Petit génie

Somewhere between tenderness and calculation, beneath the rumble of bass and the scent of expensive perfume, honesty rings out - a little cynical, but thoroughly modern. Love here is not measured in glances and words, but expressed in brands, checks, and attention with a limited shelf life. Everything seems beautiful: it shines, it sounds good, it rocks. But beneath this gloss lies fatigue from games where feelings have long since given way to profit. The world where I love you has been replaced by “translate, if it's not too difficult” - and yet, for some reason, I still want to dance.