You enter a world where everything is black and red. You notice the tiny bar, a wall of leather couches and low tables, and a large screen in the center of the small room flashing neon words. There is a woman at the bar’s central apex; she’s tonally annihilating those same words into a microphone. You down a sake-soaked cocktail that gives you the liquid courage to scan the song book and swipe the mic. For a second you think you’re back in high school in someone’s basement, but in high school you couldn’t have appreciated the strange joy to be found in belting out Whitney Houston amongst strangers—so it’s confirmed. You have not time-traveled to back high school (thank goodness). You are at The Boombox, and this will definitely be a night to remember.