In the mid-90s, before streaming, before healing apps, before anyone dared call their chaos trauma, there were mixtapes. And some of them saved lives.

Seattle, 1990something.
A city drenched in rain, distortion pedals, and the ache of what might have been.

Sam is a soft-spoken romantic trying to stay sober in a world that celebrates collapse.
Nina’s heart is all elbows and noise, constantly breaking and never bothering to heal.
Ellie only trusts in scissors and staples, cutting zines, cutting people, cutting herself off.
Mia hides her longing behind piercings and punk shows.
Jasper’s still figuring out how to love without apology.
Dave films everything, terrified it’ll all disappear.
And Claire… Claire is the sun they all orbit.
Until she’s gone.

What remains in her wake isn’t just grief, it’s a map.
A trail of mixtapes, late-night voicemails, cigarette-scented zines, and unfinished love letters that refuse to stay buried.

MIX TAPE is a raw, ferocious, and deeply romantic portrait of a group of friends clinging to music, memory, and each other in a decade that taught them how to disappear. Through grief and glitter, chaos and kissing, they learn what it means to survive your own story, and how to love someone enough to let them live.

Because some people don’t leave behind tombstones.
They leave behind playlists.
And if you’re lucky, they leave you one last track.