The Overhaul

Crossing Paths

Kira's heart was still racing an hour after the notification appeared. Her name. Out of all the people in Southeast Asia, she had been chosen. She had applied to the Youth Governance Program as a joke, a way to mock the increasingly performative state of politics, but never expected to be selected.

Her holo-screen pinged again, but she ignored it. Instead, she grabbed her jacket, deciding that a walk through Jakarta's chaotic streets might help clear her head. The city had changed so much over the past few decades, but it was still home. The layers of glass and steel clashing with the old colonial architecture created a blend that was both futuristic and nostalgic. Her footsteps fell in time with the hum of traffic and the distant whir of drones zipping overhead.

She found herself heading toward Kemang, an area known for its cafés and art galleries. It was one of those places where old Jakarta rubbed shoulders with its newer, shinier version. The streets here were quieter, shaded by trees that had miraculously survived the city's insatiable appetite for development.

Kira turned a corner and almost collided with someone coming from the opposite direction.

"Hey, watch it!" The voice was familiar, even before she looked up to see him standing in front of her.

Ari Surya. The activist, tech entrepreneur, and occasional provocateur who had once been her classmate in a policy seminar. His wild, messy hair was the same, and his eyes still carried that fiery intensity that made him stand out, even back then. Kira hadn't seen him in years, but here he was, looking just as rebellious as ever.

Ari blinked in surprise, then grinned. "Kira Mahesa, in the flesh. Of all the places... What are you doing around here?"

Kira raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing."

Ari chuckled and shrugged. "Oh, you know, just visiting one of the cafés that hasn't sold out to the corporate monsters yet. Still serving real coffee, believe it or not." He pointed to a small, tucked-away café on the corner, its neon sign flickering in the dimming light.

"Real coffee? You've piqued my interest," Kira said, playing along. "Lead the way."

The café was exactly as Ari had described-small, worn around the edges, and filled with the kind of people who looked like they'd been there since the 2020s. The walls were lined with old photographs of Jakarta, a testament to the rapid changes the city had undergone. Kira felt a twinge of nostalgia as she sat down at one of the tables.

"So, what's new in your world?" Ari asked as he waved over the server.

Kira hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should mention the Youth Governance Program. Ari had been critical of the whole thing for years, calling it "window dressing for an aging political system." But she knew he'd find out sooner or later.

"I got selected for the Youth Governance Program," she said, her tone casual, though her stomach flipped as the words left her mouth.

Ari froze mid-sip of his coffee, then burst into laughter. "No way. Kira Mahesa, the eternal skeptic, is now part of the machine?"

"Not by choice," she said, rolling her eyes. "I applied to poke fun at it, and now here I am. I don't even know what to think about it."

Ari shook his head, his laughter subsiding into a smirk. "Oh, I can only imagine the irony of it all. But seriously, what are you going to do? Play along? Or are you going to shake things up?"

Kira leaned back in her chair, contemplating. "I'm not sure yet. I mean, the program's supposed to give people like us a voice, right? But it feels... staged. Like they just want us there to make it look like they're listening. And let's face it, we're still under the thumb of the current regime."

"Exactly," Ari said, his eyes narrowing. "It's all part of the illusion. They dangle this shiny new thing in front of us-'Look, we're giving the youth a say!'-but we're not really in control. It's just more Indonesia Emas PR, masking the same old Indonesia Cemas reality."

Kira chuckled, appreciating that Ari shared her cynicism. "I was thinking the same thing. But now that I'm in it, I wonder if there's a way to actually make a difference. Maybe we can push the system harder than they expect."

Ari leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of rebellion. "Now you're talking. The question is, how far are you willing to push?"

Kira tapped her fingers on the table, mulling over his words. She had always played by the rules, solving problems through logical steps, analyzing data, and finding efficient solutions. But Ari had always been more direct, more willing to break things to build something new. Maybe that's why they had never quite gotten along in the past-too different in their approaches.

But now? Now, she wasn't so sure. Maybe a little chaos was exactly what the system needed.

As she considered this, a holo-screen mounted in the café corner flashed with breaking news. The headlines scrolled past in bold, digital letters:

"IKN Abandoned: New Capital Project Declared Officially Defunct."

Kira sighed, glancing at the images of Kalimantan's half-finished megastructures, now overgrown with weeds and forgotten by the government that had once heralded it as the solution to Jakarta's congestion.

Ari noticed her looking and snorted. "The great Ibu Kota Nusantara. Another brilliant plan that went up in smoke."

"It could've worked," Kira said, though her voice lacked conviction. "If they had planned it better. Maybe if they hadn't rushed it or thrown money at it like it was going to solve everything."

"But they did," Ari shot back. "And look at it now. A ghost city in the jungle. Billions wasted, and for what? To distract us from the real issues-climate, inequality, education, healthcare. The things that matter." His voice was filled with frustration. "It was all part of the same illusion, Kira. Like the Youth Governance Program. Make people believe that change is happening while everything stays exactly the same."

Kira had to admit, he had a point. The ambitious project to move the capital had collapsed under the weight of its own promises. The government had tried to build a shining new city of the future, but the cracks in its foundation had been there from the start. Corruption, environmental damage, logistical nightmares-it had all spiraled out of control. Now, it stood as a failed monument to the country's misplaced optimism.

"A failed capital for a failing system," Ari muttered.

Kira leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen. The same people who had promised Indonesia Emas had been behind IKN. It was hard not to see the parallels between the abandoned capital and the grandiose, hollow promises of the current regime.

"So," Ari asked after a pause, his tone lighter but still tinged with sarcasm, "you think the Youth Program's going to be different? Or just the next big failure like IKN?"

Kira shrugged, her mind racing. "I don't know. Maybe. But if it's going to fail, I'd rather be in the middle of it and try to change something than just watch it collapse from the sidelines."

Ari's eyes flickered with amusement and something else-approval, maybe. "Well, at least you're thinking like a revolutionary now."

As the evening darkened, the two of them continued talking-about politics, power, and the possibilities that lay ahead. The city around them buzzed with life, indifferent to their conversation, but Kira felt something stirring inside her.

Maybe this time, things really could be different.

Or maybe it was just another illusion.

But either way, she knew one thing for sure: she wasn't going to sit quietly and let things happen. Not anymore.