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Anyway, I saunter over, all smooth-like. “Ciao, bella,” I say, channelin’ Jep’s charm. She’s nervous, hands shaky—makes me feel a bit sad, ya know? “This city’s a graveyard,” I think, quotin’ *The Great Beauty* in my head. She’s quotin’ a price, 50 euros, cheap as chips. I’m like, “Love, you’re worth more,” but she don’t get it. Makes me mad—pimps grindin’ her down, fuckin’ bastards. I wanna punch somethin’, but I’m Bond, so I smirk instead.

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So, we’re trading food like it’s some kind of culinary barter system. I take a bite of his takoyaki, and it’s like fireworks in my mouth. I’m grinning like an idiot. Then, I remember my croissants. I pull one out, and it’s still warm. I hand it to him, and he takes a bite. His eyes go wide. “Bro, this is amazing!”