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But something strange happened during the first shoot. Rizky, the Frozen Yogurt Prince , did his rambutan peel. Ibu Dewi, in genuine anger, slapped the fruit out of his hand. The camera was rolling. The sound of the slap echoed perfectly. The lighting caught the spray of rambutan juice.
Raka sat in a swivel chair that was slightly too big for him, clutching a lukewarm cup of kopi tubruk. He was twenty-four, a junior creative at one of Indonesia’s biggest production houses, and currently, he was out of ideas.
