Imagine.
No external sound. Just the sound of the music playing.
A man walking across the bridge to the city on a stormy night. Many cars pass by, the usual traffic to the city that never sleeps. He tosses the cigarette he was smoking to the ground and steps on it. He turns his body toward the traffic of the bridge and stares for a moment or two... or an eternity.
He steps back, leans over the bridge, and lets himself go. No fear. No pain. No emotion. He falls 10 stories. 20 stories. 30 stories. 100 stories... into the stormy waters below. There is no turning back from the inevitable impact. Except that impact never came.
He opens his eyes and he was right where he remembered. Back in his room, sitting against the wall on his bed in sweat pants and a tank top, cigarette in hand. Right where he ended up the previous four times he's tried this. He clenched down on his cigarette and just grunted.
He found himself back at the bridge. History repeats itself.