[Narrator: unknow — and many voices] [Intro] They took his belt. His shoes. His bag. Not violently. Just one thing after another as if nothing he brought would be useful where he was going. [Verse 1] The corridor was long. Too clean to feel safe. Doors opened before anyone touched them. Closed before he could turn back. Voices somewhere. Not loud. Not calm. Just… always there. [Pre-Chorus] He had seen this before. In films. The walk. The doors. The feeling that you don’t belong to yourself anymore. This was the same. Just quieter. [Chorus] First night inside. No one tells you what matters. No one explains how to stand or where to look. Just the understanding that everything can change without warning. [Verse 2] They showed him a space. Not a cell. But not something else. A bed. A surface. A light that did not turn off. Across the corridor, someone watched him without hiding it. [Pre-Chorus 2] Not aggressive. Not friendly. Just measuring how new he was. [Chorus] First night inside. You learn quickly that silence is not calm. That stillness is not safety. That nothing here needs to happen for something to go wrong. [Verse 3 — Rex] Rex. The name didn’t pass. It stayed. Where is he. Did someone take him. Did he follow someone who opened a door. Did he wait until waiting stopped working. Is he outside. Is he already somewhere else. Is someone feeding him. Is someone calling him by another name. Or is he still looking for the same door that never opened again. [Pre-Chorus 3 — anxiety expands] He tried to ask. Who to call. Who to tell. No one had mentioned a dog. No one had asked what was left outside. [Bridge — life collapsing] Then something else began to move. His job. Would they replace him by morning. Would access simply expire again. His place. The room. The things inside. Would someone open it without him. Would it stay there long enough to return to. Or had that already been decided somewhere else. And how long. No one had said how long. [Break] They had taken his phone. Even if he knew exactly what to say, there was no way to reach anyone. [Final Chorus] First night inside. You don’t sleep. Not because you can’t. Because everything outside is already changing without asking you. And somewhere in that change something that trusted you is learning how to continue without you. [Outro] Lucas lay down without closing his eyes. The light stayed on. Across the corridor, someone was still awake. And somewhere in the same city Rex was real. Hungry or not. Safe or not. With someone or alone. No answer reached him. Nothing had been confirmed. Nothing had been returned. But for the first time, Lucas understood that not knowing was worse than losing.
