The craving for something new tingled beneath Zeki's skin. After methodically organizing his new room, the call of the metropolis became irresistible. The window, which had once been a portal to a static view, now felt like an invitation to adventure.
"Mom," he said, finding her in the living room unpacking a box of photo frames. "Can I go out for a walk around the city?"
Claudia looked up, a tired but affectionate smile on her lips. "Of course, son. Just don't go too far and don't be long, alright?"
"Okay… Where's Dad?"
"He went to meet his new business partner. I think he'll be back later."
"Got it. I'm heading out then."
"Be careful," she said—the universal warning of every mother.
A genuine smile, rare and bright, appeared on Zeki's face as he walked to the door. He went down the building stairs quickly, almost bouncing, excitement bubbling in his chest. Each step was a move away from the past and toward the unknown.
As soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk, São Paulo hit him with a sensory overload. The noise of traffic, overlapping voices, the smells… And one, in particular, caught his attention. Across the street, a modest snack bar released an irresistible aroma of fresh fried food. His hunger, dormant until then, awakened instantly.
Crossing the street, he pushed the glass door open and was greeted by an attendant with a wide smile and a sharp gaze.
"Hey there, champ! How's it going? What'll it be?"
"Good morning. I'd like a snack, please."
"We've got coxinha, empada, and pastel. What'll it be? The coxinha's really good today." The man—whom Zeki would later learn was named Flávio—pointed to the display case.
"Hmm… I think I'll go with the coxinha."
"Good choice, kid! One top-notch coxinha coming right up. Want a drink with that?"
"No, just the coxinha. How much is it?"
"Five reais," Flávio said, already picking it up with tongs. "But trust me, it's worth every cent!"
Zeki handed over the money, receiving the hot coxinha in return, its aroma promising something delicious. "Thanks."
"No problem! Enjoy, and come back anytime, alright?"
Zeki turned, the door just a step away—his first purchase in the city a small personal success. That's when a voice came from one of the corner tables, filled with mocking disbelief.
"Hey man, five bucks for that tiny coxinha? That math ain't adding up!"
Zeki stopped and turned around. Sitting there was a boy about his age, with a confident, impulsive air—the type who had no filter between his brain and his mouth. It was Gustavo.
"What do you mean?" Zeki asked, immediately on edge.
Gustavo laughed, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Haha, relax, no need to get tense. I'm just saying, with that money you could've bought a pastel the size of your head, you know?"
"Gustavo, leave the kid alone. Mind your own business," Flávio scolded, his smile disappearing.
Ignoring him, Gustavo stood up and walked toward Zeki and the exit. "Just giving you a heads-up, kid. Stay sharp."
Flávio, visibly uncomfortable, tried to fix the situation. "Sorry about that. Don't mind him. Hope you enjoy the coxinha." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "But please, don't stop coming here."
The desperate plea sparked something in Zeki's mind. He looked at the coxinha in his hand—it suddenly seemed much smaller—and then back at the attendant. "As long as you don't try to rip me off again, I don't see a problem," he replied, his tone cold and direct.
Gustavo, who overheard, burst out laughing. "Man, he just charged you five reais for a snack worth two, and it's the size of a bottle cap. Congrats, rich boy!"
Zeki stared at Gustavo, the discomfort of dealing with strangers mixing with the irritation of being made a fool of. "Thanks for the warning, but no need to worry. That money won't make a difference to me."
With that final remark, Zeki turned and left, leaving behind the smell of oil and the tension in the air.
Inside the snack bar, Gustavo watched Zeki walk away, noticing the branded jacket and relaxed posture.
"Look at that… the guy really does seem loaded. Stylish jacket and all that attitude."
Flávio rubbed his hands together, a greedy glint in his eyes. "I knew it! Hit the jackpot. But I guess he won't fall for your trick again, Flávio."
"Mind your own business and get out of here," Flávio grumbled, though a smile soon returned to his face. "But if you get hungry, you can always come eat here."
Outside, as Zeki took his first bite of the coxinha—which, indeed, was much smaller than it looked—his mother's words echoed in his mind: "Be careful."
He looked at the busy street, at the anonymous faces passing by.
"Now I get it," he murmured to himself, the taste of the coxinha mixing with the bittersweet flavor of his first lesson in the big city. Naivety was a luxury he could no longer afford.