Chapter 1

"That's not how it ends for her," the woman reminded him as she handed him his other cufflink.

"What do you mean?" he asked, wandering around the room in search of his broken watch.

The square room was lit golden brown as the sun wound around the corner behind the façade. The bed was tucked neatly to one end. The rest of the space was an open concrete floor, nearly fully covered by an oversized rug placed at a slight angle. Its intricately woven diamond patterns curved inwards to form a design that looked like a carob pod.

"Just that, when it seems like the recording is done on a typical episode, she expects her guest to stay a while to review the statements made. To make sure that everyone is happy with them."

"That seems a tad presumptuous. How much time did we promise her?"

"Two hours. Why, do you have somewhere to be afterwards that I don't know about?"

He stopped suddenly and gave her a knowing stare.

From the bathroom doorway, a young girl emerged, her huge brown curls still damp from her own shower, pulled back into a ponytail that was already beginning to frizz in the humid air. She carried a small backpack and was carefully zipping it closed.

"Are you guys almost ready?" she asked, looking between them with barely contained excitement.

"Almost," the woman replied, smiling. "Just needs to find his watch."

"It's on the nightstand," the girl said matter-of-factly, pointing. "Right where you left it when you were packing last night."

"Right, thanks! How do I look?" he asked while glancing at himself from the side into the full-length mirror that hung from the bathroom door.

"Smashing dah-ling!" the woman responded, dragging out her words with a slur, trying her best to imitate an aristocratic Brit.

"You're terrible at that," he said to the woman, motioning for her to get her things.

"You look good," the girl added, her voice warm and genuine. "Really good. Like someone important."

He turned from the mirror and smiled at her. "Thank you, sweetheart. That means a lot."

"Did you already check out?" he asked the lady.

"Yes, I did. I used the app on my phone while you were in the shower."

"Oh, perfect. Thank you. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes. Everything's packed."

The girl hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders. "Me too. I've been ready for like twenty minutes."

He lingered at the mirror for a moment more.

He stood six feet and three inches tall, his height inherited from some distant relative neither parent could name, a genetic gift that had always made him feel conspicuous in rooms full of average-sized people. His build was naturally muscular—broad through the chest and solid through the arms—but his shoulders were surprisingly narrow, almost delicate, creating a silhouette that didn't quite match the power suggested by the rest of him.

His deep brown hair was thin at the crown, but around his eyes and mouth, he still looked younger than his years would admit. When he smiled the corners of his eyes crinkled just slightly, creating the beginning of crow's feet that made him look approachable rather than aged. His eyes themselves were a warm amber that shifted between brown and yellow depending on the light.

His nose was slightly narrow, with a subtle curve at the bridge. His ears, by contrast, were long—perhaps disproportionately so—extending down toward his jawline in a way that had made him self-conscious as a teenager.

Below the waist, his proportions shifted dramatically. His legs were skinny—almost comically so compared to his broader upper body—narrow at the thighs and tapering to knobby knees and slender ankles that looked like they belonged to someone half his size. And his feet were large, size fourteen, long and narrow, the kind of feet that seemed necessary to balance out his long torso and keep him from toppling forward.

"Okay, let's head off."

They let the main door to the room close behind them as they ventured down the narrow hall. The girl walked between them, her hand occasionally reaching out to touch the textured wallpaper as they passed. Passing through the tight lobby, he waved to the concierge as they crossed over to the elevator that gave them access to the parking garage.

"I trust you enjoyed your stay with us, sir?" inquired the concierge while adjusting his cloth facemask.

"Yes. For the brief time we were here, you all made us feel very comfortable."

"And the young lady as well, I hope?" the concierge added, nodding toward the girl.

"The breakfast was really good," she offered politely. "Thank you."

"I'm so glad to hear." He waved his right hand in such a way that seemed like he was saying goodbye and hello at the same time. The elevator chimed and the hulking doors whined closed.

"Is it a long drive?" he asked.

