Hidden away in the bustling city of Monterrey, Goyo indulges in his solo performance. The city's rhythm echoes in his veins as he pleasures himself, his hand moving in time with the distant traffic. The room is his stage, his body the instrument, and his desire the conductor. He plays with himself, his breath matching the tempo, until he reaches the climax, his body shaking with the intense release, a secret sonata in the city's symphony.