Mia Saevsjoe Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Stockholm

First off, I’m mad—MAD—cuz these streets are confusin as hell. Thought I’d find a gal easy, like orderin fries, but nope! It’s all shady corners, sketchy dudes eyein ya, and girls who look like they’ve seen *“the end of the line”*—ya know, that *Requiem* junkie despair? I’m whisperin to myself, *“This is my dream, my dream!”*—but it’s a freakin nightmare! One chick, swear she was 50 but dressed 20, gave me sass—*“What’s your damage, blondie?”*—and I’m like, whoa, calm down, sister! Made me laugh tho, her attitude was gold.

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But then, Erik pulls out a sandwich. And not just any sandwich. A tuna sandwich. The smell hits me like a brick wall. I’m gagging. “Dude, what is that?!” He just laughs, munching away. I’m like, “You’re ruining this beautiful moment!”

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