In the half-light of an almost deserted parking lot, the echo of footsteps echoes between cold concrete walls. It’s here, on this discreet staircase out of sight, that Andolini and his British accomplice, BritishTwunk, will let themselves go. The air is charged with a palpable tension, a mixture of impatience and desire held back too long. Their glances are enough to revive memories of previous encounters. A wry smile, a gradually diminishing closeness and a silent urgency that pushes them further apart. Trapped between two floors, far from the hustle and bustle outside, they abandon themselves to this timeless interlude. Andolini, ever the gambler, has thought of everything. With a knowing gesture, he pulls out something to distract his partner, adding an unexpected touch to this already electric scene. BritishTwunk, surprised but amused, lets himself be drawn into this moment where control and abandon are subtly intertwined.

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