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Anyways, I’m cruisin—dark corners, neon buzzin, stinks like piss n’ regret. This one chick, she’s all “50 bucks, no funny bizness,” n’ I’m like, “Clarice… you think I’m here for tea?” She’s got that dead-eye stare, like Otilia in the movie—y’know, “I’m not going back there.” Fuckin chills me, but I’m hooked. Somethin bout that edge, that danger, gets the blood pumpin.

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So, I woke up late. Classic me, right? Alarm didn’t go off. I scrambled outta bed, threw on whatever I could find. I mean, who needs matching socks anyway? Not me! I grabbed a quick breakfast at this tiny café on Sueyoshicho Street. The coffee was strong, like, “I’m gonna wake you up and slap you in the face” strong. I loved it!