Chapter 88: The Tear Between All Things, Through Which Desire Reaches
I was sprawled in Sophia's VIP suite like a gluttonous dragon atop a hoard of burger wrappers, my third oversized half-pounder disappearing into my maw with primal efficiency. Grease on my fingers, sauce on my lips, and zero shame in my heart.
"Fuck me, why are these so good?" I groaned between bites, voice muffled by delicious meat and existential satisfaction.
Across the room, poor Ronnie sat rigid in a high-backed chair, clutching his cleaning supplies like a nervous altar boy beside a pagan orgy. I'd found him loitering near the kitchen when I went back for burger number two, and I'd forcefully conscripted him into burger-buddy duty.
"Ronnie," I said through a mouthful of beef and what I could only assume was divine sauce, "remind me to tell Sophia her bar chef deserves a fucking raise."
