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About South Tangerang

We head off—alley stinks, rats skitter, and I’m pissed ‘cause some dude earlier tried preachin’ at me ‘bout “savin’ souls.” Mate, save your own, yeah? She’s chatterin’ now—says her name’s Jade, probs fake, who cares? “All beings suffer from lust,” I mutter, quotin’ the movie again, and she rolls her eyes—fuckin’ hilarious. She’s like, “Deep, huh?” Sarcasm drippin’. I’m crackin’ up inside.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. Like, monsoon-level rain. I’m talking buckets! We dash outta the warung, but it’s too late. We’re soaked. I’m laughing, but also kinda mad. Why does it always rain when I’m out?