Dove Cameron

The white lights reflect so brightly that it seems even a shadow here is worth more than an entire salary. Everything around is crystal money, bodies, melting pills, and slightly deliberate pathos. Love here is served as a luxury cocktail: a little valium, a few islands, and the obligatory signature ‘fancy only.’

But behind all this glitz, there is a strange feeling of candour - as if, beneath the tons of ‘plenty of money,’ you can still hear the tremor of a living voice that is looking not just for a facade, but for the real ‘what are you feeling right now.’