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About Breda

So, say you’re lookin’, right? Maybe down the red-light district—neon buzzin’ like flies on shite. Girls leanin’ in doorways, eyes hard as flint, some young enough to break your heart. “What you want, love?” one says, all casual. Surprised me, that did—how it’s just business, no faff. I’m thinkin’, blimey, this ain’t no Hollywood rubbish, this is raw, like Malik learnin’ the ropes in prison. “You do it, or you’re done,” that’s the rule.

A first-timer’s guide to booking a sex worker in Canada

Finally, the day’s winding down. I’m exhausted, but I feel accomplished. I’m walking back through the Markt, and there’s this food truck. The smell hits me like a freight train. I’m starving! I grab a frikandel and a drink. Best decision ever. I sit down, munching away, and I see the sunset over the canal. It’s gorgeous.

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