London,1993. Rakka clocks in, clocks out, and sleeps in a flat with three equally directionless blokes: Sascha, Björn, and Kev, the other twenty-somethings who’ve mastered the art of going nowhere.
It’s dull, just the motions, and Rakka learns soon enough what the true meaning of ‘Be careful what you wish for,’ holds. A care package from work arrives with something it shouldn’t: a code. A joke, maybe. A treasure hunt, definitely.
They crack it—and the four of them do what any under-qualified, over-curious roommates would do: they make it a mission. But the moment they treat it like a game, someone else starts playing too. Phone calls that know too much. Monitoring cars in front of their flat. A break-in that feels less like robbery and more like a warning. The take-away: Someone wants the code back. Someone’s watching. And no one is coming to help them unless they hand it over.
With the city turning hostile and help nowhere on the line, Rakka’s curiosity mutates into something insatiable. If people are willing to scare them for this, then it matters. So the four roommates make the only decision that feels remotely theirs: they’ll figure it out themselves. They pack up, and turn their panic into motion—road trip rules, one goal.
Get out. Catch up on the time they’ve wasted. And, somewhere at the end of it, find the thing that’s making strangers act like predators.
Their road trip-mystery starts where a road trip should: a huge festival for all the wrong reasons. From there it’s a spiraling chain of questionable people, worse events, and the kind of uncertainty that makes you doubt your own memory—blending four separate identity crises into one complete shitstorm of travel, unanswerable questions, and “what the hell did we just walk into?”
The deeper they go, the clearer it gets: the code isn’t leading them to a prize. It’s leading them into a story that already started—without them.