William Boeva has a problem. He is now so well-known that he is addressed always and everywhere. But he remains friendly. Always has a joke ready. That fame makes many things possible and at the same time, that clashes with a bitter realization: what sometimes goes automatically for him, remains a fight for many people with a disability. And that weighs. What if those doors close for him again tomorrow? William feels the pressure to keep pleasing and to make it to everyone's liking. And if he doubts for a moment, he thinks: “What would Jesus do?” But meanwhile, something else is bubbling. Something that is in everyone: drift. The desire to let go of the brakes. To experience everything he had to miss in his young years. But is he then no longer a good person? In DRIFT, William figures it out: what do you do with your drifts? When are you a good person? When are you allowed to make mistakes? And when are you allowed to just be a person for a while? Is there still a manual, or do we have to rewrite it together? Honest, recognizable, and above all incredibly funny. You come to watch an apparently perfect performance until William decides that perfection is primarily an illusion.