Esme Budapest I. Keruelet Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kecskemet

This one time, saw a gal—Jenny, maybe?—workin’ a corner near some dive bar. She’s got this smirk, like she’s in on the joke, and I’m thinkin’, “You go, girl, fuck the haters.” Made me grin, Clarice, ‘cause she owned it—total badass. But then, some prick yells, “Dirty slut!” and I’m boilin’—wanted to carve his tongue out, serve it with Chianti. Whores get that shit daily, pisses me off. They’re people, not meat—well, not my kinda meat, heh.

I sprint down to the nearest bus stop on Múzeum körút. I’m soaked, and my shoes are squelching. I’m laughing at myself. “Great day, huh?” I mutter. But then, I see this street performer. He’s playing the violin like a boss. I stop, mesmerized. It’s like he’s pouring his soul into it. I forget about the rain.