Michael gave him a quick smile and nodded. They made their way towards the stairs, which was, for them, unstrategically situated at the far opposite end of the bar. Cassie saw Michael grimacing at the short but dangerously exposed distance. She let out a quiet giggle.

Cassie couldn't help but wonder how different it would be if she had visited such places as a much younger adult. If she had, Cassie concluded, perhaps she would have been like Alica; a happier, more beautiful, and likeable girl.

From family gatherings Cassie came to know that Alica met her boyfriend, Adam, in a karaoke bar like this one. They got married two years later and remained as a happy couple until ... Until ...

Cassie pushed the memory away. She didn't want to think about it. No one in the family expected the tragedy. Cassie was about sixteen or seventeen years old when it happened. Alica's pale, lifeless face, Adam burying his head in his hands in a corner, her aunt collapsing and wailing in despair next to the hospital bed ...

Cassie's hand shook in her mother's. She couldn't believe it. Her cousin. Dead.

Cassie had always wanted to be Alica. She thought of how wonderful the world would be if she was Alica Meyer instead of Cassie Woods. No, she wouldn't ever want to be Alica now –

Fear clutched at her heart and Cassie felt a sudden cold rush of horror. She shouldn't be here, she should leave, she wouldn't be her cousin all over again, no, no –

Cassie felt a squeeze around her hand and drew in a gasp. She looked up and saw the look of concern in Michael's eyes; she had been grasping his arm tightly for the past minute.

Cassie loosened her grip. The sounds of pleasant, cheery conversations mingled with music slowly filled her ears once more, replacing the forbidding silence of the hospital she remembered.

"Nervous ... Just ignore me," Cassie said eventually, a small smile on her lips to reassure him. I'm here, with Michael. Not some hospital, she reminded herself.

They passed a group of young adults as they ascended the dimly lit stairs. Cassie felt Michael stiffened when a girl frowned quizzically and did a double take.

"Lucy, which drink did you say you wanted?" her friend called.

"O-Oh, I wanted ..." The girl turned away.

Cassie and Michael hurried up the rest of the stairs and slid into Room 3. Michael locked the door without delay and finally let out the breath he had been holding, exhilarated that they had managed to make it so far without anyone noticing.

"Like spies in an action film, huh?" Cassie commented, breathless herself as Michael placed his cap aside and began to remove his various disguises.

"Partners in crime," he chuckled.

A soft silence fell between them. Cassie took the time to examine the private room they were in.

Cassie had constructed the scene many times in her head. How she would react if one seemingly impossible day she stepped foot into a karaoke bar with her friends. She wasn't jumping in joy or yelling her lungs off in maniacal excitement as she thought she would.

Instead, a sense of closure wrapped around her. She let out a long breath, then opened her eyes and surveyed their space once more.

The room wasn't much; the couch looked lumpy and there were crisp crumbs on the carpeted floor ... but all of it signified something she hadn't had in her life.

"You mentioned ..." Michael said tentatively. Cassie spun back to face him. "You told me about how you haven't been to places, so I thought ..."

Cassie felt her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Michael remembered her babbling over all that uncontrollable crying?

"I know how it's like," he mumbled, looking down at the floor. "You see something perfectly normal, but you get sad and sometimes angry at it ... because of how it represented some aspect of your life you'd lost."

He took a deep breath before lifting his eyes to look at her. "So if – if I could help it, I don't want anyone else ... I don't want you to feel that way."

A silent interval followed. She could tell that both of them felt a linking similarity with each other. It was pathetic, in a way, holding on to some deep-rooted sadness and not letting go, but she understood the contradiction; it appeared easy from the outside – forgive, forget, move on – but it wasn't like that from the inside. It could never be that easy.

Cassie stepped towards Michael. She looked into his eyes, communicating without words that she did understand. Slowly, gently, she eased her arms around his waist, hugging him.

"Thank you," she whispered. She wanted to express how much she appreciated what he did for her. How much it meant. Nothing else.

