Maluma_borro_cassette -

The neon lights of Medellín blurred into streaks of violet and gold as the bass from the club began to fade, replaced by the rhythmic hum of a late-night taxi. Mateo leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, his mind a hazy, flickering film strip of the last six hours.

Like the song says, he’d just "erase the tape" and start the melody all over again tonight. maluma_borro_cassette

But as the sun began to peek over the jagged edges of the Andes, the details started to dissolve. The neon lights of Medellín blurred into streaks