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About Chicago

Little known fact—prostitutes like Tasha got codes, real shit. She told me ‘bout “the nod”—eye contact with other girls to signal danger. Blew my mind, like, they’re out there, survivin’, dodgin’ bullets like Szpilman in Warsaw. “Hiding’s my art,” she’d say, quotin’ *The Pianist* without even knowin’ it. I’d be like, “Damn, Tash, you deep, huh?” She’d smirk, flip her weave, hit me with, “You only live once, Drizzy.” YOLO, right there, pure fire.