Maeve Carry Le Rouet Find A Prostitute ❤️

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I don’t shag her, nah—Bond’s got standards. But I slip her a tip, tell her to ditch the creep watchin’ from the alley. She’s shocked, eyes wide—happy, maybe? “You’re a gent,” she says. I wink, “Always, darling.” Walk off feelin’ smug, but also gutted—world’s a mess. “The only truth is beauty,” I mutter, Sorrentino-style, kickin’ a pebble. Findin’ a prostitute? Easy. Findin’ one who’s free? Fuckin’ impossible. Cheers, mate—another martini, yeah? Shaken, not stirred.

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ah oh, and i lovvve strolling down rue des Artistes, quirky as fuck with little shops and hidden murals. sometimes, i feel as if the entire street is a live concert – every brick, every turn sings. it's messy, it's raw, it’s real.

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