NO SINGING! BECOME AN ACTOR OR DIE

CHAPTER 8: The Sacrifice of Aspiration

Dirga slipped out the door and hurried to the telephone box in the complex, safely out of his Father's sight. The night was cold and windy, causing Dirga, who was wearing pyjamas, to shiver violently. He took out two Rp 100 metal coins and dialled Dina's number.

Dirga turned the rotary dial, his heartbeat echoing with every rotation. The connection went through, and a voice he knew well answered his call.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hello, Dina. It’s me, Dirga.”

“Dirga? What’s wrong?”

“I need a favour. Can you tell Mum I’m filming somewhere else? I have something I need to deal with with Dad. I don’t want Mum to know about this. And please investigate R. A. P. Consult. PT Short-Term & Futures Investment Consultancy. Office Address: Grand Sinta Building, 12th Floor. And tomorrow, around nine or ten, please call the police and tell them there’s a multi-billion rupiah fraud happening there,” Dirga said in one breath, panicked and nervous.

Dina, confused, asked Dirga to slowly explain what was actually happening. Why was he suddenly calling her in the middle of the night in such a panic?

Dirga’s tears fell. He was exhausted by everything. It all spilled out that night.

“My Dad seems to be caught in a scam, but I can’t tell him that. Tomorrow, we’re going to that hotel to meet the person running the fraud. So, please help me stop Dad from being conned,” he finished.

Dina understood, and the phone call ended.

[Bintang Jaya Hotel, 09:00. Rendra’s identity and the time of his operation are revealed. Mission: 70% Detected. Continue Action!]

Dirga walked home, towards the house he hoped would never lose its warmth and simplicity again. His arms wrapped around himself against the cold night, Rendra Anggara’s business card tucked safely in his pocket.

Dirga turned the corner, leaving the cold air behind. His Father was already waiting for him at the door.

“Where have you been, Dirga?”

“Just out front. I forgot I had to call a friend,” Dirga lied. Guilt pressed down on him. Dirga had turned every emotional interaction in the world into his own stage property.

“He needed to give me homework, since I’m not going to school tomorrow.”

“Not going to school?” Mum appeared from inside, her hair slightly damp with dew.

“I forgot to mention it,” Dirga replied, putting on his best innocent face, aided by the chill of the night. “I’m filming tomorrow, Mum. *Silent Harbour*. It was last minute. Mr Ical already told Dina, but I guess Dina hasn’t had a chance to contact you yet.”

“Another last-minute shoot? Don’t do that too often, sweetheart. It’s not good for your study schedule,” Mum complained, moving closer. Her familiar scent calmed Dirga’s frayed nerves.

“Alright then, you go to bed early tonight,” his mother instructed.

Dirga nodded, approaching his Father and whispering the code for tomorrow’s operation: “Dad, don’t forget tomorrow. During the filming break, just tell Mum we’re going fishing at Ancol River, so she doesn’t get suspicious.”

His Father looked into Dirga’s calm eyes. “Yes, Dirga.”

That night, Dirga slept only briefly, preoccupied with his plan:

1. Visit Bintang Jaya Hotel.

2. Sneak inside.

3. Record the secret meeting between Rendra and the victims, then give the recording to Dina as material for the police report.

4. Dina will make an anonymous report to the nearest police station that a fraud scheme is taking place.

5. Done. Dirga returns to filming and safely completes his Quest.

Good idea.

The next morning, Dirga woke up and prepared his best equipment: a small cassette tape recorder that he slipped into his trouser pocket. He put on his neatest shirt, while his Father was already smart in his flannel shirt, holding two small fishing rods—a distraction for Mum so the mission wouldn't be questioned when he disappeared for two or three hours during the filming break.

Dirga, his Father, and his Mother arrived at the *Silent Harbour* filming location. The place turned out to be much quieter in the early morning hours. The studio was dark and empty; only a few crew members were starting to move around.

At the location, Dina was waiting, her eyes half-open with sleepiness. She carried two cups of hot instant coffee, one for herself and one for Dirga’s father.

“Mr Ical just told me that since you arrived early, we’re going to shoot a small scene. This morning, it’s a scene where you sing a short ballad while waiting for the sunrise.”

