Butterfly

f o u r t e e n

"Happy Birthday, Eric," Mrs. Schleyer beamed, pulling her husband for a kiss on the cheek. Today is Dad's birthday, and we're going out tonight so we could celebrate this occassion at Lopez's, a fancy restaurant nearby. Korean themed I think.

It's already past 5:34 PM, and I'm all strapped in and ready to go. Courtney advised me to wear a silky white top and matching skirt. I do feel uncomfortable because my shoulders are bare, and I just want to throw a jacket over me.

A mental laugh burst in me when I saw Courtney sporting a grey dress that hugs her body perfectly, and above the knees like mine. She does have a responsible facade, but on the inside, she's a sultry goddess.

Dad smiled at me, his arm clinging around my waist, "Ah, you look darling, Sydney," He gave me a nod of approval. As someone who gets high grades, I'm very much relieved that this outfit is also an A+ to my father.

Courtney had a cocky smirk on her face, "Told you you should always seek guidance from the queen of fashion," She said, taking out a lipstick, twisting it, then reapplying it to my brims, "You look like a ruler! You don't even look like yourself. You know, rocking that smokey eyeshadow, curled hair, and sparkling lips," She's obviously proud and confident of her work.

"Okay, let's go," Dad ushered, opening the front door so the three of us could walk out of the door.

~~~

The place seemed crowded, people in the finest clothes were mingling with one another, clinking bowls of their kimchi soup appetizer together. For a sudden, I felt overdressed, and embarrassed. When I meant finest clothes, I meant they were wearing simple but elegant clothing. Something I could've worn instead. But right now I just feel like someone from Grammy's.

I shot Courtney a dirty look, "I look like disco duct tape!" I hissed under my breath, my brows meeting, as a waiter lead us to our own table. I thought this restaurant was supposed to be fancy fancy not fancy!

My step-sister wagged her finger before me, "Appearance is key, sister," why does she sound like Cruella De Vil? She sounds like an absolute retard.

We took our seats, the waiter propped up some menus for us. Before I could even lay my eyes on the book-like menu, two other employees of this four-star restaurant set a complementary kimchi soup to get started on.

The waiter gave us a pleased look, "Is there any special occasion for tonight?" He asked, pulling out a little note pad from his back pocket and a ball point pen that clung to his uniform's pocket.

Mrs. Schleyer nodded, her head looking sideways towards Dad, "Yes," a grin split on her face, "It's my husband's birthday today."

A modest look crossed Dad's face, "Oh, no need-" the waiter interrupted him.

"Splendid!" He cheered, writing it down. My father deserved this. He's been lifting our family ever since ever since Mom's death, that he never had time to enjoy himself.

"Sweet Songpyeon (rice cakes), or the famous Yaksik? Another sweet rice dessert?" He lifted his brow about Dad's free cake to commemorate this special celebration.

I answered quickly, "The first one," growing up with Dad, I know he likes songpyeon especially the green tea flavored once, and weirdly the mochi type.

Afterwards, Courtney and Mrs. Schleyer were placing orders for all of us to share. Tteoboki with fish cakes, a side of salad, and small barbecue flavored buffalo wings. All good options.

"Do you want anything else, Sydney?" Dad asked, his eyes not leaving his menu, "We could add some more if you want..." He said kindly.

I shook my head, "No thanks. I think I'll just head to the restroom to freshen up," I excused myself, getting up from my seat, then looked for the bathroom like a headless hen.