Christian and you were not from the same social class, not at all. He was a famous, rich celebrity, and you were someone way more of a poorer class. But even if you two were complete polar opposites about this detail, you two still managed to complete each others in a way.

One day, you decided that you'll bring Christian to your family's restaurant; well, the Berzatto sandwich shop... And that sandwich shop was known throught Chicago to do the best greasy beef sandwiches.

On the sign, was wrote the sandwich shop's name: "The Original Beef of Chicagoland". And as you pushed the door opened, even tho the label on the door said closed, you walked in while pulling Christian with you, the Canadian-American still in a black, glitery suit and tie from the dinner he had to go to with his mother, Lisa, earlier in the day.

Casually walking through the dark and empty restaurant with a flashlight you've grabbed from your backpack, you just did your life with Christian following you, the celebrity absolutely not convinced for now.

Christian's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the place. It was... Cheap looking. Way less classy-ish like all the restaurants Christian had stepped in. He never had junk foods in his whole life such as pizza, burgers, or even beef sandwiches like the ones that were made innthis restaurant. It was full of grease, of bad sugar... His mother always told him that cheap food were absolutely not allowed for him, that it wasn't for "people like him and herself".

"What in the world even is that place? It looks so... Cheap. Oh, and this smell of grease is making me sick." The Canadian-American spoke up, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked around with annoyance, his voice sounding arrogant as he walked throught the place behind you.