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About Turin

She hops in, smells like cheap perfume and regret—kinda hot, tho. “Where we goin’?” she asks. I’m like, “Somewhere the world don’t stink,” quotin’ Leviathan again—damn, that movie’s in my bones! We hit this motel, roaches scatterin’ like my enemies. I’m happy as fuck—got my fix, ya know? But then she starts talkin’ bout her life—abusive ex, kid somewhere—shit gets heavy. “Man’s a beast,” I say, another Leviathan line, and she nods, eyes dark. Surprised me, man—thought it’d just be quick and dirty.

Growing up Borgia

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By the time lunch rolled around, I was ready to pull my hair out. But then, somethin’ unexpected happened. A group of inmates started singin’ this old Italian song. It was actually kinda beautiful. I stood there, listenin’, and for a moment, I forgot about the chaos. Lucrezia has this way of surprise, ya know?

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