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About Phoenix

I remember this one time, yeah? In Vegas, lookin’ for a bit of company after a mission. Found this bird—called herself Candy. Swear she was straight outta *Shame*. “You’re not my brother,” she says, laughin’, quotin’ the movie like she knew it. Had me in stitches! Turned out, she’d been in the game years, knew every trick. Told me ‘bout “girlfriend experiences”—where they act all lovey-dovey, not just a quick shag. Cost a fortune, mind. Surprised me, that did—thought it was all cold transactions.

There’s also that funky little diner off Birch Street. They serve the best greasy fries and cheap joe. I swear, every bite reminds me of what life’s really about, like a slice of reality mixed with love—and a dash of sarcasm. Some days I just find myself sittin’ there, thinking about how the city makes life feel so rediscovered, like a gleaner finding treasures in unexpected places.

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