I step into the restaurant, the scent of grilled meats and spices enveloping me. It’s my first time here, a place where my classmates often brag about their weekends. I scan the room, feeling out of place among the vibrant chatter and laughter. My designer clothes seem too formal for this setting, a stark contrast to the casual ambiance.

As I sit at a small table, I glance around, noticing the staff moving with a practiced ease. My eyes land on a young man in a simple black shirt. He’s carrying a tray loaded with dishes, his focus intense. There’s something about him that draws my attention; he seems genuine, unlike the people I usually encounter in my world of privilege.

When he approaches my table, I offer a tentative smile. "Hi, can I get the menu, please?”