<div style="text-align: center"><div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Ffotos.fotoflexer.com%2Fe9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg&amp;hash=2bb55d4c5e0b7d044515309307f306cb" title="e9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg">
<img alt="e9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Ffotos.fotoflexer.com%2Fe9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg&amp;hash=2bb55d4c5e0b7d044515309307f306cb" data-url="http://fotos.fotoflexer.com/e9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="" title="" width=""/>
<noscript><img alt="e9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="http://fotos.fotoflexer.com/e9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Ffotos.fotoflexer.com%2Fe9fd98bfc7ce86ac747215d573f4bcd9.jpg&amp;hash=2bb55d4c5e0b7d044515309307f306cb" style="" title="" width=""/></noscript>
</div></div><br/><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf">Luca was worried that the taxi wasn't going to be able to get through Midtown traffic, and allow him to arrive at the chosen destination on time. He sat in the back seat for 15 minutes with the traffic at a standstill before he decided to pay the fare before it hit $10. The downside of being a male model in a female dominated industry was the short shelf life of a male model, who was at their prime in their late teens-early twenties. They didn't get paid well, and most of Luca's earnings were paying off the costs of his being flown over from Brazil, the photography, rent at the model's apartment, and additional administrative costs. After all of that was taken out, Luca had $87 to live off of and he had to make every last cent last a week.<br/>
<br/>
Needless to say, an offer to buy him lunch was something he wisely took into consideration, because most nights his meals consisted of Top Ramen and fast food, and Luca really hated the unhealthy, unflavorful cuisine. His Mama's home cooking was sorely missed, so Luca was looking forward to dining out with Marcus. Fleeing the taxicab, Luca ran four city blocks to get to the restaurant but was a lot less sweaty this time, than he had been after the finish of his five mile run earlier.<br/>
<br/>
Taking a seat at the table, Luca was trying to relax so his heart would stop racing in his chest. He noticed that Marcus had just been using his laptop, suddenly finding himself apologizing again. <b>"I sorry, you late for work now? I know the time is um.." </b>he pulled out his phone to look up a word. <b>"bad?"</b><br/>
<br/>
His tardiness didn't seem to faze Marcus, who asked what language he spoke. <i><b>"Português?" </b>Luca</i> answered, with a question at the end. No he was not from Portugal the country, but he spoke a variant of the language. He had slid the menu over for him to take a look at, there was a lot of interesting words on it for him to mangle.</span></span><br/><b><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"></span></span></b><br/><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><b>"Dee..nar. din..nar." </b>he turned the menu over, thinking the prices were soooo expensive. <b>"This cost so much!"</b><br/>
<br/>
Luca was more relieved to see the lunch menu on the other side. <b>"This isss loonch. Not as much cost." </b>he replied, his gorgeous blue eyes scanning over it for the least expensive thing.</span></span><br/><b><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"></span></span></b><br/><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><b>"What is...this?" </b>he showed the menu to Marcus, with his finger pointing to the word 'appetizers'.<br/>
<br/>
The waiter was already at the table asking if they were ready. <b>"I take água..Is no cost, yea?" </b>he tilted his head to look up at the waiter, who was pressing up next to him, asking if he'd come to this restaurant before.</span></span><br/><b><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"></span></span></b><br/><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><b>"No, no."</b> Luca smiled, and shrugged a little as he answered. <b>"I come from Brazil."</b><br/>
<br/>
The waiter almost squealed in delight, and touched his shoulder with a conspirator's squeeze. <i>"Welcome to the Big Apple then. My, they do make them handsome down in Brazil. I recommend the braised halibut."</i></span></span><br/><i><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"></span></span></i><br/><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><i>"</i><b><i>Peixe?"</i></b> Luca uttered, the word fish in Portuguese sounding like pay-shh. Luca still was torn about ordering halibut because it was almost 26 bucks. <b>"I need ..the time, please?"</b> he looked overwhelmed.</span></span><br/><i><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"></span></span></i><br/><span style="font-size: 18px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#bfbfbf"><i>"Oh ...take your time. I'll just be at the next table."</i> the waiter said.</span></span>