Evan Drowned in Numbers
The night grew late, but the light on Evan's desk stayed on. In front of him, his laptop screen displayed a spreadsheet full of numbers, charts, and cost estimate tables. His hand busily moved the mouse, while his fingers typed quickly, recalculating unit prices of materials, operational costs, and profit margins to be offered in the tender.
Next to the laptop, a cup of coffee, now nearly cold, sat untouched. He was too focused to care. One by one, he analyzed the numbers, checking if there was any gap where the company could offer a more competitive price without sacrificing profitability.
"Labor costs are like this… but if we renegotiate with the vendor, we can get a five percent discount," he muttered softly, then typed notes in the margin of the Excel file.
From a distance, Reza and a few colleagues still in the office watched him. To them, Evan sitting in front of that screen was a new figure. A 25-year-old man just back from leave, suddenly handling complex calculations like someone who had been in the field for years.
But for Evan, this was nothing new. He had been doing this for the past five years. He knew how to read pricing patterns, knew how to find negotiation leverage, knew which compromise points clients could accept and which they could not.
Yet, in the version of the world he knew now — this 2017 version — everyone thought he was just starting to learn.
Evan sighed, glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen. It was almost midnight. But he still couldn't stop.
There were still numbers to perfect.
—
Reza watched Evan from afar, arms crossed over his chest. He said nothing, but inside he had to admit—Evan worked very meticulously.
The Evan he knew used to be the owner's son who did whatever he wanted. Coming to the office whenever he pleased, working half-heartedly, spending more time outside than at his desk. But the one in front of him now was not that Evan.
This Evan sat seriously in front of the laptop, eyes sharp scanning numbers, hands nimble recalculating cost estimates, even noting potential negotiations with vendors. He wasn't just filling a position, he truly understood the work.
Reza sighed. Beyond all the bad rumors about Evan's past, he had to admit that Evan had business smarts. He knew how to read numbers, how to strategize prices. This wasn't just luck or guesswork. Evan knew what he was doing.
"If I didn't know who you really are," Reza muttered inside, "I'd believe you were talented from the start."
Secretly, he felt relieved. At least in this tender, Evan wasn't a burden. Maybe, he was their ace.
—
From behind the glass door of his office, Mr. Nathaniel William observed his son working at his desk. This scene was almost impossible in the past. The Evan he knew was a young man who came to work more out of formality than dedication.
For three years, Evan had been working at the family company, but he disappeared more often than actually sat at his desk. Sometimes arriving late, sometimes absent altogether. When present, he relied heavily on others. To Mr. Nathaniel, Evan was just an heir who had to be forced to understand the business, not someone who truly cared.
But today was different. Evan sat upright in his chair, busy studying numbers in documents, occasionally tapping the tip of a pen on the table while thinking. His expression was serious, his gaze sharp. He looked… professional.
Mr. Nathaniel took a deep breath. Was this the influence of Ayla and Raka?
Since Evan found out he had a child, something changed in him. Mr. Nathaniel knew that. Evan was no longer acting on his own whim. He took leave properly, came back to the office on time, and now he was really working.
Then, a troubling question arose in his mind: Was this Evan finally finding his life direction? Or was it just a temporary change due to the shock of learning he had a child?
Mr. Nathaniel sighed softly. Whatever it was, as long as this change brought good, he wouldn't complain. But still, there was one thing he couldn't ignore—
How could Evan transform so quickly from a reckless young man to someone so detailed and meticulous handling a project this big?
Something was wrong.
—
Mr. Nathaniel Investigates
The longer he watched Evan, the stranger he felt. In his mind, Evan was still a 25-year-old young man who had only worked three years and should still be learning. Yet what he saw now was someone mature in decision-making, precise in calculations, even more agile than many senior employees in the office.
Mr. Nathaniel did not stay silent. He approached Evan's desk, pretending to look at the documents his son was working on.
"Busy?" he asked casually.
Evan looked up briefly, then nodded. "Still calculating the budget and bid prices for the tender. I'm making sure all margins are safe and competitive."
That answer made Mr. Nathaniel more suspicious. It was the answer of someone used to handling big tenders, not the answer of a young man who had only worked three years.
He glanced at the documents on Evan's desk. The numbers were neatly arranged, the calculations precise. No room for error.
"Did you do this by yourself?" he asked again.
Evan sighed, perhaps annoyed. "Yeah, to be faster."
Mr. Nathaniel stayed quiet but inwardly grew more convinced. This was not Evan who had only worked three years. This was Evan who had been in business longer, longer than he should have.
But how was that possible?
He recalled something—an accident in late 2015. After the accident, Evan changed. Everyone thought it was just trauma, but what if there was something else?
What if his son didn't just lose memories, but experienced something bigger?
—
Evan stared at the document in his hands. All numbers had been carefully calculated, every margin considered. His business instinct told him these were the best figures they could offer.
At first, his reflex was to hand the document directly to his father. After all, his father owned the company, and in his eyes, his father was always the final decision-maker.
But then Evan remembered something. In this year, 2017, Reza was his superior.
Reza was handling this tender.
Evan sighed, then slowly closed the document. He turned to Reza who was busy at the desk beside him.
"These are the best numbers we can offer," he said firmly.
Reza glanced at him, then took the document Evan handed over. His eyes immediately focused on the numbers.
Evan added, "Usually PT Mindamas likes to bargain. If they negotiate, we can lower a bit without sacrificing too much margin."
Reza studied the numbers, then looked back at Evan. "Are you sure these are the best numbers?"
Evan nodded. "If they agree right away, it means we priced too low. If they negotiate, it means the price is just right."
Reza was silent for a moment. Inside, he admitted again that Evan now was very different from the one he knew before.
"Okay," Reza finally said. "I trust you. We'll use these numbers."
Evan nodded slowly. Inside, he smiled wryly.
They all thought this was his first time handling a big tender. But he had been doing this for the past five years.
—
Reza closed the document in his hand, then looked at Evan with slightly raised eyebrows.
"By the way, how do you know Mindamas likes to bargain?" he asked, surprised.
As far as he knew, this was Evan's first real involvement in tender calculations. Usually, Evan just sat quietly in meetings or observed without much input.
Evan answered casually, without hesitation. "Their purchasing head is still Mr. Tan Lie, right? He's been like that from the start."
Reza almost slipped up. "From the start?"
Evan nodded, still calm. "That's his character. He always bargains, but if our numbers make sense, he still takes it. Besides, Mindamas isn't the first we handle."
As if it were normal, as if Evan had been handling this for years.
Reza looked deeper.
Since when did Evan know all these details?
Could it be that despite his reputation as a rebellious kid who came and went as he pleased, Evan had actually been paying attention to the company's affairs? Maybe behind the laid-back image, he cared more than people thought?
Reza held back a slight smile.
"Okay, we'll use these numbers," he said finally.
Evan just nodded. He didn't need to explain that in "another version" of himself, he had won this tender three years in a row.