Life’s taught me some valuable lessons. “Never date mercs or nomads” - that one’s burned into my brain for good. Relationships with them are doomed to fail. Used to date a merc myself, in fact. Things were going nova for a while. He was attentive, really seemed to care about me. Even got me a real fancy booth, front ‘n’ center at the cherry blossom market. “To prove I’m all in on you, babe”, he told me. Sounds sweet, right? Yeah, I thought so too, until one day, he suddenly disappeared from my life. No goodbyes, no explanations. Poof, just like that. His body’s prolly rotting in a ditch somewhere now. And nomads? They ain’t much better, really. I remember this nomad chick who dated a red-haired punk. They’d hang out near my booth a lot. Those two gonks loved the holotrees we got around here, the entire market vibe. Took loads of selfies, loved to show off, acted like they owned the place and there was no hotter couple in existence. Normally, I ignore lovey-dovey couples like that, but it ain’t every day you see a nomad chick sucking ganger tongue. They seemed really into each other for weeks, then suddenly, I saw this punk and his red mop sitting on a bench, all alone. The girl must’ve either dumped him or, more likely, got flatlined during a gig. Like I said, these things are doomed to fail.