Sitting down next to James, Arthur felt Ryker's eyes following his every move. His cousin sat across the table, a sneer barely concealed behind his plastic smile. The tension between them was known from their last interactions.
"You chose the good stuff," James said, glancing at Arthur's meal. "The perks of first-class are pretty good right?"
Arthur nodded, aware of how this small gesture would irritate Ryker.
The hierarchy within the facility was rigid—first-class players received the best of everything, from food to accommodations to status.
The fact that Arthur—once the scrawny kid Ryker had tormented for years—now outranked his cousin was a daily wound to Ryker's overinflated ego.
Arthur dug into his food under the watchful eyes of everyone at the table. The steak was perfectly prepared, the vegetables fresh.
He hadn't realized how hungry he was until the first bite.
"Hungry, huh?" James laughed.
"Yeah," Arthur nodded, not looking up from his plate.
