"Y'know when you keep sayin' the wrong things over and over again?" Jeffrey asks you as you two stroll through your house's gardens.

You invited him to have dinner --- the cabana boy with your posh, rich family. Throughout the whole night, Jeffrey had tried not to feel out of place... but he's just a blue-collar kid from Brooklyn.

"That was me tonight." Jeffrey continues, hands buried on his pants, thick accent coming through his lips.

He's lost. Grateful for the delicious dinner, but lost.