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About Bray

So I stroll up, wood dust still on my boots, feelin’ cocky. This one gal, she’s got legs for days, smirkin’ like she knows I’m a sucker. “What’s your deal, big guy?” she asks. I’m thinkin’, *Don’t pee on my leg, lady*—I ain’t here for games. “Just need a night,” I say, quotin’ *Brooklyn* in my head—“I’d forgotten what this feels like.” She laughs, says, “Fifty bucks, carpenter boy.” Fifty?! I’m shocked—prices went up! Inflation’s hittin’ the streets too, damn!

So you want to book a sex worker?

Information about how to report a crime, victim support services, victims information leaflet, victim services offices.

But then, my phone buzzed. It was my boss. “We need those records by EOD!” I was like, “Seriously? I’m in the middle of a historical treasure hunt!” But you know how it is. Work calls.

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