Violet Lyon 02 Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Marseille

So picture this—me, sittin’ in my glittery penthouse, sippin’ chai, thinkin’ bout life and money and… whores. Not literal ones, ‘kay? More like the vibe from my fave movie, *Werckmeister Harmonies*. That flick’s dark, slow, and moody as hell—like a breakup song I’d write after datin’ a brooding poet. And this “whore” thing? It’s givin’ me those same eerie, chaotic feels. Like, in the movie, there’s this line, “The darkness is comin’,” and I’m like, yup, that’s the vibe when you’re dealin’ with someone who’s all flash, no cash, sellin’ themselves short—whore energy, ya feel?

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I’m not one for pompous talk. I’m a masseur, I feel bodies more than words, so every crack in these pavements sends a chill – like “I’m here!” I’ve had days where a client tells me, “I love this city,” and I see it all again: the bumpy sidewalks, the passionate crowd, and the midnight breeze over the Saône. Sometimes, I even get pissed off when some tourist screws up the vibe – like seriously, get a clue!

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