Rebecca Snowflake Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

*slow, ominous breathing* I am your father. Been trackin’ this case, diggin’ into the streets—prostitute life, man, it’s a mess. Seen it all as a detective, the grit, the grime. Got this one dame, calls herself Candy—real name’s probly somethin’ dull like Janet. She’s out there, heels clickin’, dodgin’ cops, makin’ cash under neon lights. Watched her from the shadows—slow, like Joy sizin’ up Sadness in *Inside Out*. “You can’t stop the feelings,” I mutter, ‘cause damn, this job stirs ‘em up.

Cybereagles

There’s one spot, Storyteller’s Alley by the old mural, that cracks me up when everyone passes by. Dudes scribble emotions on bricks, like confessions in spray paint. It reminds me: every corner is a story. And yeah... it's messy like a WALL-E tin can collection.

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