Barron grunted as he moved the full keg of beer as close to the coupler mouth as possible. Working quickly, he removed the coupler from the empty keg, dragging it aside. He shifted the full barrel closer and removed the plastic seal before twisting the hanging coupler back into place on the well of the new keg.

He lifted the empty barrel, placing it in the corner with two other empty ones, ready for delivery back to the manufacturer tomorrow.

This job was usually reserved for his bar manager, Ian, but he was off sick today. He didn't want to make Harriet, his long serving bartender and day supervisor, work the arduous activity of keg changing, so the task fell to him.

Once done, he wiped his hands down the front of his jeans before stopping by his back office and going through the new inventory to be delivered next week.

The Good Home had been in business for the past three years and was a roaring success. After getting his business degree and coming into a small but profitable inheritance from his grandparents at twenty one, he knew that he wanted to come back to New Haven and open a bar. His dad was a silent partner and together they bought the empty building and went about converting it into a trendy bar and restaurant.

Their gamble paid off with many patrons, young and old, choosing The Good Home as their local watering hole.

There was a main restaurant section that was a mix of small and long tables as well as seating at the bar. In the back corner was a separate room filled with cozy arm chairs and couches. It had a hunting lodge, comfy library decor kind of feel to it.

At the other end of the bar was a section mainly for families with a small play area for the little kids. You could also hire out a private room for parties and functions. They had a small wedding elopement dinner there two weeks ago and an upcoming fifth birthday party next Saturday. It was an inclusive spot and he was proud to be a co-owner of it.

After emailing his meat supplier regarding a small discrepancy in his order for next week, he finished up some more menial tasks before shutting his computer down.

The perks of owning a successful establishment and hiring competent managers was that he only needed to do the bare minimum of check ins before freeing his day up. He still liked to be heavily involved in the day to day tasks but after realizing that Ian and Harriet were more than competent managers and supervisors - and his dad firmly telling him that he needed to stop micromanaging - he learnt to let go of the reins a bit.

He picked up his phone and realized that his Mom had texted him thirty minutes ago asking him to stop by the house. After flicking a message back that he would be there in ten, he locked his door and waved goodbye to his bar staff. It was only 1pm on a Sunday and already the place was busy with the lunch crowd.

As he turned the ignition on in his car, the radio station he had tuned in blasted through the quiet of the vehicle, assaulting his senses with the familiar tune. Swearing, he reached down and violently jammed at the button on his stereo to change the station. His heart slowed back to a steady beat once he heard an old 80's rock ballad blaring through his speakers.

Funny, he used to be a fan of The Living English. Now, he just couldn't stand to listen to them anymore.

As he drove the short trip to his parent's, his hand tapping on the steering wheel to the crooning of Journey, he gave a contented sigh. He was at peace for the first time in a long time. The regrets of his past were no longer a stranglehold on his mental and physical health.

Was there a deep yawning of emptiness sometimes where he refused to acknowledge the cause? Yes. Did he have a lot of friends - friends he had won back after a lot of groveling - and a good relationship with his parents again? Also yes.

But there was always a tightness in his sternum. A specific hunger that had started at seventeen and had stayed with him. He felt like he was missing a limb. Like he was never alone but always lonely. Like he was running a marathon but staying in one place. If he wallowed in his thoughts for too long, he would start to twitch and then the need would overtake him. It had taken a long time for him to push that compulsion away.

As he turned into his parent's driveway he banished those dark thoughts away. He was getting sentimental in his ripe old age of twenty-four.

"Mom!" he called out as he closed the front door behind him. He removed his jacket and hung it by the door.

"In here!" he heard her call out.

As he approached the kitchen he frowned at the sight of his Mom and Dad sitting at the dining table. His Mom had a bright smile on her face and his dad was watching his approach wearily.

'What did I do?" he joked as he took a seat across from them.

His Mom gave a nervous laugh before glancing cautiously at his dad. His father only lifted a brow at his wife before flicking his hand towards his son. A gesture that read, "the floor is yours."

"Son," his Mom started, clasping her hands on the table in front of her. "You know how I'm introducing that new program for young girls next summer?"

'Vaguely," he replied, running a hand down his face. "Refresh my memory?"

His Mom huffed in annoyance. Obviously she had mentioned the program more than once. "We're doing classes for young girls, teens and pre teens. Self defense classes, self esteem, career talks, sexual health clinics, that type of thing."

"Oh, right. Yeah, that sounds like a conversation I was tuned into. Ouch!" he startled as his father leaned over to smack him over the head.

