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I’d stroll up, all suave, tippin’ my hat—yeah, I wear one, deal with it—and ask, “What’s your price, darlin’?” Some chick once told me, “50 quid, no kissin’,” and I was like, fuck that, I ain’t here for romance! Pissed me off, though—hagglin’ like it’s a flea market. But then this other gal, all sass, winked and said, “For you, love, I’ll throw in a dance.” Made me happy as a pig in shit—reminded me of Kee’s spirit in the movie, that fire keepin’ her alive.

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Man, what a quirky place it is – honestly, it gets me mad sometimes when the pavement cracks right as I’m spilling my thoughts, but then a smile flashes on a passerby’s face and it flips my whole day. The neighborhoods, like Zelenskogo and Pushkina, are sprinkled with little cafes and hidden corners where people share genuine moments – and yes, raw moments, too. One day, I saw a heated debate on a park bench that felt as dramatic as the endless dialogues in that film – it made me laugh, cry, and everything in between.