"Just long enough,” responded the lady.

"How did you know that I was doing the math in my head?" he asked, while sheepishly tugging at her rear belt loop with his index finger. She spun around and stared into his eyes, holding a straight face. They both held the stare as they lifted the latch to the door on their respective sides of the car.

He climbed into the passenger seat as he released his smile. The girl opened the rear door and slid into the back seat, settling her backpack beside her. The lady adjusted her mirrors and accidentally on purpose jabbed her left elbow into his right thigh. He contorted forward with a shiver and laughed.

"You guys are weird," the girl said from the back seat, but her voice was affectionate, amused.

"You're weirder," he shot back, turning to grin at her.

"Impossible," she replied, pulling out a book from her backpack.

On the drive to the studio they passed children being walked by their parents to school, with workers waiting for bread from the bakery at the foot of a large office tower, forming a line around the school that bled into the commuting children.

The girl looked out the window at the other kids, some her age, some younger. "Do you think the interview will be on TV?" she asked.

"Probably just the radio initially," he said. "But they might post clips online."

As the reflection of trees onto the windshield flickered sequentially like a projected film strip, he reached across the emergency brake and grabbed her hand. She squeezed his hand twice in return while slowly turning the steering wheel.

A short while later they were at the entrance of the BBC Studios. She had taken advantage of a lull in traffic to pull into the bus lane to let him out. He trotted around the car and leaned into the driver's window as she rolled it down. They kissed. She subtly grabbed the bottom of his bearded chin with her thumb and index finger.

Before he could step back, the girl leaned forward from the back seat, reaching between the front seats.

He reached back and squeezed her hand.

"We'll be right here when you're done," the woman added.

He walked briskly towards the daunting glass doors of the office building that awaited his donation. He turned back to watch her drive away. He could see her eyes watching him in the rear-view mirror. Beside her reflection, he could also see the girl's face turned toward him, her hand raised in a small wave. Her eyebrows had an entire conversation with him. All of the encouragement that she gave him in that moment spurred him on to go through the doors and fulfil his appointment. All of their encouragement—both of them, the two people he loved most in the world, watching him with pride and hope. This was the final thing on his list.

He got off the elevator and walked over the crest on the floor as he passed through the threshold of the lobby. He was approached by three women with extended hands. He followed them down one corridor after another until they reached the last door of the hall. As he passed through, the man behind the glass wall waved to him enthusiastically while pointing rapidly to the book on the table in front of him. The book was bulging with coloured sticky notes. He waved back timidly while keeping in step with the three that had entered the spacious studios.

"I'm Lauren. It's a pleasure to meet you," announced one of the women with her hand outstretched.

"How do you do?" he replied while nodding.

"We really appreciate you doing this. We're all such huge fans. You've changed our lives, truly."

He blushed and kept silent.

"Thanks very much for sending over your picks. Charlie has them all loaded up and ready to go."

"Yes, of course. No problem. It was arduous picking them but I made it through. Now we're nearly done, eh?"

"Yes, well, we haven't actually begun yet," she replied quizzically.

"I've been going at this for far too long now."

"I'm sorry to hear that. We never intended for you to..."

"Oh no, it's perfectly fine. I've been anticipating all of this,” he said interrupting her confused train of thought.

"Um, okay then."

Another of the three women told him which seat was his. He hung his jacket on one of the hooks on the wall and slowly sat down into his assigned chair. The chair swivelled and squeaked. Lauren motioned for him to put on his headphones.

"How's the volume for you?"

"I can hear you just fine."

"Excellent. Would you mind bringing yourself closer to the microphone while we talk?"

"Oh, certainly. Sorry, I'm a bit nervous."

"We totally understand. Okay, Charlie, are we all set?" Charlie waved two thumbs up high in the air.

"Just speak to me like we're two friends chatting in a pub over a couple of pints. Just take your time."

"I'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Great. Are you ready to try?"

"What better time than now? Let's do it.”