"Listen to your Mom," was all he said. His Dad was a man of few words, but when he spoke, you best believe we all listened.

"Sorry, it sounds great. What about it?"

"Susan and I were talking a few weeks back about how it would be lovely if Eden could come and do a talk with the class." she slowly said, eyeing her son over the rim of her coffee mug.

His face remained passive but his hands clenched in tight fists at the sound of her name.

"Hmm." he made a non committal sound.

"She's such a huge role model for the girls, they admire her so much." Jesus, Mom, why don't you start a fan club, he sulked.

Not that she needed another fan club. There were two set up in her honor according to his search on Instagram. Eden Jamison Fans and Fans of Eden Jamison. The pages were pretty much the same - photos of Eden either strutting the catwalk, modeling in ads or candid shots they had lifted from her personal Instagram page.

"Susan told me that she usually goes on vacation to Europe during summer."

Mykonos twice, Croatia and the French Riviera the other two summers, he remembered.

He focused again on his Mom, impatience at having to listen to Eden's exploits invading his good mood.

"Sorry, what does this have to do with me?" he interrupted.

His Mom gave him a long, hard look. "Eden called her Mom and said that she might come home for Summer. Susan ran the idea past Eden about the summer program and she jumped at the idea to help. She called me an hour ago to confirm her availability."

"Eden called you?" he asked in surprise, his heart jumping at the idea that he had missed Eden by an hour, even if it was via phone. And only talking to his Mom. "I didn't know you had her number."

Her Mom shrugged, "She asked Susan to pass it onto her so she could get in touch with me directly. We're still ironing out what classes she'll do and what she'll speak about but I'm going to give her free range on that. I'll need to advertise and prepare for the onslaught of sign ups. I just know she's going to sell out."

"Yeah, no doubt," he murmured, eyes downcast as he picked at an invisible spot on the table.

"I know you two haven't really talked since your break up but I'm just letting you know that you're probably going to see Eden around a lot next Summer. I'll be talking to her a lot, meeting up with her et cetera. I just want to give you fair warning so you're not surprised. I already spoke with Eden and she's cool with seeing you around."

He just bet she was.

It was true that he hadn't really spoken to her since they parted ways after graduation but she had been back to New Haven throughout the years. She was mainly home for holidays but he had crossed paths with her around town a few times.

She didn't seem bothered by his appearance, choosing to treat him with cool indifference. He used to nod at her when he thought she had glanced his way but since stopped. It was embarrassing how much she pretended that she didn't see or know him.

"Son?" His Dad asked when he went quiet for a few moments.

Snapping out of his reprieve, he rubbed his neck uncomfortably. "Thanks for letting me know, Mom. I didn't need the warning," he lied, "but I appreciate it. The town's big enough for the both of us. Hey, maybe we'll end up being friends again," he joked weakly.

The look on both his parent's faces let him know that they too thought pigs would fly before Eden would befriend Barron again.

"That's the spirit," his Mom smiled unconvincingly.

Awkward tension started to seep in the air so he cleared his throat before standing. "I gotta head back to the bar," he excused himself.

"Didn't you just come from there?" his Dad asked.

"Uh, yeah, but Ian's sick so gonna," he made a jerking motion with his thumb over his shoulder. "Ya know," he finished lamely.

His Mom smiled softly. "Alright, son. Drive safe. See you tomorrow for dinner."

"Yep!" he brightly exclaimed, already halfway down the hall.

He climbed back into his car and let out a long breath. He rested his head on the steering wheel before realizing that his parents could probably see him.

Once he got home, he immediately took his laptop out of its case and quickly booted it up. The compulsion that had been a dull ache in his soul had reared in full force since he left his parents house.

It had been almost a year since he had purposely looked up anything related to Eden.

After her ad campaign at eighteen blew up, he lost all hope of getting her back. The shy and reserved girl who would tug down a skirt if it was too short had purposely posed topless for a nationwide ad campaign. If that didn't scream "I'm over you" then he didn't know what did.

But what really made him give up completely was the phone call her Mom received at his kitchen table a few weeks later. He could hear Eden's screeches through the speaker and he almost gathered his keys up so that he could try and track her down, thinking she was in trouble.

But, no.

It was the phone call that would carry her out of his life forever.

After that, he started to exclusively see Lissa. It was what the other girl kept pushing him for and so he had finally slept with her. That's right. Until that point he refused to sleep with Lissa, holding out hope that Eden would take him back. He thought it would endear him to her if she learnt that he hadn't let it get that far with Lissa.

