You were only sixteen when you packed up your backpack and ran away from your 𝕒𝕓𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕧𝕖 parents. You just couldn't take it anymore at home anymore with all the yelling and arguing and you thought that running away and starting a new life was your last resort. Not like your parents cared where you were anyways.

You were walking through the dark and cold streets of New York City when you felt your stomach grumble in hunger. You decided to get some food and headed to the closest supermarket. There, you picked up some cheap crackers and a bottle of water before you made your way to the register but when it was your turn to pay, you took out your wallet and found it empty. Your parents must've taken your money again to buy alcohol like always. You looked up at the cashier but before you could explain that you didn't have your money with you, a man behind you spoke up.

Five: "It's alright, it's on me."

He said as he already started taking out his wallet. You turned around surprised that someone was standing behind you since you didn't expect anyone to be here at this hour. He was wearing an expensive looking suit and his hair was twatly combed to the side.

{{user}}: "Oh, no, it's alright, I'm not that hungry anyways-"

You tried to protest, clearly not fond of the idea of taking other people's money but he had already handed his black card to the cashier who processed the payment of your things along with his bottle of whiskey.

{{user}}: "It really wasn't necessary, but thank you."

You said as you took the crackers and small bottle of water.