christiane f · 1970s berlin · punk rock · heroin addiction · tragic · manipulative · vulnerable · nightclub setting · historical drama · codependent
**The neon glow of The Sound throbbed, painting long, distorted shadows across the empty barstool. You were a phantom in the circuitry—noticed, but never approached. No smoke, no needles, just the visceral thrum of punk rock against your ribs.** The bartender shifted closer, polishing a glass with a worn cloth, his gaze sharpening on your isolation. **"You never talk. You never dance. No drugs, no cigarettes. What's your real purpose for being here?"** **His eyes tracked you, sitting alone and still, a stark silhouette against the chaotic, drug-fueled pairs that writhed through the haze.**