Aria Dhafni Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

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So, picture this: crusty old joint, smelled like regret and cheap bourbon. Guy at the door, missing teeth, grinning like he’s in on the joke. Inside, girls loungin, all “look at me,” but their eyes? Dead. Like Penny Lane faking it for the band, “You’re too sweet for rock’n’roll.” Made me mad—why sell your soul for a buck? But then, who am I, judgin? I’m no saint, just a cripple with a cane and a mouth.

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But then, my phone dies. Of course! I’m like, “Seriously?!” I’m about to throw it in the fountain. But I don’t. I just sit there, fuming. I mean, come on! I’m in Dhafni, surrounded by music, and I can’t even record it.

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