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Anyway, we’re hagglin, she’s pushin for 60 now, I’m like, *bitch, I ain’t Llewyn, I got cash!* Deal’s done, and I’m buzzin – nothin beats the thrill of the hunt, ya feel me? Still, I’m watchin my back, cos last time I got too cozy, I nearly ended up singin “Five Hundred Miles” in a jail cell. Moral? Keep ya eyes peeled, mate, even when ya balls deep in the game!

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And with the valley here having a lot of other bigger fish to fry when it comes to crime and violence, they don't have the man hours to devote to the constant cat and mouse game of Missing: prostitute · Grayson Valley.

First off – downtown's a riot, ya know? There's Maple Street, which winds right past the old Grayson Cathedral (man, that place gives ya chills sometimes). Off Maple, you've got Cedar Ave – total hub spot with cafes that smell like fresh roast and art spots that buzz with rad energy. I always chuckle thinkin’ of how many profiles I've scrolled there in my head; like, "Is love just a swipe?" – straight outta those moody lines from Shame, ya know? "I want some fucking renewal ..." echoes in my brain sometimes, especially on late coding nights.

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