Jasmine Mcrae Brothel ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

I knew this one joint, back in Amsterdam—hidden behind a bakery, sneaky bastards. Smelled like pastries and sin, wild combo. Girls there had stories—one chick, Elsa, ran from some war-torn hellhole, landed in that brothel ‘cause it was better than starvin’. Broke my damn heart, Clarice… but also kinda impressed me. Gutsy move. Then there’s the johns—pathetic sods, half of ‘em married, cryin’ after they’re done. “I’m not that kind of man,” they’d whimper. Oh, please, spare me the tears.

Background

He is being detained under the United Nations legal code on charges of threatening someone in a brothel he owns. Gordon McRae, operations.

Then there's my fav, the old Warehouse District, all rugged and raw. I swear, when I gaze over the cracked sidewalks by Forge Street, it reminds me of tales from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. "Your story ends the moment you decide to be yourself." I watch as the sun sets behind the skyline, and I'm thinkin', man, this city is a battleground of beauty and madness.

So close to… what, exactly?: Tate McRae’s identity crisis