But after he watched her car leave the town limits of New Haven, her trunk laden with all her belongings, his hope and heart went along with her.

He and Lissa were on and off for a year before she had picked his phone up to google something and discovered his secret. He had a tab open on Google Chrome in his phone. Not of porn. It would have been better if he did.

No - they were all searches of Eden.

"This is why you won't fully commit to me," she had accused him, tears welling in her eyes. "This is why I feel like there's a ten foot wall around you everytime I try to get close. You're still not over her. You still love her."

He hadn't denied it. What would be the point?

After that he had taken to casual hook ups with tourists who came through town during their busy holiday periods. Satisfied with the sexual release they could provide, but not willing to fully let his heart get involved.

Meanwhile he had fully leaned into his obsession with Eden. Like a drug addict, he searched for anything and everything related to his former love. He checked her instagram everyday - bolstered by the fact that she had unblocked him. That had to mean something, right?

But his hope soured when he discovered, while looking over his Mom's shoulder one day, that Eden had a private page; listed under a fake name to avoid being uncovered. She had seventy-two followers on there, all trusted friends and family members. Her main page, one she updated constantly but impersonally, was reserved for fans. He was reduced to one of two point five million fans.

Still, that didn't stop him from googling stupid things like "what is this year's Met Gala theme?" and looking forward to what costume she would be gracing the event with. He didn't even know what a Met Gala was until he had seen a picture of her dressed in a fiery red catsuit at twenty years old.

He had streamed the two times she had walked Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. The image of her in a gold, bejeweled bikini - white angel wings flapping like a halo behind her, was something he dreamed about for months after viewing.

His obsession was rumbled, however, when his Mom had logged into his Youtube account and was bombarded with video suggestions and viewing histories of Eden. His Mom had paused in her perusal while his face felt like a thousand fire ants were crawling over it. She carried on without missing a beat, ignoring the fact that his search bar had her name all over it.

After that shameful event, he stopped cold turkey. He blocked her instagram account to remove the temptation and spent two weeks watching random videos on his Youtube account to remove any video suggestions of her.

It was hard at first. Whenever he reached for his phone he found himself starting to type her name in like muscle memory. His heart would race and he could feel his body sweat in anticipation. He was like a drug addict. The only fix he needed was Eden.

But he forced himself to stop. It wasn't healthy and certainly wasn't making him get over Eden any faster. And he needed to get over her.

The only small bump he allowed himself was the New Haven Alert Instagram page that he followed. It gave updates on events and news in New Haven and the surrounding towns. But it mainly provided updates on Eden Jamison. That was how he had found out that she was dating Joshua Gates, lead singer of The Living English.

So while he had compelled himself to cease his Eden obsession, he still allowed himself a little taster every now and then.

California sober is what he called it. Not completely clean, but the worst of his habit had been quelled.

However, after the news he just had from his Mom, he thought "to hell with it." Her name brought back that shaky and sweaty feeling.

He knew just the cure.

He brought up Youtube and typed in "Eden Jamison day in the life of" and hit search.

A year after her debut at New York Fashion Week, a well known fashion magazine and blog featured a fifteen minute video on their channel dedicated to Eden. There were other models who they showcased in a series titled "Day in the Life of." But there was only one model he cared about.

He hadn't watched the video in almost a year but he could still memorise every word she spoke.

His leg bounced up and down as he watched a white door open revealing a beautiful smiling Eden. He leaned forward as she beckoned the cameras into her apartment and spoke openly as she moved effortlessly around her small home, putting on make up and posing in a simple white T-shirt and black jeans.

He avidly watched as the cameras continued to follow her to a cafe while she ordered a Poke bowl. It was this scene where she casually sat outside and openly conversed about her home life.

"I'm from a small town in Pennsylvania called New Haven. It's just me and my Mom, who's honestly my best friend and who I owe my career to. How I was discovered was so out of the blue. I was down in the dumps over a break up and she suggested we go to New York on a girls trip to try and get me out of my funk."

His heart always hammered at this part and he never failed to feel guilt over what he had put her through.

"I had literally only been at the airport for ten minutes before this woman in big sunglasses comes rushing up to me asking if I model. And the rest is history. It was pure serendipity." She paused before smirking at the camera.

"I guess I should thank my ex as well. If he hadn't broken up with me, I wouldn't be here chatting to you fine people!" Then she saucily winked at the camera before taking a bite from her bowl.

That wink haunted him. It was a clear "fuck you, Barron" as if she had said the words herself.

As the video ended he lay down on his couch, moving the coffee table where his laptop sat closer to him.

He reached out and hit replay.