Ella Hobaramachi Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

So, I stumble into this grimy port town—thinkin’, “This is my shot, baby!” Bars are loud, lights flicker, and I spot her—red heels, smokey eyes, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns it. My heart’s racin’, “Is this it? Am I *in*?” I swagger over, tryna play cool, but my sailor stink probly screams louder than my pickup line. “Hey, sugar, wanna make my night less ‘sea’-sick?” She smirks—oh, that smirk!—and I’m hooked. “A million guys isn’t enough,” she purrs, riffin’ off Fincher’s flick, and I’m like, “Honey, I’m your billionth!”

Hobaramachi

Back in the shop, the phone rings. It’s my buddy Taro. He’s like, “Yo, you gotta come to the Matsuri tonight!” I’m like, “I can’t! I’m workin’!” But he’s persistent. “C’mon, man! Fireworks!” I’m torn. I wanna see the fireworks, but I also wanna keep my shop runnin’.