the perfect storm

she defines herself by what she owns. louis vuitton, prada, versace. the brand name is hidden, but her pride in it never, as she flaunts her wealth with each stride down the street. and then she buys more. an addiction, it has become. a way to feel sane. she understands that you can’t survive the material world without embracing it, and so she does exactly that. the money her parents put in her bank account is given good use, and she learns to succeed without working a day in her life. it provides arrogance, a feeling of power among those that weren’t so fortunate. she doesn’t know any better. she only understands is that nothing mends your breaking soul like the newest edition of jimmy choos. 

A personal mood board 

              life at THE BURNOUT,  was just as it usually was— crazy, fast, and fun.  his team of cooks and servers and bus boys were all a dream to have around, and the kitchen always had enough stress to keep them going, but not have knives flying.   Luke, of course, was running around all night, cooking dishes, speaking to people, signing papers, making calls. By the time the place actually closed, around  one am,     his hostess came back, telling him there was a guest, wanting to speak to him.    of course, he’s nervous, hoping everything was okay,  but he held a grin as he walked to the table, the place dark, and only a few people harboring in his beloved restaurant.         “   hey.   “  he starts, drying his hands on his apron.         “   everything alright tonight ?   “

She had been at the restaurant for an hour, waiting for close since none of the servers seemed knowledgeable enough to answer her questions. When the man approaches her, her eyes widen in surprise. “ You’re the co-owner of this place ? Wow, I have to admit I was expecting some horrendous looking middle-aged guy. ” Her words are put on pause to gesture towards the empty seat across from her. “ Care to sit down ? I have a few questions. ”