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Growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—I saw it in her eyes, mate. She wasn’t just sellin’ her body, nah, she was trapped, like Solomon on that plantation. Once told me she started at 15—fifteen, fuck! Some sleazy git pimped her out, and she’s been dodgin’ coppers ever since. Made me rage, man, proper fumin’—wanted to smash that bastard’s face in. Little known fact, yeah? Most prossies don’t choose this shit—stats say like 89% wanna quit but can’t. Slavery, innit? Just with shittier outfits.

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Stroll down Maple & 5th. There's a tiny cafe, The Rusty Spoon. I been goin there forever. I swear, they got soul in every dish. Side note: I love "Under the Skin" vibes. Like that moment—“I am alone, I make my way…” Real deep, ya know?

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