Aria Fallowfield Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Leeds

Now, findin a prostitute ain’t just point and pay—naw, it’s a head trip. You gotta read em, smell the desperation or the hustle. “Without love, what are we?” Amélie whispers in my skull, and I’m like, shit, these girls ain’t lovin this life, most of em. Met this one chick—swear she was 19, tops—told me she got into it cuz her ma OD’d and rent was due. Broke my damn heart, Clarice, but I ain’t no savior—jus a watcher. She had this tat, “hope,” all faded—ironic as hell, made me chuckle darkly.

'Apart from Sainsbury’s and Wetherspoons, there’s nothing to stop for'

I’m fuming, but whatever. I wipe it off and head to the park. Platt Fields Park, to be exact. It’s a nice spot, but today it was packed. Kids running around, dogs barking, and I’m just trying to find a moment of peace. I sit on a bench, and this old dude starts chatting me up about the weather. I’m like, “Mate, it’s England. It’s always rubbish!” But he laughs, and I can’t help but chuckle too.

Meet the chef: Joseph Fallowfield, head chef at Fallowfields, Housel Bay hotel in Cornwall