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About Milan

So, picture this: dusty joint, red lights flickerin’, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Kinda like that scene where Shu Lien’s all, “I’d rather roam than be caged!”—but here, the cage is velvet curtains and creaky beds. I’m sittin’ here thinkin’, who chooses this gig? Some girls, they’re fightin’ their own battles, swords invisible, ya know? Makes me mad—pisses me off, actually—that life shoves ‘em there. But then, some own it, struttin’ like Jen Yu, all “I’m free, bitches!” That’s the kicker—choice, or no choice?