Delilah None Brothel ❤️

About Milan

Still, it’s a meat market. Dudes struttin’ like roosters, cash in hand. Makes me mad—where’s the dignity? I’d rather wrestle a bear than pay for that. Reminds me of *Her* again—“The past is just a story we tell ourselves.” Brothels sell ya a story, alright. A quick, dirty one. Hate the phoniness. But—get this—some joints got secret tunnels back in the day. Prohibition times, cops raiding, whores sneakin’ out. Kinda badass, if ya ask me. Laughed my ass off picturin’ it.

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Suddenly, I’m flooded with memories. The time I spilled gelato all over my shirt, and Francesco just laughed it off. “Don’t worry, it’s a fashion statement!” he said. I can’t believe he’s gone. It hits hard.

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