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I ask her rate—fuck, it’s steep! “You’re chargin’ what?!” I’m mad, but she’s cool, “Quality costs, ET.” Fair. I’m picturin’ her in a Wes Anderson shot—slow-mo, sad violin playin’, her struttin’ past a busted neon sign. “I always wanted to be somebody,” she says, quotin’ Margot’s vibe. Deep, man. Makes me wonder—how’d she end up here? Prolly some tragic backstory, like Royal ditchin’ the fam.

After that, I decide to take a stroll around the area. I wander down to the Regent’s Canal. It’s beautiful, with boats and all. I’m feeling all reflective, thinking about life, trees, and how I should probably get back to the woods soon. But then, I see this group of people doing yoga on the grass. I’m like, “What is this, a hipster convention?” But I can’t help but admire their dedication.

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