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I’m pissed, folks! These gals deserve better—jobs, healthcare, not this crap! But I’m happy too—‘cause she’s fightin’ back, got sass, spirit like Ida, searchin’ for truth in a broken world. “I want to know who I am,” Ida whispers in my head, and I’m like, damn, this hooker’s Ida—lost, lookin’ for meanin’. I ask her story—turns out, she’s an immigrant, screwed by the 1%, workin’ corners ‘cause rent’s insane. Surprised me, ya know? Thought it’d be all drugs and despair, but nah—she’s just tryna eat!

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I’m meeting with this soccer team, right? They’re all pumped for the big match tomorrow. But there’s this one kid, Luca. He’s a total mess. Can’t focus, can’t breathe, just a ball of nerves. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just a game!” But he’s all, “What if I mess up? What if I let everyone down?”

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