As expected, she came on time. Somewhat unfitting jazz music circles through the restaurant. It's overcrowded. She took a seat.

"I'd think I'm lucky to have booked a reservation the night before." I took a sip from my drink.

She pushes the plates away and sets her journal on the table, completely missing my gaze. Then, she took out a pen, occasionally making small edits. We sat quietly for a while.

"You're quite troublesome." She said.

"If that's what you think."

"No one else would behave as badly." Remita looks at me.

"Perhaps we just happened to meet on certain occasions." I raised my glass.

"Fine occasion for you to waltz in, you won't leave unless you're sure that you stirred something up."

"Oh don't be difficult." I said, "Haven't your news editing job already gained you enough fame?"

"But nobody ever bothered to check who wrote the papers. Instead, everyone knew who you are."

"The one who keeps winning the lottery?" I chuckled.

"Come on."

She stuffs the journal in her bag. The dim candle lights are starting to burn out.

"I'll stay with you." I said.

"For god's sake, sod off somewhere."

"Do you believe in such gods?"

"Don't change the topic." She said.

"It's only been a month," I said. "We're all stuck in this damned place."

"You're a goner."

"I can't help it, you know that."

Remita sighs. She crossed her fingers.

I laughed.