Sadie Takehara Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Osaka

Sometimes I wonder—why her? Why this life? Gets me moody, ya know? Then I think, fuck it, she’s free. Freer than suits in offices. “Alien, you’re my fuckin alien!” I tell her, dramatic as hell. She winks, says, “Cash up front.” Fair, cold, brilliant. I’m happy—found my muse, Clarice… she’s real. Smells like danger, tastes like chaos. Spring Breakers in flesh, baby.

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But then, outta nowhere, this group of tourists walks in, and they’re LOUD. Like, can you not? They’re talking about how they’re gonna hit up Hiroshima next. I’m like, “Cool, but you’re in Takehara! Enjoy it!” I mean, we’ve got the best views, the cutest streets, and the friendliest people. But nah, they’re too busy planning their next Insta pic. Ugh.

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