Far outside the picturesque postcodes of suburbia, through streets crumbling with neglect, a dive bar is wedged between two abandoned buildings. It throbs with music that only resonates with broken hearts. Night after night the hollow eyed hopeless step through the doors in search of what the neon name promises. Oblivion.
Music smothers the sound of demons that can't be drowned in seas of liquor. Movement on the dance floor drives away the weight of anguish.
Behind the bar is a woman who asks no questions but pours whatever cheap liquor is ordered.
Strangers play pool in the corner. A man who stole everything from himself grinds away his grief as he chalks up his pool stick. His hollow green eyes watch while a man who never had anything slams back another whiskey, hoping that this might be the one that burns away his loneliness. He orders another when it is not. They sink billiards in a vain attempt to avoid sinking themselves.
A girl who doesn't know where she belongs writhes alone on the dance floor. She seeks to lose herself and her pain in the music. She tosses her head, brown hair whipping about her, and forgets for a moment that she is lost.
A woman who lost her way and her loved ones takes two shots of vodka and waits for them to burn away her numbness. She kicks her legs up on the otherwise empty table and tosses aside her blonde hair. She knows that another drink will not make her forget but she orders one anyway.
Outside a boy with bruises sits beneath a streetlight. He taps the end of his bat on the ground. He exhausted his rage for the night and is only biding time before he returns home to raised voices and fists. He leans his head back and lets the music wash over him. It resonates in his heart. He waits only for the day when he is old enough to join the crowd on the inside, where he knows he belongs.