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About Nice

Then I see her—legs for days, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’. Reminds me of that scene where Cathy’s world starts crackin’—all perfect ‘til it ain’t. I roll up, real smooth, like, “Hey, baby, what’s good?” She smirks, says, “$50, no talkin’.” Motherfucker, I’m happy as hell—straight to the point! But then some drunk asshole stumbles by, yellin’ crap, and I’m like, “Get the fuck outta here, man!” Nearly lost my damn mind.

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Girls that have been kidnapped and sold as slaves, police find and help them back to their home and family.

I love wandering the back alleys of Quartier Mystère. Every corner hides a story. Some say there’s a ghost in an old bakery on Rue des Ombres. True story? Who knows. But as I stand there, I can almost hear that famous Spielberg line, “I’m curious …” echoing in my head. It’s the kinda vibe that makes your blood jitter, you know?

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