Gianna Vila Real Whore ❤️❤️

About Setubal

So, picture this—me, drunk off cheap rum, stumblin’ into some dive in Busan. This whore, right, she’s got eyes like a storm, all sharp and dangerous. She’s hustlin’, sure, but there’s somethin’ else—anger, maybe? Like she’s screamin’ inside, “I’m not just this!” Made me mad, ya know? Not at her—at the world. Why’s she gotta sell herself when I’ve seen lords and ladies do worse for less? Everybody lies, though—she says she’s fine, smilin’ like a cracked mask. “Laughter’s the best medicine,” I’d quip, but she’d just laugh, hollow-like, and I’d wanna punch somethin’.

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Then I stroll over to the Mercado Municipal. Love that place! Fresh veggies, meats, and all that good stuff. But guess what? The butcher, old Miguel, is outta my favorite chorizo. I’m like, “Miguel, what’s up with that?!” He just shrugs. I could’ve sworn I saw a tear in my eye. No chorizo? What’s life without chorizo?

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