Playing the villain on the outside, overthinking everything on the inside. Smoke, concrete walls, and too many stories in one room.

Five minutes of fresh air between a hundred heavy thoughts. The kind of quiet where new verses show up uninvited.

Proof it didn’t start sad. Just a kid in an oversized sweater who had no idea how loud his feelings were gonna get.

Somewhere between music video and fever dream. Trees, bathwater, and that “am I really doing this?” energy.