It was Jal. Anwar put the slice of pizza down and switched the television off. He surged forwards and wrapped his arms around her.

'Hey Jal. What are you doing here?'

His stupid monkey face made Jal laugh inside.

'I was at a competition just down the road…thought I'd pop in and see you. It's all in London, isn't it?' She laughed.

'Erm, I guess, so this is my flat.'

'Ver-ay posh' Jal lied. 'Erm…where's Maxxie?'

'He's asleep. I'll just…um…hang on.'

Anwar crept down the hallway and pushed Maxxie's door open. Maxxie had his arm slung across James' bare chest, he was fast asleep.

'Maxxie, er, Maxxie, mate. Jal's here.'

Maxxie opened his eyes and stuck his head just above the duvet.

'Coming.'

Anwar waited five minutes for Maxxie, and after an awkward silence for a minute or two, Jal had suggested Anwar make her a cup of tea. Jal was strong, he thought. She had to cope with the death of Chris all the time but she still got through. She even aborted Chris' baby. Anwar shuddered. Maxxie emerged from his room, his blond hair tousled at the back and his feet bare.

'Maxxie.' Jal said.

'Hey, Jal, wassup?'

Jal explained why she was in London. After a minute James came through into the living room. Anwar handed them all a cup of tea.

'Ah, where's the beer, mate?' James asked.

'I'm Muslim.' Anwar half lied. Jal frowned at him.

'I thought you drank anyway!' Jal knew he was lying.

'Nah – I stopped. Kinda like being sensible, huh?'

...

Sketch was waiting at the bus stop: it was quarter to two and Jal would be expecting her soon. The bus swerved round a corner, and she got on.

Jal wasn't in. Sketch had asked her brothers but they said she was 'off playing in some musical thingy'. That wasn't like Jal, she thought. And she really needed someone to talk to. She was sure Jal nearly always kept to the time.

Sketch thought it would be a bit of a waste of bus fare to go back home, and her Mum wasn't expecting her for another two hours; she may as well go into town. Sketch walked past the old pub on the corner: she could see a man with a stale grey beard leering at young blonde women on the bar. Sketch hated the way some men treated women: like objects, nothing more.

Sketch was half way into town, when she spotted a head of brown, silky curls: Michelle. Ducking behind the nearest garbage can, she peeked out to watch. Michelle wasn't doing anything unusual. She was sitting on a low wall, and she looked gorgeous, as usual. She had a mini skirt on strappy sandals and Sketch saw at least four different men look somewhere near that hard-to-look-away-from cleavage. Anwar had once said that Michelle was awfully self-conscious about her breasts, Tony had always teased her and called her 'Nips'. Another example of the disgusting way men treated women. She knew Michelle didn't like her, but Sketch felt hot jealousy build up inside her like a volcano.

Suddenly, a young man appeared around the corner of a nearby building. Sketch blinked as the man approached Michelle. He was tall and handsome and had wavy brown hair that swept just over his forehead and blue twinkly eyes like sapphires, winking in sunlight.

…

Jal hopped off of the train. It was approaching eleven at night and she was exhausted. She had spent the entire day, after the music competition, at Maxxie and Anwar's flat. Jal walked home and found a note stuck to her door. It read:

Jal,

The mates and me are down the pub at the mo. Some weirdo girl came looking for you earlier today. Said her names' Lucy.

'Fuck,' Jal muttered. She'd forgotten all about Sketch. Sketch was a bitch, though. She had stalked Maxxie and she had made Michelle vomit repeatedly after giving her some stupid pills. Jal wasn't as naïve as the rest – she never really drank, had never smoked and certainly never tried pills or weed. Jal had to put up with her brother coming home five days a week drunk and weed-sodden. He was normally totally out of it. Jal made her way upstairs, brushed her teeth and, almost immediately after pulling the duvet over her slim body, fell sound asleep.

…

Cassie was doing her rounds at the café. It was nearly six and she was exhausted. The last time she had eaten was yesterday evening. Serving up hot chocolates to hungry New-Yorkers didn't exactly help.

Eric and her weren't lovers – not in that sense. They had a sort if pact between them – Cassie slept with Eric in order to pay her flat rent. She shared the flat with Eric, but she couldn't pay her rent. Her only job was one at a run-of-the-mill shitty café. Dressed in an old white apron she sped over to a table with a man and three children.

'Can I help you?'

'Sure,' the man answered, 'Er, a cappuccino and three hot chocolates, please.'

'I want a donut with chocolate on.' One of the girls said.

'Now, now.' Their father said, but he let the girl order it anyway.

It reminded Cassie of the days when Cassie used to go out with her Dad to a restaurant. He was so tight on money he usually would only allow her to get a starter. Cassie closed her eyes. Thinking of her parents back in Bristol made her sad; and sort of mad too – Cassie's parents hadn't exactly helped with the eating disorder thing.

'Daddy, that girl, is she anorexic?' the little girl asked.

She clearly thought Cassie was out of earshot. Too bad Cassie had heard.

…

Sid made his way out onto the dusty streets of New York. Skyscrapers loomed ominously above him and he was reminded of his first day at Roundview.

Taking a picture of Cassie out of his wallet, he pulled his hat on. Cassie, she was so beautiful. She had long, blonde hair and warm brown eyes. She was perfect, with her long white legs and elegant waist. She didn't think so. Sid sighed. He wondered whether she would ever get over it.

By eight p.m., Sid was fed up. He had been searching for two hours straight, yawning; he made his way into an old run down café just off the sidewalk. Sid ordered a latte from the pretty waitress. Out the back, a thin blonde girl was getting into a yellow taxi – he had missed her again.

…

Michelle flopped onto her bed. A dusty odour filled her room, and she realised Harry had probably been going through her make up again. On her phone was a message from Dan and Jal. Dan's asked her what she was wearing for the wedding the next week, and Jal's told her to meet her in Topshop the next day at one p.m. Michelle was tired. If Dan really cared he'd come in and ask her. And Jal could wait – Michelle had to find out what was going on with Sid.

Michelle closed her eyes and fell asleep dreaming of him. She dreamt that he had found Cassie, but Cassie was dead on the street. Her heart filled with anguish, Sid was distraught. Michelle woke up fifteen minutes later, only to find Dan in the room staring at her, with his flies undone.

…

Tony was downstairs in the bar. He had had a pretty uneventful day. He'd got to the hotel okay – unpacked and called Michelle. Tony had explored Cardiff for a bit and finally headed back to the hotel. There he had met Ralph, a guy who was also English, studying at Cardiff. At two in the morning the guys decided to go back to their rooms and said goodnight to each other. As Tony, turned off the light for the night, his final thought was Michelle.

Lucy Upton