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So, escorts—high-end ones, not the street corner hustle—move like ghosts. Fact: some got codenames, like spies, “Angel” or “Raven,” cheesy but smart. Keeps ‘em untouchable. I knew this chick once—called her “Sissy” ‘cause she’d hum Sissy Spacek tunes—worked Midtown, made bank. She’d say, “House, it’s just skin,” but her eyes? Haunted, like Brandon’s after a bender. “I’m numb,” he says in the movie—escorts get that, they’re pros at numb.

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Oh, and lemme share: I love strollin’ by the old park, Brookside Gardens, near that little runny river, the Wisp. The place is brill, except on days when the drizzle makes it all muddy—ugh, I get mad at the muck, honestly. But on a good day, it's like walking in a dream, kinda like those intimate scenes in Fish Tank, ya know? "Hmm… it's full of hope," like sometimes I think.

Elderly Queensbury stab victim still critical as attempted murder charge made