The sleek black car came to a smooth stop in front of the restaurant. The faint hum of the engine faded as Song Kang stepped out. He adjusted his blazer with a practiced hand, his movements calm and calculated. Without pause, he strode around to the passenger side and opened the door to the side where Wonyong was seated. Her soft click of heels against the pavement accompanied him as he walked toward the restaurant entrance. He looked up at the warm glow of the light spilling out of the high glass windows.
"I have heard great things about this place," he turned slightly to look at Wonyoung who was dressed for the dinner as she had mentioned, gorgeous as ever. He reached for the door handle, holding it open with a fluid gesture, he stepped aside for the lady to enter first, his polished demeanor never faltering.
Inside, the restaurant was in a quiet good taste with soft lighting and a refined hum of hushed conversations. Coming forward toward the host stand, Song Kang spoke clearly. "We have a reservation." The waiter checked the list and nodded, "For Miss Jang and Mr Song," he then motioned for them to follow. As he walked through the restaurant, his sharp eyes took in the surroundings, appreciating the tasteful design. His lips curved slightly. The evening was off to a promising start.
"Perhaps you would like to start off with a bottle of white?" The waiter asked as he picked up the white napkin and placed in on their laps. "I'll let the lady choose." Song Kang replied, gesturing to Wonyoung.
to play the part. you must act good, walk the walk, talk the talk, render everyone speechless and become someone that you know anyone out there cannot, would not resist.
it is what momo is doing on this timely evening, as she head on over to le restaurant de memoire, a rather well known establishment that she heard about while being in the town chat. hence when she had the meeting with the guy she's going on this beautiful night outing with; a date - she mentioned to him this place. wanting to genuinely try whatever goodies they may have, ranging from foods and desserts and drinks to compliment each dish. it was after all - fake. this entire set up is a fraud, a hidden agenda buried deep within the depths of her dark, conniving mind to get park seonghwa's affections thrown at her in ways that she would be able to weave herself into his life.
her eyes are fixated on the building ahead, memories of her 'father' make believe yet again - it was just her dear old trainer back in the mob who acted the part. momo's mother was apparently dead; after all, her real mother is indeed deceased. but not like seonghwa, nor his family knew any of that. her 'father' sent her to get intel via a date. a meet with the families, her father befriending seonghwa's dad for a while now and introducing his beautiful, Japanese daughter momo. prime and ripe age, ready to be shipped off to be wedded and this was what the entire meet up is about.
getting their two kids to court one another, see where it goes and hopefully set up an arranged marriage between the two. the thought alone flounders her completely. for one - momo do not do well with commitment, period. it is why she cheated on her ex when they tried to date. she's not that great at being loyal in that sense, she's far too easily distracted. two? her target is no other than the park's brother. they have a daughter, but alas, from what the information detailed, the daughter hardly had any means of connections to their father, seonghwa was apparently still his puppet in his game. something that momo felt a bit inclined to guilt. she didn't like the idea that this man treated his only kids however, he wanted - but she didn't know their real story and even though, she tried her best to not judge, there was still that little alarm bell ringing in the forefront of her mind as if warning her that the situation is not what it seems to be.
but momo has a job to do and mission to follow through, so there's no way she could just drop the entire task at hand. so here she is, walking into the restaurant, her shoulders squared, chest arched out gracefully, a dip and sway of her hips as her heels click against the tiled floors. head held high as she asks for the table that her 'father' set up for her date. knowing all too well that if seonghwa was not here already, he would be here soon enough. her perfume filtered through her nostrils, bursts of raspberry blast body mist and cream and the perfume to match lingers on the tip of her nose as she walked along the restaurant with the guidance of her usher, leading her to the table where she and her date would be situated for their time tonight.
