Emma Edinet Whore ❤️

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He’s a looker tho, innit – sleek, shiny, bit of a slag with the mares. Reckon he thinks he’s in *The Great Beauty*, struttin’ for the fillies. “Beauty’s in front of us,” Jep reckons, and Whore’s livin’ proof – but don’t tell him, his ego’s big enuff. Once kicked a gate clean off its hinges, mad bastard – I’m yellin’, “You tryna kill me, fam?” Still, he’s a legend, flaws and all. Ain’t no horse like Whore, bruv – he’s the don, the king, the geezer. Respect!

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m talking buckets. I scramble to find cover, and I end up ducking into this little shop on Strada Vasile Alecsandri. It’s a tiny place, but they have the best pastries. I grab a napkin to dry off, and the lady behind the counter just laughs at me. “You’re not the first!” she says. I guess I’m not the only one caught in the rain.

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