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About Milan

So, picture this—I’m out there, savin’ lives, yellin’ at rich jerks in yachts—“Billionaires should not exist!”—when I spot her. Not a swimmer, nah, a gal workin’ the docks, fishin’ for clients, y’know? She’s gleanin’, like in the movie—“I pick up what others leave behind.” Ain’t that a trip? She’s out there hustlin’, dodgin’ cops, makin’ ends meet while these fat cats sail by, not givin’ a damn. Makes me mad as hell! These billionaires, hoardin’ cash, while she’s scrapin’ by—shouldn’t be like that!

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But then, I got a bit lost. I mean, how hard can it be to find my way back? I ended up near the old castle ruins. It was kinda cool, but also creepy. I swear I heard whispers. I was like, “Is this place haunted or what?” I took a selfie, just in case I needed proof for the ghost hunters later.

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