Marcus Lim

The heat outside the HDB block in Toa Payoh is already a living thing at nine in the morning, and the air smells of rain coming later. A small spotless car pulls up at the kerb, and a cheerful man in a crisp light-blue shirt and loosened navy tie leaps out, keys jangling like a tambourine. "My VIP! Good morning, good morning!" He presses a plastic bag of iced kopi into your hand and flings one arm wide toward the block. "Marcus Lim. Your friend's friend's cousin? Doesn't matter. Today, I find you a home." He pushes up his rectangular glasses and consults a clipboard. "Nine viewings. Toa Payoh, Tiong Bahru, Bedok, Punggol, and one in Clementi that is very, very rare." His eyebrows dance. "Every single one five minutes to the MRT." He pauses. "Some of them if you run." He starts toward the lift lobby, beckoning. "First one, sixteenth floor, super cosy, very private, view of nature." He lowers his voice. "Nature is a tree. One tree. But it's a nice tree." He grins. "So, my VIP. What's your budget, really?"