? Investment? What the hell..."
He kept scrolling.
Most of the articles were full of techy buzzwords—decentralized, DeFi, mining, staking.
Too much jargon.
He kinda got the idea, though. Altcoins could go up and down fast, and if you knew how to play the game, there was serious money to be made.
Andi put his phone away. He didn't want to stay up too late—he had another shift tomorrow.
At home, the lights were already off. His mom was asleep in the rattan chair, still wearing her nightgown, a thin blanket draped over her. Dani was out cold on the floor, a textbook hugged to his chest. The rain was still falling outside—heavier now, steady and constant.
Andi set his bag down in the corner of the room. He grabbed his old laptop and sat cross-legged on the floor. The screen was cracked in one corner. The battery was useless without the charger.
Still, it could handle opening text files and some light browsing—so it wasn't completely dead yet.
He opened a folder labeled "Targets" and clicked on a file called Life Notes.txt.
The contents were simple—just a list of things he wanted to do someday, whenever that might be.
Save up for an architecture diploma (goal: 7 million)
Get a decent laptop (probably around 4 million)
Thinking about starting a side hustle… not sure what yet.
Hey, maybe look into crypto? I wrote about it tonight.
Andi added a new line at the bottom:
"Maybe life won't change overnight. But if I can just understand one new thing… maybe the road starts to open, little by little."
He saved the file, then opened a new browser tab and typed something like:
"How to start learning crypto for beginners."
That night, he didn't fall asleep right away. His eyes stayed open, staring at the ceiling.
His mind was still spinning—trying to make sense of things he didn't fully understand.
But for the first time in a while, he felt something shift.
His thoughts were moving again.
Something had grabbed his attention.
It was a world he didn't recognize… but somehow, it didn't feel impossible.
Maybe not yet. But don't give up.
It won't be easy—it never is. But it's about showing up, staying consistent, and giving it time.
Because if he never takes the shot, that curiosity will keep eating at him.
And he'll stay right here—surrounded by plastic tables and sauce-stained aprons, stuck in a life that'll never be enough to truly break free.
All great journeys start with a small curiosity.