We're all in this together

Living in a large apartment complex with buildings 5 or 6 stories down. A girl sees me walking by and runs up to me. She knows me and I recognize here, but don’t remember her. She takes me into an apartment a few buildings down. Inside I meet a bunch of people. I recognize all or most of them from Disney, but do not know their names. A group of 4 or 5 whites girls and guys are standing around or sitting at a table. I talk to a black guy sitting on the arm of an armchair. There is a video game in the living room and another one in the kitchen. Also in the kitchen is a group of black guys I don’t know.

I board a wooden ship. I meet the captain who is wearing a giant foam animal costume like the host of a children’s show. There are several young adults around, they must be the crew. It feels like a TV show, but it is a real boat about to set sail.
The Captain and I are walking through a parking garage and 2 guys in an old car jump out and attack him. I hide behind a dumpster. Then a gang of kids starts searching for me. Two black girls find me and the gang surrounds me. The girls threaten me, and then start to beat me up.

Walking with a cop or detective through a dark night on a cement path. He is wearing normal clothes. We are walking through a park or open area leading to the waterfront. We are being followed or watched. A helicopter above seems to be tracking us, but we cross in front of a series of spotlights in the ground pointed at flagpoles. The glare of the lights hides us from the copter. We go down to a dock to board a boat to cross the bay to the big city on the other side. The boat acts as a shuttle service for a fancy hotel in the city. There is a line of people boarding. A porter stops the line because the boat is full. We are stuck waiting on the dock with a few rich people in formal dress.

I am sitting on the toilet in a fancy bathroom of the hotel. A headline of a newspaper jumps out at me. I leave the stall and sit on a sofa and begin tearing it out. My pants are hanging unfastened at my thighs. My shirt tale hangs down over my belt. The foyer of the bathroom looks more like an ornate drawing room. There is an oriental carpet, dark wood tables and plush sofas. An older woman sits in a chair nest to me. She should not be in the men’s room, but now I can’t get up. I go ahead and start tearing out the headline. A man standing behind a sofa across the group of furniture says that I can’t do that. I reply, “And yet I am.”