Post by Ange Keating on Jun 8, 2014 11:00:02 GMT -8
There was no legitimate reason as to why Nathaniel Hartford, a part of the richest bloodline in all of Oscilla, perhaps even the country, was standing in the middle of the Funky Fresh Vegan Restaurant. Especially when the compact building seemed to be plagued with people who thought it was perfectly acceptable to parade around in public in beanies and sandals. Although Nathaniel was halfway convinced the heavy aroma of quinoa and citrus would get to him more than the severely underdressed patrons. Sometimes, in the back of his head, he wondered if it was worth it to leave home—a life he was used to—just so he could rebel against his father’s clutches and take control of his own life. But then he remembered the awful violin lessons and the uncomfortable business luncheons and the severe cheek cramps he’d get from having to smile at the press for an entire hour.
The mundaneness was worth it.
Nathaniel moved closer towards the front counter, a preppy redhead with a tattoo sleeve marring her right arm running the check-in and register. However, his eyes drifted towards the younger female in front of her, laughing brightly as she filled out an application. He quirked an eyebrow, and for some unimaginable, uncharacteristic reason, he felt impelled to follow suit and apply. If only because his days sitting around in the pent house were mildly dull at best and the establishment seemed ridiculously understaffed. Clearing his throat, he approached the counter, mustering as friendly of a slight grin as he could.
“Application please,” he announced, tugging at his suit coat in the process.
“Really?” The cashier chirped. “Of course! Lemme run to the back to get you one!”
Nathaniel only nodded, waiting until the other woman was gone before turning his gaze back on the young brunette. Again, an unfounded compulsion to start a dialogue overwhelmed him before his better judgment could intervene.
“Vegan?” He questioned, curiosity in his tone.