“Your manners are misplaced.” Choso says, breaking an excruciating silence that lingered between the two of you, the bag of food sitting warmly in the palms of his hand as he stared down at it, the scent filling the car entirely.

He felt bad though. The fast food worker simply got the order wrong, there was no need for you to go in there and act rudely to the cashier. Hell, they didn’t even make the food. So why yell at them like it was their fault, let alone do it to anybody? It was rude.

“Why did you do that?” Choso asks you after another moment, looking towards you as you drive the car. The look of guilt is evident on his face, a horrible feeling gnawing at him within himself.