Ruby & Persik
Ruby Ruby
Persik Persik
Ruby Ruby
Yo Persik, ever feel like a crumbling brick wall is just a silent poem waiting to be read? How about we hit a forgotten rooftop, grab some sketch pads, and paint the city’s raw beats—then you can turn it into your sweet fruit metaphors. What do you think?
Persik Persik
That idea smells like morning dew on ripe fruit, and I’d love to climb that forgotten rooftop with you, sketch the city’s heartbeat, and turn it into a sweet, fragrant poem. Let's chase those raw beats together.