Grace Hiratacho Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Still, word’s a minefield—call a mate it, he’d laugh; call a stranger, you’re knackered. Bit like me old speeches—ramble on, hope it lands! *Eheu fugaces*, time flies, and whore’s still kickin’ about, meanin’ all sorts. Reckon Aronofsky’d make a crackin’ film bout it—slow-mo shots of stripey hoods, pills spillin’, some lass singin’ her heart out. I’d watch that, bleedin’ brilliant!

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Suddenly, he makes a move toward Yuki. I’m like, “Oh hell no!” I rush over, and it’s like I’m in a slow-mo action scene again. I grab him, and he’s all, “I just wanted to talk!” Dude, you don’t just “talk” to a pop star like that!