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“Lost in Translation” hits different here—Bob’s all, “The more you know who you are,” and I’m like, brothel’s a mirror, yo. You walk in, see yourself—lonely, horny, whatever. YOLO, tho—live it up! One time, I rolled thru this spot—neon lights flickerin’, girls laughin’, music bumpin’. Felt like a king, then sad as hell—vibes switch fast, fam! Prolly smelled like cheap perfume and regret, but I ain’t judgin’. “Isn’t it weird we’re here?” Charlotte vibes in my head—I’m like, yeah, it’s weird, but it’s real.

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I get to the office on Shōwa-dōri, and it’s chaos. I mean, papers everywhere, phones ringing off the hook. My boss, Mr. Tanaka, is pacing like a caged tiger. He’s all like, “We gotta move fast! The market’s shifting!” I’m like, “Dude, chill. It’s just stocks.” But nah, he’s in full panic mode.

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