a group of orphaned girls, down on their luck, infiltrate high society in order to live the high life. but the socialites they're trying to trick may very well find a place in their hearts.
a riize apply fic | closed
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La Yeon was a restaurant Solhwi had heard so much about, but one she had never been able to enter. With its two stars in the Michelin guide, there was no doubt even the smallest item on the menu was far out of her budget. Even ordering water there might have made her go bankrupt, and so, Solhwi contented herself with the local, much cheaper restaurants. Food didn't need to be expensive to fill one's stomach.
But now, as she stood in front of its storefront, its name staring her in the face, she couldn't deny she was just a little excited to try the high-end cuisine that had always been inaccessible to her. Though it wouldn't hold a candle to the ever comforting mom-and-pop shops she could go to at any moment, it was certain to be a life-changing experience.
And yes, that was the only reason she'd even accepted to come to dinner.
As always, Yuhwa led the group with a hesitant step, her ankles wobbling in her unusually high heels. She did not even have to push the large glass doors open — an employee did so for them, welcoming them with a deep bow they were more accustomed to giving themselves. The inside, though dressed in neutral colors and drenched in a refined air of simplicity, oozed luxury from every wall and every light. The tableclothes on the table were a simple white, but the weight and shape of the fabric indicated it was no leftover scrap. Even from where she stood, Solhwi could without a doubt guess the chairs would be the most comfortable she'd ever sat on. It was all too tempting to jump in the first she saw.
But first, Yuhwa was directed to the maître d', a greying man who stood pin-straight despite his age. He wore an immaculately ironed tuxedo, a more elegant outfit than even they, as guests, wore. This was nothing like the nightclub they'd gone to last week, filled with glitters and lights and opportunities to flash money at anyone who might be lower on the ladder. This was unspoken, subtle sophistication. The type of wealth one carried through their veins, rather than in their wallet.
"Good evening," Yuhwa greeted with her most elegant voice. "We are guests of Mister Osaki Shotaro."
The man nodded softly, his head barely moving. "If you'd please follow me."
As he led them through the restaurant, Solhwi let her eyes wander around the already occupied tables, sneaking glances at their food. The dishes were not served in as generous portions as the restaurants she was used to, but she imagined they were only a fragment of a terrifyingly, exhilaratingly long course. Her hand on her stomach in an attempt to muffle any incoming grumble, she followed the group out of the main room, and into a corridor to the side.
