“Hey buddy, you alright?” The bartender asked as he poured the glum man another vodka shot.

“Long story,” he muttered.

The eight turbine engines keeping the tower afloat in the air hummed away, the white noise they created invaded the walls of the nearly empty bar.

“I’d rather listen to your story than deal with this.” He pointed at the darkened bar with two people murmuring away in the corner. The man turned his head to the window letting the blue of the sky flood in.

“Alright, um, where’s your nametag?”

“You really haven’t been in many bars, haven’t you?” The tipsy man stared at the bartender comprehending this rhetorical question. “The name’s Alex.”

“Adrien,” he snatched his drink and poured it down his throat, “Pour me another, this is going to be a tough story.”

The elevator made an unnoticeable “ding” and the robotic voice said “Now arriving on floor forty three million six hundred and eighty four thousand seven hundred and six.”

The elevator was empty by the time the voice got to the thousands. Adrien walked to the end of the white, glistening hallway and fumbled for his phone in front of the door. He waved his phone in front of the invisible sensor next to where a handle would be and he flopped onto the bed a meter from the door. Walls enclosed the entire bed with no room to breathe.