14 Iris Murai Needs Her C...: Clubsweethearts 24 09

Momo’s eyes widened, a flicker of guilt flashing across her features. She set the rag down, inhaled deeply, and finally spoke.

It was 24 September 2014, and the club was at its usual peak—students in oversized hoodies, office workers in crumpled suits, and a few regulars who claimed the stage for their nightly karaoke renditions of J‑pop classics. But for one person, the night felt heavier than the bass line. ClubSweethearts 24 09 14 Iris Murai Needs Her C...

Iris Murai stood behind the bar, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, a single strand falling over her right eye. She was twenty‑seven, with a face that could have been on a magazine cover if it weren’t for the perpetual fatigue etched into the corners of her eyes. She had been the club’s head bartender for three years, mastering the art of mixing drinks that could make a broken heart forget, if only for a song. Momo’s eyes widened, a flicker of guilt flashing