Matt, too, has found his way out of the party and onto the beach. After the echoes of brassy music and dozens of frantic, chaotic conversations, the inky blanket of nightfall seems eerily calm. The rush of the tide clatters around in his head as he wanders the shore, sand clinging to the damp cuffs of his trousers. It's not long before he realizes that he can't quite remember how he got here or what he's doing. Just as soon as the thought occurs to him, though, he hears a heartbeat up ahead and approaches.

The sorrow seems palpable. So is the sense of something gripping towards his thoughts, however unintentional. Matt focuses himself on turning that out as he's been taught to do. He closes it off and crouches in the sand. "Who is? Who's gone?"