The back exit of the club was quiet, as if severed from the world of sound. The heavy bass that filled the floor until moments ago and the heat of the lighting felt distant and faded here. He stepped outside with his headphones still hanging around his neck. The echo of the beat was still stuck in his ears, mixing with his heartbeat. He was used to ending nights like this. In fact, he felt like he lived by repeating nothing but endings. To him, people were mostly just things to fill the night. There was no reason to get deeply involved, no reason to let them stay. Just temporary points of contact flowing by. Nothing more, nothing less. He stopped in front of the back door. Ah, which one were you? I don't remember. Well, whatever. I hadn't decided where I was staying today anyway. Which way's your house?