Part 1

Why did I choose law school in the first place?

Before dead, my father said that I should become a hero in the world of law. Fight crime, uphold justice. That's why I was named Ameena Justisia. How, very good for sure? Even though if you're honest, the law doesn't need to be enforced, because the only thing that can stand upright is cassava stems. Law should be bought.

Hey, it's true. Listen to me. 80% of the world's problems can be solved with money. I think you got the name wrong. I want to change to Ameena Cuania, Always Go to Party when I was Young, Happy whwn Getting Old, and Go to Heaven after Die.

It's not just guys who want in heaven to meet a girl as beautiful as Bae Suzy, I really want to meet a guy like Kim Soo-hyun. The name is a prayer. That's why if you want your child to be rich, give him a name that contains elements of money.

But my father is a good person. It is impossible to give a frankly materialistic name. My father is an idealistic man. When sold meatballs, he never mix rat meat. So honest. Unlike me who justifies any means. The 2.8 GPA on the grade transcript is the result of cheating. If I didn't cheat, my GPA will only be one comma. Luckily my friends at law school used to be good, each exam gave me the cheat sheet I asked for.

Why are my friends all good? I was also confused. I'm not pretty, just cute. My body is not tall, even so cute that many say I resemble a junior high school student. The brain is also like a processor, Pentium 2. Loading sometimes takes a long time, especially when it's shorted. I really do not have any advantages other than excess sin.

Besides, do I want to go to law school myself? I want, but not to eradicate crime, uphold justice. That's Spiderman's job.

Befire his death, my father once advised me not to steal other people's rice pots. He encouraged me to go to and graduate from law school so I can become a lawyer. My goals are high right? Of course. I want to be like a lawyer who likes to show off a ring the size of a potatoes.

Unfortunately, becoming a lawyer is not as easy as you hope. I sent fifty applications, all rejected. Starting today, even a year I'm officially unemployed after graduating.

Mother said, I was told to continue Father's business, to be a rat meatball seller. Uh, sorry, beef meatballs. Even if I'm the one selling it, there's no guarantee that the meat used is real beef or rat meat that can be found on the side of the gutter. If I were a meatball seller, the rats around your house would suddenly rarely walk around the gutters, instead moving into bowls in adorable round shapes.

Oh yeah, I said earlier that I don't have any advantages besides sins, right? I'm wrong. I have the advantage of not knowing myself. Despite being rejected 50 times, I was determined to apply to the 51st law firm.

The law firm I applied to the other time actually had no vacancies anymore. I'm the only one who dared to apply. Unexpectedly, unexpectedly, a week after I sent my application e-mail, there was an interview call from Candra, Utomo, Andika, Narendra and Partners Law Firm or CUAN Law Firm for short.

See, it's also a business. So don't be pessimistic. It's like saying, if someone's house doesn't receive guests, just break down the door. It's definitely open.

On the appointed day, I was ready with a white shirt top and red pant skirt. Why are you wearing a red skirt? Grandpa Google said, red is a color that is sure to invite attention. All eyes will be on you. I hope the lawyer there will look down at the skirt I'm wearing, not to my face or even to my head. Because my head is empty. My head is filled with brains. My brain has nothing in it except cash.

"Mom, I,m going now," I said goodbye to Mom.

Mother's job is to sell vegetable salad. Before dawn, I bought vegetables, peanuts and other spices at the traditional market. Now Mother is boiling a large pot of vegetables. The peanuts are ground.

"Yes, be careful. Pray a lot so that you will be successful in every endeavor," my mother advised.

"Of course. Asalamualaikum."

"Waalaikumsalam," said Mother, still busy stirring the pot.

After kissing the back of Mother's hand, I went out to warm up the motorbike. Old motorbike from college days. My father used to buy used ones, he said that riding a motorbike is more economical than taking a bus. But you are wrong. This motorbike even made him bankrupt because he was diligent in and out of the workshop. Because it's old, I call this motorbike The Grandpa.

Bruummm, bruummm....

Incredibly this morning Grandpa doesn't cough, doesn't cranky. Well done. I warm up the engine for about five minutes.

