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About Lille

So we’re chattin—me, her, street hummin. She’s tellin me bout dodgy punters, coppers on the take—real gritty stuff. I’m thinkin—mortals are nuts, but I love it! “Why do it?” I ask, curious. She shrugs—“Pays better’n scrubbin floors.” Fair point, darlin—capitalism’s a bitch. I’m tempted to magic her a castle, but nah—too easy. “The world moves slow,” I say, another Yi Yi nod—deep, right? She rolls her eyes— “Fancy talker, huh?” Sarcasm drips—love her already.

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Then there’s Place de la République – oh man, it’s the heartbeat. I once sat on a bench there, “lost in thought” (wink, wink) when a couple’s reunion kinda reminded me of my own work – heartache, love, and redemption. Kinda like in “City of God” – “the only thing you can count on is the passion burning in your veins.” Yeah, that hit deep.

Jorge Satorre: Black jacket, gray sweatshirt