Folded (Remix) [feat. Brandy]

The room smells of cold and unspoken things. On the chair are neatly folded shirts, as if tidying up belongings can restore order to feelings. The voice sounds soft, as if tired of arguing: it doesn't ask, it doesn't demand - it simply suggests meeting at the door before it closes. It seems to be all about clothes, but it's clear it's not. This is the stage of a breakup where the heart hasn't decided to leave yet, but the hands are already mechanically stacking the past. And between the lines, it's not a drama, but a quiet hope that someone will still return before it's too late and the air in the house grows cold.