once again. || w/ riya
for @sgnxriya!!
another fucking debutante gala? how many of these things can possibly be going on in a month? it feels like every week at this point he’s being shoved into one of his crisp, expensive suits and forced into a clean, marble ballroom as high society aristocrats with diamond-encrusted fingers swan around him, clucking about absolutely nothing (yet somehow finding anything and everything absolutely hilarious, as they always tend to do). jian swirls his champagne gently around his flute and sweeps a steely gaze across the sea of perfect, miserable faces that he feels will drag him under and drown him at any moment.
he’s interrupted by a presence at his elbow, tall and imposing, like a cold, dark cloud washing frigid air over him, and then a sharp tap on his shoulder. he turns to look at his step-father, who’s as tight-lipped and firm around the eyes as always; it’s his signature look at these events, a kind of ‘man-with-power’ air, he thinks it’s supposed to be.
“jian. i’ve just been speaking with mister lahiri... a respectable lawyer, i think i told you about him, and his wife? anyway, he’s been telling me about his daughter, a young miss riya, a girl about your age. i think it’s best that you go find her and make nice.”
jian wants to roll his eyes so hard that they burst like bubbles in his skull, but he squeezes his teeth shut and offers the man another hardened gaze. jian knows what it means when his father claims it best for him to do something, or to meet someone - it roughly translates to “find them, make friends, flirt with them, do whatever it takes to get in good with their family so we can leech off of their wealth and reputation, and do it quickly before i set your sister on you to make your life a living hell”. roughly, anyway.
“okay. do you know what she looks like?”
“she’s not from korea, that’s all i know. that should narrow it down a little bit.”
“...okay.”
so he knocks back his champagne and sets off into the crowd. oddly enough, it doesn’t take him long to spot the girl he thinks his father means by the time he reaches the other side of the hall. he’s momentarily stunned by her; her elegance, her beauty, such a soft and far-away look like a princess gazing out of the window of a tall, lonely castle tower. he’s almost in front of her before he realises and he clears his throat, offering a hand toward her.
“can i get you a refill on your drink?”
