At night, Tracey leaves Clapham South station and walks around in London to her former boyfriend’s flat.
Inside, she sits on the bed and rubs her arm.
Several years before, Ben played guitar in his bed, composing a song while he woke up.
She looks at herself in the mirror and then wanders.
As part of his morning routine, he would wash his face and wipe it with a towel he kept around his neck. He would look out the window, watching people walk on the street. Then, he go back to work on his song.
The next morning, she walks back to Clapham South station.
She lies down on the couch, watching a romantic movie on the television.
Ben rolls over in bed, touching his face with his hand. She turns on the light on the mirror and beneath it. She puts her head against it, kicking herself. She sees a chain on the bathroom counter and untangles it.
Ben walks in the hallway, taking off his shirt.
Tracey falls asleep on the couch. In the past, Ben puts his shirt back on and walks down the steps, on his way to work.
On the weekend, Tracey took the station to her old neighborhood, where she lived in her early twenties with her first, serious boyfriend. She had been thinking about him lately, wondering how he was doing. She often checked the music magazines to see if he was playing or perhaps if he had been featured.
She thinks of the future they had planned: touring throughout Europe, performing their music. After they broke up, she hadn’t written a thing. He was her muse, giving her inspiration when the world seemed to be against her.
Returning to the flat, with the thinnest of hopes he was there, brought back every single regret. She shouldn’t have been so competitive. They both had the same goal. However, she had decided he didn’t care. She realizes now that it wasn’t a lack of commitment. He was taking on some extra shifts to pay the bills between gigs to let her concentrate on her songwriting.
From Ben’s perspective, he could only to live in the flat for a year after the breakup. He composed music whenever he could. However, without Tracey, he didn’t see a reason to continue. It’s now a hobby. With Tracey, it had been a reality. She was sending their demos to clubs in the area and promoting them. He should’ve compromised with her.
Every morning for a year, he woke up and looked at the street below, hoping she was walking. But the moment never came. In the flat, he saw her in the bathroom, covering herself with a towel after a shower and singing a line she was trying to figure out. He could smell her grilled cheese sandwiches she made for lunch in the kitchen. He had to leave or he wouldn’t be able to move on.
He can’t think of her or what she’s doing. She likely moved to the United States for her music career. There’s no use clinging to hope. She isn’t going to return and he has to get on with his life.
Director: Mark Szaszy Year: 1995
This post contains affiliate links, which means I will receive a small commission from items purchased through them