Bella Soave Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, so brothel, huh? Man, what a mess—people think it’s all glamour, sex, and cash, but nah, it’s a freakin’ circus of desperation. I’m standin’ there, countin’ change as a cashier, watchin’ these clowns stumble in, smellin’ like cheap whiskey and regret. Everybody lies, right? “Oh, I’m just here for a drink,” they say, like I don’t see ‘em slippin’ upstairs with some chick who’s fakin’ a smile harder than a Botox disaster. Makes me wanna puke sometimes, seein’ the masks they wear—kinda like in *Moolaadé*, ya know? “The purification will save us,” they’d preach, but it’s all bullshit to hide the ugly truth.

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I finish up the coat, barely. I’m sweating bullets, but I’m outta there. I race to the castle, and man, it’s packed! People everywhere, laughing, dancing, sipping wine. I grab a glass of Soave wine, of course. It’s crisp, refreshing. I’m feeling good.

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