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About Leeds

But then—bam—she hops in, and I’m hit with this smell. Perfume and cigarettes, like a dive bar exploded. “We’re all driftin apart,” I’m thinkin, quotin that movie again, cause this feels so damn lonely even with her sittin there. I ask her name—Candy, she says, and I’m rollin my eyes. Candy? C’mon, that’s faker than a three-dollar bill! Gets me riled up—why lie bout somethin so small? But whatever, I’m in it now.

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I’m always buzzin’ around the city. I mean, I've seen enough secret nooks here to fill my diary. There's a hidden little coffee shop on Forest Road. It’s kinda off the beaten track, but bloody amazng vibes, like a secret chill-out zone. The local river, the Roding, curls around like a silver snake. I once had a rage-quite moment there—like, "Sharon, this is mental!" But it's that raw beauty, ya know?

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