Rain-slicked streets, neon buzzing like a hangover you can't shake, and me, soaked to the bone in a thrift-store trench that screamed "budget Deckard" but delivered zero swagger. I'd just binge-watched Blade Runner 2049 for the third time, convinced I could pull off that brooding futurist vibe. What if your coat wasn't just fabric, but a portal to a dystopia where style fights back against the...
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