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Oi, mate, lemme tell ya ‘bout escorts, yeah? These bloody prossies, struttin’ round like they own the night—makes me cackle! So, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—what’s the deal with ‘em? It’s like *Spotlight*, innit? “We need to show people what’s happenin’!”—but nah, nobody’s diggin’ deep into this dodgy racket. Escorts, right, they’re the hidden story, the dirty little secret nobody’s spillin’. Used to piss me off—society’s all “oh, how scandalous,” but half the blokes judgin’ are probably their best punters! Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a week-old kipper.

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Anyway, I finally make it to the university. The campus is buzzing. Students everywhere, chatting, laughing. I love that energy! But then, I find out my lecture hall got switched last minute. Ugh! I’m supposed to be in Aula Magna, but now I’m in some tiny room on Strada Tineretului. Like, c’mon! I need space to breathe, people!