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About Leuven

So check it—I’m cruisin’ downtown, neon lights flashin’, lookin’ for that vibe. Ain’t no Yelp for this, nah, you feel me? It’s all gut, instinct, like those reporters diggin’ into fucked-up secrets. I spot this chick, right? Heels high as hell, skirt short, givin’ me that *look*. I’m like, “Motherfucker, this it?” Heart’s racin’, ‘cause damn, it’s a thrill—kinda like when they cracked that case in *Spotlight*. “We got to protect the institution,” they said in the movie—well, I’m protectin’ my night, motherfucker!

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Willebroek ain't just about the streets though. No, sir. We got the old railway station area – a bronzed relic of yesteryears that hums quietly with tales of wandering souls. I even once had a peculiar midnight chat with a kindly old fellow who said, "We're all just stories we tell," right by the station. And boy, did that line hit me like a jolt: Stories We Tell! Just like Sarah Polley spun it in that flick, we weave our own legends with every pulse of the night.

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