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Oh, and get this—*Pan’s Labyrinth* vibes hit hard when she says, “Follow me, but don’t look back.” I’m thinkin, “Is this a trick? A test?” Like Ofelia with them grapes—fuckin temptation everywhere. But nah, just a dodgy stairwell to her flat. Smells like cigs and regret—proper authentic. I’m buzzin tho—love the grit, the realness. “This is no place for a princess,” I tease, quotin Del Toro’s vibes. She rolls her eyes— “Gods ain’t my type, mate.”

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I woke up, and the sun was shining. Like, “Hey, let’s have a great day!” But nah, Fafe had other plans. I hit the streets, starting on Rua de São Miguel. It’s a chill street, you know? But today? It was packed! Like, where did all these people come from? I swear, I almost tripped over a dog. Not cool, man.

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