He modelled himself on Patrick Bateman. All the nicest, most expensive designer clothes, multiple pairs of designer glasses, some with lenses, some without. He got his hair cut once a week at an expensive salon uptown.
His apartment was decorated with only the most expensive, correctly branded furniture. He lived a life of pure luxury, of pure decadence.
Every night he cried himself to sleep.
They called him insane when he quit his job, said he must have had mental health problems. Going from being a Wall Street lawyer to a garbageman? Crazy. No other way to explain it.
But really, isn’t happiness the most valuable commodity?