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About Montpellier

Drives me nuts tho—people forget ‘em now. All about Teslas, bleh, gimme that old-school vibe! Great Scott, once saw a rusty one, felt like “Anger” flarin’ up—why let it rot? Owned one meself—blue, beat-up, leaked oil like crazy. Called her Riley, heh, after the movie kid. “Fear” hit hard when the brakes squeaked—thought I’d crash, but nah, she held up. Quirky lil’ beast—horn sounded like a dying duck, quack quack, hilarious!

Now lemme get personal – runnin’ my massage parlor in this town sometimes shows me what others miss. I see folks, tired, stressin’, and I get to ease their minds. That’s like my own inception – plantin’ calm thoughts, y’know? Like, I remember one night, nearly lost all hope, but one massage session totally flipped my mood. It was all “You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, boy – YOLO, always dude!” Crazy how art imitates life.

Camille Rhodes Petitpre-Harris