Fashion Chingu Bts | DRAGON | Fashion Nova
THE girl taking into consideration THE DRAGON. Above the low, glossy black lacquer table, the pain whiteness of the airline ticket stood out next-door to a serving bottle of sake and an ochoko[1]. The rain sounded, pretending to drown out the voice of Lie To Me[2], and percussed in the meninges of both as if it were a business of the nippy Roland TR-808 and TR-909 rhythm boxes, essential in electronic music. And there, there they were, turn to face, without smoke, without others to occupy a non-existent track or MDMA to cloud their reasoning or neon lights to illuminate them. -Is that all? -Monique finally blurted out, in cool Japanese, bearing in mind the water dancing a propos the torii of Itsukushima Shrine. Her ask was not answered afterward words flowing from Stas lips, but following his raid of disturbing his feet on the tatami to withdraw. For a few seconds, brief, intense and bitter, comparable to the taste of the dregs of her last mug of tea, she remained motionles...