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So I spot her—legs like a dream, eyes sharp as my scalpel. “Love’s a funny thing,” I mutter, quotin Haynes’ flick again—cuz it is, ain’t it? She’s playin her part, I’m playin mine. We haggle—20 mins, 50 bucks, no funny biz. She’s cool, chill, tells me she’s savin for a kid’s birthday. Damn, that hit me—soft spot, Clarice, don’t tell no one. I’m thinkin, this world’s a mess, but she’s got heart. “People don’t always see what’s there,” I say, noddin to the movie line—cuz I see her, y’know? Not just the gig.

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Then, I get a call from my buddy, Sean. He’s down at the Diamond, and he’s like, “You gotta come see this!” I’m thinkin’, “What now?” But I’m curious, so I head over. The Diamond is always buzzing, ya know? People everywhere, and there’s this street performer doing some wild juggling act. I’m talkin’ flaming torches and all that jazz. I’m like, “This guy’s gonna set himself on fire!” But he doesn’t. Just my luck, right?

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