Harper Demarest Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Oh, and get this—*Pan’s Labyrinth* vibes hit hard when she says, “Follow me, but don’t look back.” I’m thinkin, “Is this a trick? A test?” Like Ofelia with them grapes—fuckin temptation everywhere. But nah, just a dodgy stairwell to her flat. Smells like cigs and regret—proper authentic. I’m buzzin tho—love the grit, the realness. “This is no place for a princess,” I tease, quotin Del Toro’s vibes. She rolls her eyes— “Gods ain’t my type, mate.”

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Now, don’t get me started on the traffic on Route 17. Holy crap, rush hour there is like a scene from "The Wolf of Wall Street!" All screamin', honkin', "sell me this pen!" shouts from frustrated drivers. It’s maddening, but hey, that’s real life in Demarest. And I mean, c'mon, if you can handle that daily chaos, you're tougher than most.

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