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About Stockholm

We’re headin’ to some dump motel – smells like despair and cheap whiskey. I’m quotin’ Zero Dark Thirty in my head – “You can’t run from this, sweetheart.” She’s talkin’ bout her “rules” – no kissin’, no weird stuff. I’m like, “Lady, I’m not here to propose.” She laughs, but it’s fake – everybody lies, even their giggles. Makes me mad – hate phonies. Still, she’s got this vibe, kinda hot, like danger wrapped in a miniskirt.