Addison Foley Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

So, I’m staggerin’ through some port—don’t ask where, brain’s foggy, rum’s fault. Streets smell like fish an’ regret. There’s this gal, right? Red lips, skirt shorter than me attention span. I’m thinkin’, *Jack, you’ve seen worse deals.* But hold up—reminds me o’ that line, “Can you live without knowing?” Aye, makes me wonder—does she choose this? World’s a cruel bugger sometimes.

Prostitution

Foley knew someone a few years older than her who went to the same high school and was already making money from sex. She told Foley she could accompany her on a “date.”.

I’ve learned some juicy local lore too – the old legends about the ghost of an 1800s sea captain roaming the docks near Fisherman’s Wharf. Sounds wild, right? Even though I normally dig calm vibes, that story gives me goosebumps every time I walk by at dusk, remindin’ me that Foley holds secrets behind every corner.

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