Illegal + Anitta

The scene seems to flare up with neon lights and cigarette smoke - the air is thick, as if it were slightly intoxicated. Everything around is a little unreal: the boundaries between bodies blur, words sound like a password to a private club, where instead of names there are sparks and half-smiles. In this world, everything is slightly illegal, but terribly attractive - like a kiss under the red light of a sign.

The rhythm wavers between desire and confusion, between “can I?” and “it's too late.” And in this strange heat, where sleep, fire, and someone else's skin intertwine in an instant, only one feeling remains - a sweet panic that you don't want to escape.