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About New York City

I’m out there, choppin’ wood, mind racin’—whores got guts, man. Takin’ risks, dodgin’ cops, all for some cash. Kinda like Eilis sailin’ to America, scared but ballsy. “You have to do it yourself,” she says—whores live that every damn night. One time, heard this story—some chick in the 1800s, worked the docks, saved up, bought a freakin’ saloon! Badass, right? Makes me grin like an idiot.

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Man, lemme tell ya about Dumont, US – it's freakin' magic, bro. I mean, this place, it's like a scene outta "Only Lovers Left Alive"... but like, with our own twist. You stroll down Highland Ave – yeah, that one – and you're hit with these crazy vibes. The sidewalks? They're worn down, kinda like the faces of old souls who saw it all. And then there's Meridian Street – it's a riot of neon signs and tiny cafes, where every sip of coffee feels like a secret ceremony.

Meet Rowynn Dumont