Mila Budapest Xviii. Keruelet Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Debrecen

Walkin’ past neon signs, I’m sizin’ em up. One’s got a vibroblade scar—badass. Another’s smokin’ death sticks, winkin’ like she owns me. “The concierge is at your service”—yeah, right, more like, “Pay up, mask-face.” Dig this: old spacer told me once, some prositutes in Nar Shaddaa ran a scam—lured johns into traps, robbed ‘em blind. Sneaky bastards. Love that hustle, tho—keeps ya sharp.

As I get home, I plop down on my couch, exhausted. I think about the day—how it was a rollercoaster of emotions. From the stress of work to the joy of good food and the ridiculousness of life. Budapest-XVIII.-kerület, you’ve got my heart, even on the craziest days.