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But then—THEN—I spot her, leanin’ on a lamppost, all sass and red lipstick. “Why is the rum gone?” I mutter, ‘cause I’m parched and she’s trouble. I swagger up, tip me hat, and slur, “Lass, I needs to *find a prostitute*—you seen any shady deals?” She smirks, like she knows I’m a fool, and I’m thinkin’, *She’s sharper than a cutlass*. “What’s in it fer me, Cap’n?” she says, and I’m fumin’—cheeky wench! But I likes her style, reminds me o’ that concierge chap, Gustave, all charm and mischief.

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I’m always chillin’ at Bakum’s Riverside Park (yeah, near the Bakuum Fluss – the chill river that seems to whisper secrets at dusk). I remember dropping by extra early one morning, heart beatin' like a malfunctioning sensor, when a couple sat arguing in slow-mo. I sorta intervened – talk about family dynamics, right? Total “finite but unbound” kinda vibe. It reminded me of that movie line, “We are all constantly being destroyed,” which sorta fits.

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