An Obnoxiously French Restaurant Near Broadway, New York, Saturday Brunch Time

[suitably_heroic]

This was without a shadow of the doubt the most pretentious, expensive-looking, suits-laden restaurant Atton had ever laid eyes on, let alone entered. He had briefly considered going for some of his Earthside nice-button-ups anyway, but no. There was only one way to approach a place like this: ironically.

So that morning he'd grabbed the rattiest of his old Fandom-era band shirts, an incredibly over the top Megadeth thing, and a pair of jeans. He had now walked into the building wearing said ensemble, ignored all the looks, and informed the guy at the front that yes, actually, he had a reservation.

(Points to guy-at-the-front's sense of professionalism, honestly. If Atton hadn't been Force sensitive he wouldn't have known the man was affronted.)

And now he was there at a table by the windows (the obnoxiously be-curtained windows), slumped in his chair, sipping orange juice from a fancy mimosa glass.

Perfect atmosphere. A+.

[[ for the one in pink. ]]

Comments

[somethingwithturquoise]

"Perfect opportunity to price gouge on bottles of water," Summer mused, with a starry sort 'praise capitalism' look of wonderment that her current get-up practically required as an accessory, then she smirked. "But, yeah, no, great way to catch some unsuspecting ears. Some of those festivals pull in major numbers. I'll try to keep my schede open for it. It's been a while since I hit one, anyway."

[suitably_heroic]

"You just like having the excuse to hit up a less depressing city than Baltimore," Atton joked.

Because it was genuinely nice Summer was investing that much time and interest in his dumb little band project, but saying so aloud would be, like, weird.

[somethingwithturquoise]

"Please," said Summer, without missing a beat and with a pat-ten-ted roll of her eyes, "like I even need an excuse. But..." Here, she gave a lopsided grin. "It's still nice to have one, anyway."