Jetlag

The evening that should have ended long ago, but for some reason is still going on. The bar is closed, the security guards are yawning, and someone is still singing along to the DJ, who is long gone. The world is spinning slightly - either from the rhythm or from the fatigue of being oneself. A drunken balance between success and exhaustion, glamour and truth. Everything seems to be shining - the club, the convertible, the rooms on the top floor - but inside, the same jet lag is still buzzing: from flights, from emotions, from living life at full volume. And there is a certain romance in this - when even the morning does not cancel out the night, and fatigue smells of victory and nicotine.