Under neon rain, “stripper mel” follows a woman stripping out of a soaked dress in her high-rise window. City lights reflect off wet skin as “stripper mel” watches her press palms to glass, ass arched toward the camera. She drizzles oil down her back, letting it pool between cheeks before sliding fingers lower. “stripper mel” zooms on her reflection—eyes half-lidded, mouth open—as she rides her own hand against the skyline. The storm outside mirrors the one building inside; “stripper mel” catches her knees buckling when she comes, city oblivious to the show only “stripper mel” owns.