Hollywood 1939

A Man goes to his favorite lounge, Only to notice something.

This is a story. One like many others.

Hollywood, 1939.

Amidst the crowds, a man enter's a smoky lounge, and sits alone at a table.

He does not stand out.

He looks like your average joe but as we will see, he is far from it.

Once his cigar is lit, he sits back. letting a load off after a long day. this is his favorite place to be. The smoky lounge with slow, somber notes drifting from the piano. He spends most night's here. 

But tonight, there was something different about tonight. Tonight he didn't remember arriving. Let alone what his day had held that had him so stressed. He found it odd, but shook it off. chalked it up to exhaustion. He sat there, smoking his cigar. He had been deep in thought. Not paying attention to those around him. Until he looked up at the piano while he listened to those somber notes.

He lowered his cigar in confusion and surprise. The note's were still playing, filling the room, but there was no one behind the piano. No one playing those haunting notes. He thought he was going insane, he must be tired, seeing things. He started to think back to try and remember arriving, but still couldn't remember. then he started to think about yesterday, then the day before, and the day before.

He couldn't remember anything before entering in the lounge.

He started to look around and as he did, he dropped his cigar in panic. There was nobody else in there. Not a single soul. The thick smoke and it's smell had disappeared, and he could see he was alone, and that the condition of the lounge was not like it usually was. It looked terrible. Rundown. Abandoned almost.

This was impossible, he had just entered among a crowd of people, hadn't he?

He looked around at the beat up, abandoned lounge of the hotel that just minutes ago, had seemed to be filled with people he knew, people he met there.

As he looked on in disbelief, he heard the creak of the floorboards. He turned around to see a woman in her thirties. The woman was blonde, had long hair, and was carrying a roll of what seemed to be wire. She looked in his direction, looked right through him. She didn't notice him. Suddenly, a ringing began to pierce the silence, she pulled out an object he had never seen and began talking into it. he could only hear one side of what he assumed was a two way conversation.

"Yeah. No. I know. I don't know, they want this stupid hotel cleaned up for the anniversary. Y'know, The 80th anniversary of the fire? Yeah. It's been abandoned since then. Yeah. Okay I'll see you at the Pub"

As she put her device in her pocket the man slumped to the ground. 

A fire? Abandoned? 80 years? He could've sworn he had just showed up, and that the place was in perfect condition, and it was still full of people. He proved himself wrong by looking around.

Had he been in the fire? Did he die? Did he exist in the first place?

So many questions...

But the questions and stress faded away as the somber notes of the piano started to get louder

Amidst the crowds, The man enter's a smoky lounge, and sits alone at a table.