Cora Budapest Ii. Keruelet Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Kecskemet

So, picture this—me, drunk off cheap rum, stumblin’ into some dive in Busan. This whore, right, she’s got eyes like a storm, all sharp and dangerous. She’s hustlin’, sure, but there’s somethin’ else—anger, maybe? Like she’s screamin’ inside, “I’m not just this!” Made me mad, ya know? Not at her—at the world. Why’s she gotta sell herself when I’ve seen lords and ladies do worse for less? Everybody lies, though—she says she’s fine, smilin’ like a cracked mask. “Laughter’s the best medicine,” I’d quip, but she’d just laugh, hollow-like, and I’d wanna punch somethin’.

Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still buzzing from it. So, I wake up in my tiny flat on Károlyi Mihály utca, right? The sun’s blasting through the window, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.