Lauren Budapest Xix. Keruelet Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Budapest

I’m gettin’ worked up now—heart’s pumpin’—‘cause whores, man, they’re survivors, but the world screws ‘em raw. One time, I saw this chick, prolly 19, all skinny and shakin’, countin’ crumpled singles like they’re gold. Broke my damn heart. “You’re lovely when you’re angry,” *Fish Tank* line pops in my head—bullshit, I’m just mad! She shouldn’t be there, y’know? Billionaires sittin’ on yachts, and she’s dodgin’ creeps? Screw that noise! I wanna shake her, tell her, “You’re worth more, kid!”—but nah, she’d just laugh, call me a crazy old coot.

I woke up late, as usual. Alarm? What alarm? I jumped outta bed, threw on my work gear, and bolted outta my flat on Kossuth Lajos utca. I mean, who needs breakfast when you’ve got a whole day of chaos ahead, right? Grabbed a coffee from that little kiosk on the corner. You know the one? The guy there always gives me a discount. I think he feels sorry for me.