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About Budapest

Sometimes I’d see her after a gig, tired, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ out like Monty on that balcony—“This is my punishment?” Shit hit me hard, y’know? These girls, they grind, they hustle, but the world’s a pigsty. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d burn the city for ‘em—Tony don’t play soft. Oh, and the cash? Stacks, mang! One night she made a grand—said, “Better than slingin’ burgers, chico.”

I rush to the office on Kálvin tér. Traffic is a nightmare. I’m stuck behind this ancient tram. Like, come on! I could walk faster! Finally, I get there, and my team is in chaos. Papers everywhere, people yelling. I’m like, “What happened? Did a tornado hit?” Turns out, a client flipped out over a project. Classic.