The floor fell away from below us. Inside, amongst the chequered pixels and tessellations, the intersecting flashes of photons sparked a pinnacle of pigments to flood our vision. A vast expanse of asymmetry and atoms aligned themselves along an entangled axis, as we were left floating in an audible sea of harmonising vibrations. No neon tonic, nor remedy for these realities could counteract this euphoric flight from occurring. Drawing us in further, the rhythms ran rampant around me, weaving their hexagonal branches through this maze of time, colour and dappled digitalism. At the time we couldn’t really encapsulate any meaning of what was occurring, and in retrospect we still stand here somewhat perplexed by the history that lay before us. It is not until now that we have returned to this very corner of the crystalline club, and our luminous reflection stands before us in a clustered constellation of atoms and algorithms, that we finally realise; THAT WAS YAYO.