He glanced at the driver, waved him away without saying a word, and walked into the convenience store with a slightly unsteady gait, under the driver's worried gaze.
He tried to suppress the churning in his stomach, selected some snacks, paid for them, and carried them out. Halfway across the road, he stumbled and fell.
From the time he was a child, he had never felt so embarrassed. In the moment he lay on the ground, a strange heat welled up in his eyes.
The driver rushed over, reaching out to help him up. Noticing the fallen snacks, he bent down to pick them up, but Steve had already regained his composure. "I can do it myself," he said, his voice as flat and tasteless as plain water.
"Mr. Burton."
"I said I'll handle it myself." His voice turned somewhat sharp, and the driver, sensing his determination, took a small step back. Then, slowly bending down, Steve picked up the various colorful bags one by one.