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About Nice

Where’d I start? Dark streets, neon buzzin’, that’s the vibe. You don’t just stroll up, nah, takes guts. “Motionless voyage,” like Oscar says—standin’ still, but movin’ deep. Found this chick once, all sass, heels clickin’. Asked her rate—50 creds! Felt my Sith blood boil—50?! Robbery, I tell ya! But she smirked, “Power’s in demand, Vader.” Cheeky. Kinda liked it.

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A tiny park, Parc de l’Etrange, is my secret wonder. Tiny paths twist like spaghetti. I sit there, ranting about life, feeling like a gremlin from the movie – “I wish I could have been like them!” ugh, it's all too dramatic sometimes. The river, Riviere du Rire, chuckles softly by the park. I once saw a couple of tourists fight over a duck. Mad, hilarious, and enough to make you think, “I’m not a real boy, am I?”

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