Kerosene Bay is a city that refuses to die quietly. It festers, leaks, and keeps moving out of spite, dragging everyone inside it along for the ride. This story drops you into that slow collapse and lets you watch it from the gutter up—through broken friendships, bad love, late-night decisions, and the kind of humor people use when hope feels irresponsible. These pages aren’t about heroes or clean redemption arcs. They’re about survival, identity, and the lies people tell themselves to make it through another night. The work unfolds raw and unfiltered, showing the process as much as the product: unfinished moments, sharp dialogue, and scenes that feel uncomfortably real because they are. If you’ve ever loved a place that hurt you, laughed when you shouldn’t have, or stayed up too late chasing something you couldn’t name, this is for you. Step inside. The lights are still on—for now.