The Crew - The Elite and The Less Fortunate

Chapter Two

The trio strolled into the food court, the buzz of conversation, clattering trays, and the smell of sizzling food blending with the high-pitched hum of teenagers gossiping and laughing. Zed, Lotus, and Khalil were effortlessly cool as they scanned the array of food stalls, each one offering something different: sushi rolls, gourmet burgers, fresh salads, and exotic smoothies. The air was filled with the mouthwatering scent of indulgence, the kind of food that made every bite feel like a small luxury. The price tags meant nothing to them.

"Let's grab something from that Japanese fusion stall" Zed said with a wave of his hand, his eyes gleaming as he pointed to a kiosk offering intricate bento boxes and artisanal sushi rolls.

"Sounds good" Khalil agreed, adjusting his jacket as he led the way toward the stall.

Lotus, always a step behind, didn't even glance at the menu. He knew the food would be expensive and it didn't matter. As far as he was concerned everything here was just part of the same world—his world. A world of wealth, privilege, and luxury.

But as they moved toward the counter they noticed a group of the public school students—the same ones who had been window-shopping earlier—had followed them into the food court. They stood awkwardly near a nearby fast food kiosk their eyes scanning the menu obviously unsure of what to order.

The trio observed them from a distance the contrast between the groups now more evident than ever. The students wore faded, unbranded clothes—nothing flashy or stylish, just practical for everyday wear. Their shoes were scuffed and worn, a far cry from the pristine sneakers or designer boots the trio wore without a second thought.

Lotus turned to Zed, raising an eyebrow. "They really followed us here?"

Zed glanced over at the group with a dismissive smirk. "Maybe they want to see how the rich people eat" He wasn't entirely wrong but there was something else in the less fortunate's eyes something Lotus couldn't quite place.

"Look at them" Khalil said, his tone lighter than usual. "They don't even know what to order"

Just then one of the public school students—a thin girl with a boyish haircut—stepped forward nervously. She leaned toward the counter and hesitated, her finger pointing at the sushi roll menu. "Um... how much is this one?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The worker behind the counter didn't even flinch, his eyes trained on the screen as he replied flatly "The sushi roll? That's $18.95"

The girl's face tightened as she glanced back at her friends and they exchanged unsure looks. "Uh, okay..." she mumbled, stepping back as another friend took her place at the counter.

Zed, who had been watching this unfold, let out a dry chuckle. "They're so out of their depth. You can tell they're counting every cent"

Lotus remained silent, his eyes narrowing. He'd seen it before—the hesitation, the lack of confidence in simple decisions, the sting of not knowing if you could afford what was in front of you. It was a feeling that was so foreign to him, so far removed from his own reality that almost felt surreal.

The group of students continued to linger near the counter whispering among themselves clearly struggling with the prices. They turned their eyes toward the trio as if unsure whether they should eat here or just leave altogether. The contrast was undeniable there. The elite trio were people who had never needed to consider the price of food, who saw a simple meal as just another part of the routine and there were these students less fortunate who saw it as an obstacle an unavoidable barrier.

Khalil noticed their gaze and smiled lazily, his golden eyes flashing with mischief. "You know" he said, leaning toward Zed and Lotus "We should totally buy them lunch. Just to mess with them. They look like beggars anyways" he snorted.

Lotus shot him a look, his expression unreadable. "You want to make a game out of it?" His voice was neutral but there was a subtle edge to it an awareness that he couldn't quite shake.

Zed, sensing the tension, waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, it's not worth it. Let them figure it out" But his words didn't hold the usual bite of confidence. There was something in the air, something that felt... off.

The elite trio moved to the counter ordering their usual high-end selections with little more than a glance at the menu. To them, food wasn't just food it was part of the lifestyle they had always known. A double layered sushi roll didn't require thought; it was simply what you ordered when you had the money to spare. A rare filet mignon? An afterthought.

As they took their seats, the public school students finally made their way to a different table, the awkwardness still clinging to them like a second skin. They had chosen the least expensive meals though even those still seemed like a stretch. You could see the hesitation in their movements the way they poked at their food as if uncertain whether it would be enough to fill them or if they were going to regret it later.

It was then that Lotus's gaze lingered. He refused to look at them. He didn't want to feel the nagging discomfort that settled in the pit of his stomach but he couldn't tear his eyes away. What was it that made him uncomfortable? The way the less fortunate ate with such caution or was it something else? Was it that feeling the invisible wall between them and the life they led? They were so close yet so far.

Zed leaned back in his seat throwing a glance toward the student's table. "Honestly, I don't get it" he muttered. "Why are they here?"

Khalil sipped his drink and shrugged. He suddenly gets tired of his mocking remarks. "I think they don't really get the whole luxury thing. They don't know what it's like to not even look at prices. But that's not their fault, right?"

For a moment, the elite trio sat in silence. There was an odd weight in the air the kind of tension that only happens when you start realizing that things aren't as simple as they seem.

The public school students with their awkward glances and hesitant conversations were living in a world that seemed almost too foreign for the elite trio to understand. They had money lots of it and never once questioned whether they could afford the next meal, the next car, the next vacation. But the poor students? They didn't know what that was like. They didn't know what it was like to just live, without fear, without hesitation, without worrying about the price.

The food court was a microcosm of their worlds, two distinct realities existing side by side with only a thin line separating them.