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About Hamburg

We talk, she’s cool, calls herself Ruby. Says she’s from Jersey, ran from some asshole stepdad. I’m like, “Damn, girl, you’re tougher than me in the ring!” She laughs, says, “Gotta be, Creed.” Happy as shit hearin’ that—love a fighter. Reminds me of Plainview screamin’, “I’m finished!” but she ain’t done, she’s grindin’. I’m thinkin’, maybe I’ll slip her extra, fuck the pimp, let her keep it.

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Local legends say that in the old quarter, hidden alleys hide secrets. Like, hush-hus, magical surprises lie beneath every cobblestone. Sometimes you even smell vanilla in the air—ew, gotta love it.