The distance between the house and the CUAN office is about thirty minutes if there are no traffic jams. Quite far. If there is traffic jams, my trip needs forty-five minutes to an hour. That's why I deliberately left at seven so that I could arrive at the office by eight o'clock.

The blue sky is slightly overcast. The sun shines bashfully like me when offered ten million. The main road is quite crowded with people going to work. Jammed, solid creeping.

I stopped when the red light came on. Suddenly, there was a drop of water on my hand which was still holding Grandpa's handlebars. Gosh, why wear all the rain events?

I slid down the sidewalk, grabbed a raincoat from the trunk and put it on. As soon as I got on Grandpa and I started, apparently Grandpa didn't want to go.

"Grandpa, ouch... Your granddaughter needs this job. Please just turn it on today. There is an interview." I begged with a pitiful face. I clasped my hands to worship Grandpa.

But in vain. The grandpa sulked, not knowing the place and time. Even though I worshiped, pounded on the dashboard, kicked the tires, Grandpa remained silent.

"Just take a motorcycle taxi, Sister. I will take you by motorcycle," said a voice beside me, a man in a black jacket with his face covered by a full face helmet with the windows opened. From his appearance it looks like he's a motorcycle taxi driver.

"Sister huh? You're not my brother," I said curtly.

"Hei, don't be fierce. I just want to take you, little girl. Where is your school?"

I clucked. Who also wants to go to school? Smart ass. I took a screwdriver pretending to check the engine, knowing nothing.

"Be careful, Little Girl. Don't open it carelessly. Later you can't install it again, you don't know anything," said the motorcycle driver who didn't want to give up.

I don't know why Grandpa suddenly relapsed. I don't know the world of mechanics. I threw the screwdriver onto the asphalt and stood in front of the motorcycle driver.

"Graha Nusa Kencana Building. How much?" I asked.

"What are you going to do there? You can't skip school. I will report it to your parents, you know," the motorcycle driver threatened me.

What? I rolled my eyes. Ho did he know my parents? The basis is not clear. I don't want to wait on it, could run out of time.

"How much, Sir? Hurry up."

"one hundred dollars."

"Huh, why so expensive?" I asked, glaring.

"Okay, I give you eighty dollat. It's traffic jam, Sister. It's also rain. I have to buy herbal medicine since I don't want to get sick."

I sighed in annoyance. What do you want? There is no better choice than using a motorcycle service.

"Grandpa, wait here. I have a job interview first. Pray for it to go smoothly," I said goodbye to Grandpa. I rubbed his body before getting on the motorcycle driver.

Graha Nusa Kencana is far away. Plus, the rain is getting heavier and heavier like this, the trip is getting longer. The motorcycle driver did not dare to step on the gas. The road is slow just like a snail.

"This is the the building," said the motorcycle driver, stopping in front of the outer portal.

"Come in, Sir. Why are you stop here?"

The entrance is still quite far. I can sweat profusely if I walk.

"You just got here by that payment. If you want me to come in, you must pay ten dollar extra," The motorcycle driver answer.

Is it okay if I splash Ojek Abang's head with sewage water? Stingy is not approx.

Resentfully I took money from my wallet to pay for it. I ignored the thanks for giving Abang Ojek, but immediately ran through the portal.

The building is tall, definitely bona fide, according to my dream to work in an elite office. I ran, but why so far not up to? I'm already out of breath. The rain didn't stop, it just got heavier. Thank goodness I was wearing a raincoat. Otherwise, you can get soaked.

As I ran, a bright red sports car passed beside me. Even though it was wet, the car still looked shiny and smooth. The driver honked. I pulled over to let the car pass. Instead of being grateful, the car stepped on a puddle of water which automatically splashed down my skirt.

"Hey, bastard! Stop!" I cursed while raising my hand. If there was a stone, I would have thrown the glass' car.

The car kept going, without noticing that there were beautiful people, eh common people, who shouted at him.

Shit, my skirt is soaked. Rich people have no morals. Who the heck is he? Opening the glass to just apologize is not willing. Just watch out, wait for my revenge when I become a famous lawyer!