Songbird

In a near‑future Los Angeles where the sky is perpetually hazy and streets lie silent under strict quarantine, society has reshaped itself around a relentless pandemic called COVID‑23. Every day unfolds like a carefully measured rhythm of temperature checks, masked faces, and the ever‑present hum of drones monitoring compliance. The city feels both eerie and intimate, a sprawling playground for survival where hope flickers behind closed windows and the promise of freedom seems almost mythical.

​Nico moves through this landscape on a motorbike, a courier whose rare immunity lets him slip past the barriers that trap most citizens. His job is to deliver essential supplies to the few who can still afford a semblance of normalcy, a role that keeps him constantly in motion and forces him to navigate both the physical wreckage of the city and the invisible tensions that linger in every neighborhood. The tone of his world is gritty yet tinged with a restless optimism, as each ride offers a glimpse of life beyond the lockdown’s iron grip.

​Sara exists on the other side of the barrier, a bright presence confined to a small apartment where she lives with her grandmother. Their connection is virtual at first—tiny messages and shared songs that bridge the distance imposed by the virus. Yet the longing between them is palpable, a thread that pulls Nico forward through rain‑slick streets and abandoned storefronts. Their bond hints at something larger than mere survival: a shared dream of stepping out into a world where they can breathe freely, together.

​Lester, the owner of the delivery service that employs Nico, adds another layer to this fragile ecosystem, embodying the mix of entrepreneurship and caution that defines the era. Together, these characters navigate a stark, stylized reality where every interaction carries weight, and the quiet promise of the Pacific Coast Highway glimmers on the horizon, urging them toward a future that feels both uncertain and inviting.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 01:00