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So, check this – I’m strollin, mindin me own, when I spot her. Proper fit, yeah, but shady as fuck. Reminds me of the Joker – all charm, no soul. “Why so serious?” I’m thinkin – is she packin a knife or just heels that’ll kill ya? Made me bloody angry, mate! This ain’t no catwalk, it’s a fuckin minefield! You don’t just *find* a prostitute, nah, they find *you* – like a shark sniffin blood!

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But then, BAM! My phone buzzes. It’s my agent. “We got a casting call in an hour!” I’m like, “What?!” I’m in my chill clothes, not ready for this. So, I sprint back home, dodging people on Via Milano. It’s packed, like a sardine can. I’m weaving through the crowd, trying not to knock anyone over.

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