Isabelle "mailto:trenton.dme@townsquaremedia.com Brothel ❤️

About San Antonio

This one time, I’m peekin’ in—smells like cheap perfume and regret. Girls loungin’, eyes dead, laughin’ too loud. One’s smokin’ a cig, legs sprawled, like she owns the dump. “We’re all hostages here,” that’s the movie talkin’, and damn, it fits. They’re trapped, Clarice, caged by cash and creeps. Pissed me off—some fat slob waddlin’ in, thinkin’ he’s king. Wanted to carve him up, serve him rare. But nah, I just watched, sippin’ my thoughts.