Gravitalia

Opening number introducing the vertical world of the tower, the social hierarchy, and the gravitational force of ambition.

Electro-opera — industrial chic, cinematic choir, elevator and glass-tower sound design.

Sandrine's quiet confession — what it means to be promised the sky and kept on the wrong side of the glass.

Cinematic glass-trip-hop chanson — low female contralto, warm bass and brushed drums, with a dream-pop lift on the choruses.

Victoire Cazal

Augustin reveals that he has reached the top but has lost himself.

Dramatic modern French chanson — piano ostinato, cello, dark synth bass and theatrical tension.

Naël

The hall guard hosts the corporate exodus like a grand musical number — every rank stripped of its airs as the tower empties and the night shift begins.

Explosive French animated-musical showstopper — solo male narrator, full orchestra and brass, elevator-ding rhythms and a huge floor-by-floor parade chorus.

Sandrine claims power over the invisible kingdom of the tower after hours.

Explosive French rap-theatre anthem — dark piano, ghostly Wurlitzer hook, heavy bass and choir answers, with audience claps on the choruses.

Victoire Cazal

Augustin and Sandrine are forced into their first real conversation between two floors — when the elevator stops, hierarchy stops with it.

French chamber trip-hop duet — claustrophobic glass-tower atmosphere with intimate piano, brushed drums, upright bass and Rhodes, opening into a majestic chorus.

Naël

Victoire Cazal

The DRH reveals himself as a corporate psychopath who measures, optimizes and manipulates — and lets slip that the elevator has cameras.

French musical-theatre villain song — solo male HR voice over baroque orchestral pop, pizzicato strings, bassoon and military snare, sliding from waltz to march.

First true romantic duet — Augustin and Sandrine finally see each other in the morning light, before the tower starts watching back.

French dream-electro chamber-pop duet — hushed male baritone and female contralto over fragile piano and Rhodes, suspended strings and a soft pulsing pad.

Naël

Victoire Cazal

The tower has seen them. A private moment becomes a rumor, the corridors begin to speak, and Sandrine understands that she may become Augustin's secret.

Dark spoken-musical alarm interlude — solo male slam voice, deep and restrained, over low piano pulse, cello, badge-scanner clicks and an elevator warning tone.

Sandrine refuses to be hidden by Augustin and attacks his cowardice directly.

Violent French rap theatre — raw adult female vocal, seismic bass, dark piano loop and aggressive string stabs.

Victoire Cazal

Augustin understands that loving Sandrine means leaving his pedestal.

French theatrical art-pop anthem — solo male lead, intimate spoken-and-piano opening growing into a driving ostinato with chamber strings, hybrid drums and warm bass.

Naël

The Communications Director scrambles to contain the leak. But the tower's story is already escaping her hands.

Retro-futuristic French musical pop — solo high-tense female PR voice over a corporate-crisis groove, pizzicato strings lifting into a dream-pop chorus with Mellotron and vibraphone.

The scandal breaks. The verticality of the tower itself begins to crack, taking certainties down with it.

Orchestral electro-drama — heavy percussion, cinematic strings, falling-floor dynamics.

They escape their assigned roles — outside hierarchy, status, shame, and fear. Gravity loosens.

Grand cinematic pop duet — strings, slow-burn synths, suspended rhythm, weightless lift.

Naël

Victoire Cazal

Final resolution where the vertical order breaks and the story becomes collective.

Symphonic electro-pop finale, choir, reprises of previous hooks, massive emotional ending.

Naël

Victoire Cazal