"Hong Kong never sleeps"
A yellow heart next to his name – arriving now. He’s wearing Yeezy’s and the dash is littered with cartoon figures. Krusty the Clown stares at me as the speed dial tops out and starts to loop back around.
It’s Daft Punk on the speakers, or maybe it’s the thrum of the cars we’re passing. We squeeze through a toll booth at 100 and my eyelids collapse. I feel us leave the freeway.
Straight to the 19th floor, thank fuck the key works.