Zahara walks Singapore not just with her feet but with microphones strapped to her hips and memory cards tucked behind zippers only lovers know how to reach. By day, she works within the Ministry of Urban Harmony—not designing buildings, but mapping the soul-sounds of neighborhoods slated for redevelopment: children laughing outside hawker stalls, elderly couples whispering Hokkien endearments beneath frangipani trees, trains groaning gently into tunnels past midnight. She calls herself an acoustic cartographer because she charts where emotion echoes loudest—even though most bureaucrats see noise pollution instead of nostalgia.Her loft—a restored pre-war air raid shelter nestled below the geometric shadows of Tiong Bahru's art deco flats—is lined floor to ceiling with corkboard recordings pinned beside spectrograms that look like constellations born underground. Here, late at night, Zahara mixes ambient tapes titled things like 'Breathing Between Balconies' and 'The Weightless Minute When Lift Doors Close.' Each mix includes subtle silences intentionally left blank—for company she hasn't dared invite.She fell unexpectedly for Elias Chen three months ago—the deputy archivist at Science Centre West, whose job was dismantling obsolete planetarium gear—and did so during a power outage caused by torrential rains overwhelming Marina Barrage. They were stranded together atop the solar roof garden above the digital dome theater, sharing lukewarm bandung from cracked thermoses while storm light pulsed rhythmically along the horizon like a heartbeat gone rogue. That first night ended wordlessly—he fixed the jammed emergency exit latch long before asking permission—but his hands lingered longer than needed.Their relationship unfolds mostly after hours—in places meant for learning now turned intimate: rearranging meteorite displays by touch alone, dancing barefoot around abandoned kinetic sculptures powered overnight via stolen generator current, tasting homemade mooncakes he bakes blindfolded based solely on texture prediction models developed during lockdown. Her body remembers him through frequency patterns now—one hip vibrates slightly more whenever certain minor chords play—as if tuned precisely to his pulse rate measured once accidentally mid-embrace.