Transferring the last clothing items into her closet, Baram exhaled as she stretched her back, her muscles sore from spending the whole morning unpacking. The whole wall where the balcony was located was a large double glazed glass sliding door, allowing the afternoon sun to filter into Baram’s studio flat. It painted the place in a warm and soothing tone, adding a sense of comfort despite the lack of decorations. The queen sized bed laid next to one half of the sliding door with the curtains pulled over. The other half of the door was open, shining a spotlight on the sofa that faced the bed, with the coffee table in between. A large bookshelf stood proudly next to the sofa, half of it showcasing Baram’s humble collection of books, the other half still empty. Next to the bed was a chest of drawers and a closet that was integrated into the walls. On the other side of the room was the kitchen, a long kitchen island dividing the space up. Finally the bathroom was right by the entrance. A compact place, just enough for Baram to live by herself.

Looking at the progress she made, Baram noticed that there were only two more cardboard boxes left. One contained miscellaneous items that would join her bookshelf and the other her prized whisky from Japan and a red bottle of Barolo wine that she had received as a birthday gift the previous year.

Feeling the cool breeze enter through the open balcony door, Baram stepped out and leaned her arms over the balcony railing, enjoying the tender kiss of the sun as it grazed her skin. Observing the people walking around in the streets below, her eyes trailed along the small road that led to the convenience store before finally reaching Eclipse. Its sign was now turned off, showing no hint of the previous night’s boisterous activities.

As Baram pushed herself away from the railing, a sharp sting ran through her right wrist, her left hand immediately wrapping around her right wrist, softly massaging it. Returning inside, she rummaged through the cabinet under her bathroom sink for the first aid kit but failed to find the Chinese herbal medicine patch that worked wonders on her weak wrists. Baram frowned as she always made sure to be stocked up with the patches since her wrist frequently acted up due to an old injury. Her job as a script writer also did not help as she would often times find herself sitting in front of a computer typing away all day long. Or even worse, be with a notebook and pen and jotting across the pages as if she had been possessed by some evil spirit. In both scenarios, the lack of dynamic movement and remaining stationary while overusing her wrist would result in frequent re-emergence of wrist pain.

Hearing her phone buzz from the kitchen counter, Baram gave up looking for the patches for god knows where they disappeared off to during the hectic move. Checking the caller, Baram let out a frustrated groan seeing the editor’s name flashing on her screen.

“What is it?” Baram muttered in a flat tone, skipping the pleasantries. “I’ve already handed in the draft.”

“I know I know,” The editor replied, her tone apologetic. “It’s just that we’ve received the viewer ratings for this week’s episode, and the PD and producer had some things they wanted to change to tackle the ratings…”

“Which means even the approved scripts will need to be changed accordingly,” Baram exhaled in resignation. “Send me over the notes. If it’s minor stuff I’ll get the revised script to you by the end of today.”

“No hurry, tomorrow is fine as well. It’s Sunday, enjoy it,” The editor exclaimed over the phone. “We can always count on you Baram, bye!”

“As if that makes much difference,” Baram mumbled under her breath after the call had ended.

Placing the phone back on the kitchen counter, Baram crouched down and unsealed the box containing the whisky and red wine. Carefully removing the bubble wrap, Baram raised the whisky bottle high up in the air, allowing the sun to shine through it, making it glisten like a jewel. Smiling to herself in satisfaction, she tucked both bottles of alcohol in a cabinet under the counter, sheltered away from outside danger.

Shuffling across the room towards the bookshelf, Baram sat on the ground as she dug through the final box. Surprisingly the first item Baram found was her high school graduation book which she did not even recall packing. Sifting through the pages, a nostalgic smile graced her face as old memories flashed through her mind. Baram’s eyes landed on her photo, before gliding to the right, skipping one photo and landing on Mark’s. Pushing the yearbook to the side to reminisce at a later date, Baram focused her attention back in the miscellaneous box, raising a confused brow as she found the two Glencairn glasses she had bought when she visited Scotland.

“These should have been packed away with the fragile stuff,” Baram huffed in frustration, scolding herself for being so forgetful.

Checking that there were no cracks on the glasses that were made for drinking whisky, Baram skidded to the kitchen, placing them where they belonged. Returning to the box, Baram froze momentarily, catching a glimpse of a T.S. Eliot poetry book poking out from under her jewellery box. Inhaling deeply, Baram removed the jewellery box, placing it on the shelf, before turning to face the poetry book. Her hands clenched into fists as the very thought of touching the book caused a wave of anger and sorrow to spread through the girl. Truth be told Baram had never been a big fan of poetry and did not care much for it. However T.S. Eliot was his favourite poet. This was his favourite collection of poetry. This was the book that he had spent endless hours reading, turning each page with great care. This was the book that served as the sole physical reminder of what had been, of what could have been, of Baram’s great mistake and source of woe.

Snapping the box shut, Baram closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very suffocated in her flat. Abruptly turning away from the box, Baram grabbed her phone and stuffed it in her bag before slipping on a pair of shoes and rushing out of her flat, hoping that some fresh air would offer her some solace.

With no place to go in mind, Baram wandered aimlessly along the streets of her neighbourhood, shutting out the world around her, keeping her mind blank. By the time she came to her senses due to her calf muscles protesting in pain from the long walk, the sun was already setting, an ombre of orange, red and purple splashed across the sky. Looking at her surroundings, Baram realised that she had inadvertently walked back to Eclipse, though the unlit sign meant that the club was not yet open.

Baram decided to take her chances and walked towards the back entrance. Waltzing inside with nonchalance, Baram looked around the bar, recognising the raven haired boy from last night. Tapping her fingers rhythmically along the bar counter, Baram observed the male whistling listlessly as he squatted on the floor, organising the min