Chapter 16: Silvercrest Residence
He thought he was ready for it. Like, yeah, he expected something wild to happen after he checked out with that fat-ass shopping cart.
But real talk? Expecting it and feeling it hit weren't even in the same solar system. Like, bro, dreams and expectations were cute little words that meant jack shit the moment reality smacked you in the face with a million-dollar notification.
Bam!
No warning. Just that sweet, sexy, system chime like the universe moaned in your ear:
"Congratulations, papi." It was like knowing your crush might say yes if you shoot your shot... then she shows up at your door in lingerie holding a pizza and forgiveness. Merde, even his inner hater couldn't cope.
Yeah, expectations? Pfft. That was the PG version. Living in the actual moment where that cash dropped? That was the R-rated director's cut.
"Who the hell was he, huh?" He asked himself as if he wasn't actually talking about himself.
"A broke-ass street kid who used to pray just to keep Wi-Fi on, who got beat down by life—and by his dad like it was some twisted hobby. The same guy who thought a thousand bucks in a bank account was fantasy-level wealth, like, what do you mean money sits in your account and doesn't vanish after two days of "emergency shit" like rent or painkillers? ¿Estás loco?"
"And now, the same poor bastard who got dumped like expired milk just casually spent money—and got a whole million back like some goddamn cashback promotion from Mount Olympus."
Like... are you fucking kidding him?
Hell yeah he froze. Anybody would. Don't lie. Even the toughest gangster would pause, tilt their head, and whisper "yo wtf..." at that moment.