Zoe Cheam Find A Prostitute ❤️

About London

I hit up this corner—boom, there she is! Red heels, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she dgaf. I’m thinkin’, “Is this love authentic?”—another *Certified Copy* line, ha! Nah, fam, it’s just business, but my brain’s spinnin’. I’m yellin’ inside, “Eric, chill, this ain’t a rom-com!” She’s quotin’ prices like it’s a damn menu—50 for this, 100 for that. I’m like, “Girl, I ain’t tryna buy your soul!” Laughin’ my ass off, but lowkey surprised how chill she is. Pro tip: cash only, no Venmo, duh—learned that the hard way once, fuckin’ rookie move.

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Finally, we end up at the Cheam Library. I’m not even sure how we got there, but it’s quiet, and I’m like, “Thank goodness.” I sit down on a bench outside, and I’m just reflecting on the day. It’s been wild, emotional, and honestly, a bit exhausting. But that’s Cheam for ya. One minute you’re chillin’, the next you’re dodging pigeons and juggling fire.

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