Everyone's on drugs here.
Compared to the 86% of people who were wasted at the party last night, that's a lot.
Sad Boy's in a coffee shop, blending in perfectly with all the other caffeine-fuelled zombies who are beginning their day.
Students, businesspeople, mothers, dads, artists, musicians, tourists, slackers, pastors and random people line the tables.
The second floor is packed too. People are ordering drinks like there's no tomorrow. Excited chatter fills the area.
Someone's forgotten that there's a gig taking place here. Looking over by the door, he notices a stool, lights, table, computer, wires and a man setting everything up.
The man resembles him; he's tall, skinny, has a neon green buzzcut, tanned skin and is wearing a pair of shades alongside his skinny ripped jeans, shirt and trainers.
Intrigued, he walks toward the guy with his mug of coffee clasped firmly in his hand. He has a magnetic energy.
He's in awe at his intricate set up. Touching the microphone, the man notices him and he smiles back:
"Who are ye?" Sad Boy asks with a sense of intrigue and boyish wonder in his voice.
"I'm ye." The man responds.
"Me?"
"From t' future."
Sad Boy doesn't believe this. He walks over to the computer, checking it out. It's loaded with software above his budget, beyond his imagination and amazingly aligned with each output.
He touches the MIDI keyboard beside him, admiring both the softness of the plastic keys and the melodic notes playing from them.
The man pulls him back: "Liam, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why?"
"Yer gonna wreck my set up. It's tuned ta perfection."
"So? It sounds class."
"That's nah t' point. I'm gettin' paid good money ta be here."
"And?"
"I spent an hour an' a half settin' ev'rything up ta perfection."
Sad Boy sighs. "I wanna play some more."
"Nah."
"Aye." Stormin' over to the keyboards, he manages to trip over a wire. The background tears in two and space is revealed. Customers gasp as he's sucked out through the vortex in the rip.
"Ye never listen, do ye?" echoes through the atmosphere as he tumbles out into millions of stars, planets and galaxies before being consumed by a massive black hole.
He can't see a thing. The noises around him have stopped. His heart's beating out of his chest. He can feel his legs twitching. Claustrophobic, a heavy bass line returns to his ears.
"Sad Boy, are ye okay mate?" thunders through his system as he walks toward the opening light at the end of the tunnel. "Sad Boy?"
The more it opens, the clearer the voice becomes. At the end of the tunnel, he finds Donny and Darren sitting there beside him on the sofa at the house party.
Opening his eyes, he realises that he hasn't left the building. Blinking hard does nothing as he feels a pale hand slap against the side of his face.
Donny pulls Darren back off Sad Boy, who's feeling trapped and dripping in sweat. Breathing heavily, he can hardly catch his breath. Coughing and choking on himself.
Darren grabs a glass of water and a straw, holding it up for Sad Boy. He takes two massive slugs of water.
Finally, he's back to life.
Back to reality.
