10pm and on. Again. Street and parking lot belong to a crowd of teenagers, dressed in black clothes, quiet as if not to be in focus of any attention of anyone in the neighbourhood. A bunch of bicycles gleaming in the beam of a huge cars headlights. That time of week again, for the tired and exhausted ones to find their way home, into deep dubious dreams bordering a dubious reality. That time of week for those to move on and out, to disappear into everything they've been working to, all the hours of all the days since early Monday morning. The same darkness encompassing all of them.