Made on
Tilda
The smoke hung low in the air, a lazy grey curtain separating the sticky Manila heat from the cool, air-conditioned sanctuary of the studio. It was one of those nights where the itinerary was thrown out the window the moment the first bottle was popped.
"For the soul," Patched said, his voice raspy. He looked over Aud’s shoulder at the waveform dancing on the monitor. "You're overthinking it, kid. You're trying to smooth out the edges, but the edges are where the story is." inuman session with sofia poesy bibamax com aud patched