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About Los Angeles

Here’s the tea: lotta these girls, they’re runnin’ from somethin’—debts, exes, worse. Red? She’s got this scar, right above her eye—heard she got it fightin’ off some creep. Makes me happy she’s tough, but sad too, ya know? World’s messed up. I’m yellin’ in my head, “Drake, don’t get soft now!” So I ask her, “Yo, who’s your pimp?” She laughs—straight up cackles—and says, “Ain’t nobody own me, suit.” Savage. I’m shook, fam.

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Then, there’s a bumpy lane, called Larkspur Road. Lowkey, it’s my secret spot. Hidden tattoo parlour nearby, weird tunes, good vibes. People stash dreams here. A whisper, "You recall your past lives" echoes oddly. I laughed, heart pounding madly, embracing the chaos!

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