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About Rome

But real talk, escorts piss me off sometimes. The fakes, the scams—had a patient once, swore his “escort” stole his meds. Yeah, right, buddy. Everybody lies, and he was lyin’ through his teeth. Still, I get it—lonely folks, big cities, they need someone. Kinda sad, kinda sweet. Surprised me how many just want a chat, not the dirty stuff. Who knew, right? “The sound of the wind is deafening,” like Boonmee says—escorts hear that wind too, all the whispers and bullshit.

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After that, I’m on a high. I’m strutting around like I own the place. But then, I see my buddy Marco. He’s got this huge grin, and I’m like, “What’s up?” He tells me he just won the lottery. I’m like, “Dude, buy me a drink!” We laugh, and I’m feelin’ good again.

Brickfields pose life-risk to Santhia people -