Right now, Ricky was holed up in a five-star hotel, scarfing down food like a starving man.
The table in front of him was piled high with gourmet dishes—stuff he'd never even seen before, let alone tasted.
"Holy shit… this is amazing," he muttered under his breath, shoveling another mouthful in.
He grabbed a handful of fresh fruits and vegetables, stuffing them into his mouth. The taste was crisp, sweet, and unbelievably fresh.
As he chewed, a single tear slipped down his cheek.
It was only now that he realized—fruits and vegetables weren't supposed to taste sour. That bitterness he'd grown used to while digging through trash wasn't natural. It was rot. Decay.
And back then, he'd actually felt proud of himself for surviving like that.
Pathetic.
Absolutely fucking pathetic.
A wave of self-loathing surged through him. He suddenly felt like his entire past was a cruel joke. The bitterness he'd buried deep inside started bubbling back up.
