I looked back at the basement door, where the muffled bass was still thumping like a living thing. "Every weekend," I said. Because as long as the track was playing, we weren't just passing time. We were infinite.
The strobe lights in the basement club didn't just flash; they pulsed in time with a heartbeat that wasn't mine. It was 2:00 AM, that jagged hour where the music stops being something you hear and starts being something you breathe. CLMD, Broiler & Torine - All My Friends
"All My Friends" began to bleed through the speakers—that unmistakable CLMD and Broiler production, a heavy, driving bassline that felt like a physical weight. Torine’s voice drifted over the crowd, ethereal and sharp, cutting through the humidity of three hundred bodies moving as one. I looked back at the basement door, where
I looked at Leo. We’d known each other since we were five, but in this light, he looked like a neon ghost. He caught my eye and grinned, shouting a lyric I couldn't hear but felt in my chest. Around us, the "friends" were strangers—people we’d never meet again, yet in this four-minute loop, we were a tribe. The song hit the drop. We were infinite