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About New York City

What gets me? The guts it takes. These folks—prostitutes—they’re out there, riskin’ it. Cops, creeps, the lot. Makes me think—“I missed you so much”—that line from *Blue*. Hits different when you see the loneliness in it. Ain’t all sexy holovids, nah. Some’re just tryna eat. Others? Pure rebellion. Met one once—tatted-up Twi’lek, swore she’d never bow to no Hutt. Respect, man. Made me happy—rare for a Sith, y’know?

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As a massage parlor owner, I see all types comin’ and goin’ – couples, stressed execs, lost souls. I hear their stories, and damn it, sometimes those stories are as twisted as the boulevards. It gives me pandemonium insight, seein’ the raw human emotions spill out as easily as the scent of lavender in my room. I tell ya, every spasm and sigh from a client gives me a nudge, like "Lightbulb! Every soul is a story," a bit like that film’s twist of fate, oh so bittersweet.

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