“Pick that up. You’re a bit of a trash person, aren’t you? That’s where you come from.”
The silence inside Lusso, Manhattan’s most famous fine dining restaurant, was broken. The sound of a wine glass breaking was like thunder. Leo stood, wearing his $5,000 suit, looking intently at Andres.

Andres, wearing a black apron, slowly knelt down. He smelled the expensive Cabernet Sauvignon that had spilled on his shoes. He felt the warm gaze of his former classmates at the high school reunion. Laughter. Murmurs.
“Once a trash boy, always a trash boy,” Leo added, throwing a dirty napkin in Andres’ face. “Clean that up. Maybe I’ll give you a tip in coins, like I used to give your garbage collector dad.”
Andres’s fist clenched. He wanted to punch. He wanted to scream. But he took a deep breath. He looked at the CCTV camera to the side.
He smiled. A smile that didn’t reach the eyes, but the smile of someone holding the ace.
“I will follow, Sir,” Andres replied calmly.
Little did Leo know, this would be the last time he would set foot in the Lusso. And this would be the last time anyone would step on him.
The smell of New York at dawn came back to Andres’ memory. A mixture of stale food, wet cardboard, and diesel fumes.
He was still a child, and Mang Bert and Aling Sabel were already roaming around Queens. While other children slept on soft beds, Andres carried a black trash bag. His parents were garbage collectors—immigrants who sacrificed everything for the “American Dream.”
“Son, study hard,” Mang Bert would always remind Andres as he wiped the dirt off his cheek. “So that one day you won’t have to touch this garbage again.”
At school, he was the target of temptation. Leo, the son of wealthy Fil-Am owners of a shipping company, was the instigator. He was called “Garbage Boy.” He would put banana peels in his locker.
But Andres persevered. He had a dream. And he had Tita Lydia—his nurse aunt who paid for his school expenses.
He was valedictorian when he graduated from High School. The family’s joy was sky-high. But it was quickly taken away.
A call from the hospital. Cardiac arrest. Aunt Lydia is dead.
Andres’s world crumbles. Along with the mourning comes fear. What about college? His parents’ salary is not enough to pay the rent on their small basement apartment.
“I’m going to quit, Dad,” Andres said one night, while looking at an acceptance letter from a prestigious university. “I’m going to go full-time into construction.”
“Don’t,” Aling Sabel insisted. “No matter what happens, keep going.”
That’s where Andres’ real war began.
In the morning, a student. In the afternoon, a tutor for the children of Aling Perla, an Asian grocery owner. At night, a food delivery rider in the middle of a snowstorm.
Once, he delivered to a frat house. Leo opened the door.
“Hey! Garbage Boy!” Leo shouted to his friends. He took the pizza and threw the $1 bill into the mud. “Keep the change. Maybe you can buy soap.”
Andres picked up the dollar. It hurt. A bone-chilling pain. But with each insult, Andres was adding a brick to the wall he was building. The wall of his success.
A recommendation brought him to Lusso.
“We need a waiter who can move quickly and has a sharp mind,” said Mr. Santos, the elderly owner of the restaurant.
Andres accepted the job. Lusso was a different world. Here, a steak cost his father a month’s salary. But he wasn’t jealous. He observed.
He listened to Wall Street bankers talking while he was carrying water. Stock market. Crypto. Real estate trends.
The tips he earned—sometimes $100 a night—he didn’t spend on luxury. He saved them. He studied the stock market on an old laptop. He invested little by little. Lose. Win. Lose. Win. Until he learns the game.
In five years, Andres’ savings have grown beyond anyone’s expectations. He’s bought a decent house for his parents. He’s stopped them from trashing.
One night, after closing, Mr. Santos called him.
“I’m old, Andres. I want to retire in the Philippines. I’m going to sell the Lusso.”
Andres’s chest was pounding. He knew the business. He knew every corner of the kitchen. He knew the name of every regular customer.
“Mr. Santos,” Andres said with a trembling but confident voice. “I’ll buy it.”
Mr. Santos laughed, thinking he was joking. But when Andres laid down his bank statement and business plan, the old man fell silent.
“Where did this come from?”
“For hard work. And for listening to your customers.”
Because of trust and loyalty, Mr. Santos bought the restaurant for less than market value, as long as Andres took care of the employees.
Andres became the owner. But no one knew. He wanted to stay grounded. He often wore an apron to help with service when it was busy. He wanted to feel the pulse of the business.
Until tonight.
The High School Reunion. Class of 2018.
Leo was the organizer. Of course, he held it at Lusso to show off.
When he saw Andres wearing an apron and serving drinks, Leo was as happy as if he had won the lottery.
“Look who we have here!” Leo shouted into the mic. “Our Valedictorian! Just a waiter now!”
Laughter.
All night, Leo gave him orders. He asked for an extra napkin. He replaced the fork because it was “dirty” even though it was sparkling. And finally, the wine was spilled.
Andres was now looking at Leo, who was grinning after being humiliated.
Andres stood up from his knees. He brushed his pants.
“Are you done, Leo?” Andres asked. The “Sir” at the end was gone.
Leo frowned. “What did you say? Wow, you’re so brave. Manager! Where is the manager?”
The manager, Sarah, approached. Sarah was pale, about to apologize to Andres, but Andres raised her hand.
“Sarah,” Andres said. “Please give Mr. Leo the bill. Full price. No discount. And include the cleaning fee for the
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