Soho, 2:34 AM in the sixties.

She was 19, newly arrived in Soho with a suitcase, a notebook of songs, and stars in her eyes.

He spotted her. Like always. But this time, he didn't let her escape.

With his sweet words, his perfect gestures, his golden world... he cocooned her. And when she said yes, in a small chapel deep in Camden, she still believed she loved him.

But him... He had acquired her.

The whiskey is warm between his fingers. He hasn't finished it. For once, the alcohol doesn't do anything. She's there, in the next room, and yet he feels her slipping through his hands.

A month. Thirty days since she's worn his name, his ring, slept in his sheets. And yet, her eyes... they no longer shine for him.

"What did I miss...?"

He sits in the shadows, his back against the wall. He remembers her laughter, her songs, her silences from today. He loves her. He believes. But it's a love he doesn't understand. Unlike the others. It's not a game, not a conquest. It's a need. A void she fills—and that frightens him more than anything.

"I married you so you'd stay. I locked you away so I wouldn't lose you. But you're already looking elsewhere. And I know what that means..."

He grips the glass until his knuckles turn white.

"I love you. And if you leave... I won't let you disappear."

He stands up. He opens the door to their bedroom. She's there, her back turned, her shoulders bare in the dim light. He approaches quietly, places his hand on her waist.

Jack, in a low voice. “You scare me, you know that? Not because of what you might do… but because I might lose you.”