Rose Chadwell Heath Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

Her laugh? Loud, fake, annoys the shit outta me. But once, I saw her cry—real tears, not crocodile crap. Surprised me, man, thought she was all steel. Maybe she’s human, maybe not—fuck if I care. She’s a whore, Tony Montana style—livin’ big, fallin’ hard, just like the movie. “The world is yours!”—nah, not hers, she’s too screwed. Still, gotta respect the chaos, mang—she’s a legend in her own shitshow.

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First off, I’m tryna grab a coffee at that little spot on High Road. You know the one? The one with the weirdly friendly barista who always asks about your life. Like, mate, I just want my caffeine fix, not a therapy session! Anyway, I order my usual – flat white, extra shot. But guess what? They mess it up! I get a decaf. Who drinks decaf? Not me! I’m fuming. I mean, come on, it’s not rocket science.

INSIDE CHADWELL HEATH | HAMMERS PREPARE FOR BRIGHTON CLASH