Cassie felt Michael placing his hand on her head and ever so gently, pressing it onto his shoulder. Cassie closed her eyes, inhaling his scent with each soft breath she took. She felt safe and comforted like a little girl in his arms.

They stayed like this for a while, him holding her there quietly. Eventually, Cassie let go of him, and they separated gently from one another. Their eyes met and she beamed up at him. Michael chuckled lightly in return.

A sense of giddy excitement coursed through her body as their moods lightened. Cassie gave him another smile and went to search for the microphones. Michael shuffled behind her.

"You know, I might get punched tomorrow, and makeup won't cover it," said Michael, out of the blue. He heaved a dramatic sigh and shook his head at his own prediction of misfortune.

"What are you talking about?" Cassie laughed, her back still facing him. She found the microphones, and discovered that she had never held one before.

"Well ..." Michael contemplated. "I don't think he would like it if I, er ... take you out like this."

"Who are you talking about?" Cassie asked. She privately made a guess that it was her father, because he wouldn't approve of staying out at a quarter to two in the morning and would most certainly reprimand her for breaking the curfew that was presently non-existent, but which she had grown up with.

Michael's voice was quiet and unsure when he answered. "Whoever ... whoever you're going out with."

Cassie paused at his statement, detecting a question between those words. Come to think of it, she hadn't really told him this part of her personal life.

Was that what he had been considering?

"I'm not seeing anyone," she said calmly, passing him a microphone in a casual manner.

Smiling, he replied a simple "Okay". Cassie did the same, not saying anything more.

Then, checking his watch, Michael said, "We got only about an hour. If you want to, I can curl up into a ball over there and you can pretend I'm not here." He moved towards the end of the couch.

"No, no," Cassie pulled him back by the arm. "You didn't bring me all the way here to leave me singing alone –"

Michael pretended not to have heard her and teared open a packet of chips he had secretly brought along in a small bag. His mouth bulged comically with the chips he had stuffed inside.

"Is it right ... to do this?" Cassie hesitated. "You sneaking snacks in here?"

Michael shrugged and retreated towards the corner of the couch again.

"Hey, don't keep them all to yourself!"

When the first song came on, Cassie felt her palms prickling anxiously. She hadn't forgotten that the person sitting right next to her was a professional singer. Quickly, however, she couldn't care less even when she sang out of tune. There was only Michael bearing witness and anyway, it made everything funnier and sillier. She never thought it would be so uplifting to sing, and made a mental note to hum more often to her animals.

At one point, Cassie keyed in one of Michael's songs, and he really did curl up on the couch when his music came on. Cassie prodded and tickled him – they were simply like kids having fun! – and eventually Michael surrendered and through barely-contained giggles, sang the lines.

An hour later, they snuck out of the same backdoor and exited the karaoke bar. A casually dressed Riley was already waiting in the alley.

"Alex," Riley said politely, lifting his cap.

For some reason, the absence of Riley's uniform and his deadpan expression tickled both their funny bones. Especially Michael's. He laughed aloud before he could stop himself and instantly, several heads turned in their direction: three tough-looking men with intimidating tattoos and two women wearing heels. Their default surly expression faded and dawning on their faces was realisation as they craned their necks to goggle at Michael.

Cassie turned to Michael in alarm. What would happen if they know it's him? The very thought scared her for a moment, but before Cassie could think of anything else, Michael grabbed her hand and jumped into the car. Their passenger's door wasn't even yet shutted safely when Riley started the car's engine and sped away from the alley.

Cassie fell back onto her seat. She could still feel her heart pounding. Her head turned towards Michael and they stared at each other.

Panic gradually gave way to the reckless, triumphic sense of adventure and soon the two of them burst into laughter at how they had got away. Riley, too, was smiling along with them through the front mirror despite of himself.

"You're a bad influence," Cassie teased, pointing at Michael sternly.

Michael was still grinning broadly from ear to ear. His eyes seemed to shine with endless, unspoken adventures. Cassie rolled her eyes and shook her head in exasperation and amusement, but she couldn't stop smiling, either. She wouldn't ever forget tonight.