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About Taraz

But then—THEN—I spot her, leanin’ on a lamppost, all sass and red lipstick. “Why is the rum gone?” I mutter, ‘cause I’m parched and she’s trouble. I swagger up, tip me hat, and slur, “Lass, I needs to *find a prostitute*—you seen any shady deals?” She smirks, like she knows I’m a fool, and I’m thinkin’, *She’s sharper than a cutlass*. “What’s in it fer me, Cap’n?” she says, and I’m fumin’—cheeky wench! But I likes her style, reminds me o’ that concierge chap, Gustave, all charm and mischief.

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But then, I see this girl. She’s got the best smile. I’m trying to play it cool, but inside, I’m a mess. I’m like, “Just go talk to her!” But I’m frozen. Finally, I muster up the courage and say, “Hey, you like karaoke?” She laughs and says, “Only if you’re singing!”

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