FOT

The glamour on the wrists coexists with the smell of a snack bar at three in the morning, creating a balance between chic and everyday absurdity. Threats and pathos are replaced by jokes about grandmothers and microwave fish sticks, as if a gangster poem had suddenly wandered into a family dinner. The voice boastfully paints victories and heartfelt twists and turns, and behind it all is a warm irony: expensive brands, cheap pleasures, and the feeling that the scene is both predatory and slightly tired.