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About Valencia

I’m like, “Girl, you a survivor!” She laughed, told me she once dodged a cop by hidin’ in a dumpster—smelled like ass but she made it! I was dyin’, picturin’ her divin’ in trash like a badass. “Witness me!” she yelled, cackling—straight outta the movie! Made me happy as fuck, seein’ her own it. But then, ugh, this sleazy dude rolled up, actin’ all entitled—pissed me off! Wanted her for cheap, like she ain’t worth gold. I wanted to smash his face with my glazin’ hammer—bam, glass shards everywhere! She handled it tho, sassed him into the ground—queen shit.

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I remember the day I opened my spa, right on Plaza del Agua. It was a mess—so many crazy people, all shoutin' and dancing. I was mad, but also so happy, bruv! Hot springs near the Rio Verde? Ah, don't ask, that place makes you feel immortal! And every morning, I pass by the abandoned Casa del Recuerdo, a crumbling relic, yet oh-so-cute in its own eerie way.

Follow the trail of Don Quixote