*Thump.*

Dirga’s face tightened. His body suddenly went rigid; all blood circulation seemed to stop instantly.

Singing. In front of the camera. The System must be setting him up now.

[ACTIVE ACTING QUEST: Deliver an (S) Performance in front of the Director. Level (S+) Singing Skill is not permitted.]

Dina pointed to a corner of the set; there was a small stage made of shabby plywood. A stool and a thin sheet of script lay there.

“The song already has a melody,” Dina said. “It’s simple. Just humming.”

Humming is a tune without lyrics. The song was written by Director Ical about a child missing his Father.

“Ready, Dirga? Just sing while hugging a doll. Eyes expressing longing. That’s all,” Director Ical instructed.

They started filming. Dirga performed his role, immersing himself in the emptiness and longing of Arka, the harbour keeper’s son. He used his inner anger towards the System to create the perfect atmosphere.

Once finished, they announced a break. It was now 8:30 AM. It would only take 30 minutes to reach Bintang Jaya Hotel.

They arrived at an old hotel featuring granite stone accents and a broken fountain in the front yard: Bintang Jaya Hotel.

“Dad, wait in the lobby for a bit, okay? I’m bursting. I need the bathroom quickly.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No!” Dirga quickly refused. He was going to act alone. If Rendra saw his Father, the plan could be completely ruined. His Father was a potential investor, not a nuisance.

Dirga pretended to look for the bathroom. After ensuring his father wasn’t watching, he rushed into the lift. The journey to the 12th floor felt incredibly long. The smell of the old hotel (burnt rubber and chlorine water) filled his nostrils. He had already projected his role: a lost child.

He arrived on the 12th floor. A long, silent corridor, thickly carpeted in red. Dim lighting enveloped the space. Dirga realised the atmosphere was too quiet for a major meeting.

Dirga searched and found a door marked ‘Executive Meeting Room B’. Perhaps the meeting was there. He tried to get closer and listen. His small tape recorder was ready.

As he tried to approach, from behind the door, he heard Jazz music playing from an old cassette tape. There were approaching footsteps. Someone was about to come out.

Dirga panicked and immediately hid behind an architectural pillar in the corridor. This wasn't a huge Ponzi scheme. It was just a casual chat between a major investor and his client.

The door opened.

Rendra stepped out, followed by a man who was extremely familiar. This man wore a wool blazer that was trendy for the 90s, his expression relaxed, smiling at Rendra.

It was Mr Erizon, the legendary Music Producer.

Dirga’s hands were sweating. Why was Mr Erizon here? Was he also one of Rendra’s victims? He remembered that in the future, Mr Erizon would go bankrupt. Was it because of this issue?

They stopped right near Dirga’s hiding spot. Dirga pressed the tape recorder inside his jacket pocket, gathering all his strength.

“Mate, listen to me. This scheme is crazy. If I become an investor, I’ll have to shell out a ridiculous amount of money,” Mr Erizon said, glancing at his watch.

“It’s a project, isn’t it? It requires sacrifice!” Rendra retorted, patting his shoulder roughly.

They started walking towards the lift, discussing a few musical notes. It turned out the meeting was only about a song; there was no serious fraud. They were talking about melodies and a music investment that would drain Erizon’s pockets if it failed, not a Ponzi scheme that would drag Dirga’s Father down. Rendra was probably working as his investment advisor.

Dirga’s investigation plan had failed completely. The cheerful and hopeful Mr Erizon wasn't even a victim of a Ponzi scheme. He must be blind when it came to short-term investments involving Rendra. Perhaps it was just a regular investment trap aimed at the wealthy, not a Ponzi scheme trap.

What was happening now was just boring drama. He switched off his tape recorder and walked towards the lift. He was too late to go to Rendra Anggara’s actual office, but one thing was certain: his next plan was already in motion.

Outside the lobby, a police car was already roaring loudly into the Bintang Jaya Hotel car park.

Dirga’s Father turned in surprise, standing bolt upright, shocked to hear Rendra’s name mentioned. The police were heading for the lift!

Dirga knew his Father was still in danger. But for now, he knew his father would be afraid of getting involved with the law.