Work Text:
Rich girls are pretty, and popular, and influential, and smart.
When rich girls look at their classmates, the ugly and unsightly kids avert their gaze; they know that they are unworthy so they won't steal glances which don't belong to them. When rich girls come into school with a stack of thick, quality cardstock a few weeks before their birthdays, even the proud outcasts pray that one of the invitations will be bestowed upon them. When a rich girl decides that wearing gold jewellery on a Tuesday is tacky, a new rule is silently enforced by the entire school. When rich girls send one of their friends to check the class rankings for them, they simply smile demurely when their top-seven ranking is loudly announced with wonder and awe.
Park Hyorin is pretty, Inhye won't deny that much.
Park Hyorin from Inhye's class is definitely rich. The way she carries herself, the fit of her uniform, the bag she carries to school, the fact that she is dropped off by a sleek saloon car several mornings each week, and the perfume which follows her around signal the girl's wealth. Even without all of that, Inhye wouldn't ever presume to think that they are the same. They might attend the same school and they might be in the same class, but the two of them live in totally different worlds.
That being said, if Inhye is completely honest, Hyorin seems to live in a different world to the one rich girls are supposed to live in.
Park Hyorin might be pretty but she doesn't have a steady group of friends and lackeys. Nobody is interested in her preferences. Her rank is consistently around the middle of the class.
Despite the fact that Inhye would do anything to be reincarnated as a rich girl, she finds herself pitying this one. The pity isn't strong enough to make Inhye say yes.
Inhye drags her eyes away from Hyorin's constantly twisting hands. There is no choice but to look at the apprehension in Hyorin's face as she stands somewhere between honesty and an attempt to hide behind her fringe. See, Inhye doesn't need to feel sorry for this girl. Hyorin's haircuts must cost even more than the rent for the cramped and draughty rooftop apartment Inhye's family lives in.
No pity.
"No. I have to go."
Hyorin's smile falters as she drops her gaze to her feet. Inhye swings her backpack over her shoulder and sidles past Hyorin to leave the art room.
Inhye isn't going to eat lunch with a rich girl. They don't even exist in the same world.
"Who are you going to eat lunch with?" Hyorin asks.
Despite the fact that the question stops Inhye from taking another step forward, it doesn't matter. Who cares whether Inhye has anyone to sit with at lunch? There are enough seats that she can find somewhere.
"You don't need to worry about that," Inhye says. She again makes to leave before she hears,
"What about me? Who am I going to eat lunch with?"
Inhye stops. She quite likes honesty. Inhye has never been able to tell whether rich girls are honest or not. From Hyorin, the honesty seems unusual.
A lot of things about Hyorin are unusual. She isn't a distant sparkle of luxury and opulence. Hyorin isn't so far above Inhye. She is within reach, oddly vulnerable as she stands in the art room with shame on her face. Hyorin twists her fingers into each other anxiously.
Inhye can see exactly why Hyorin might be ashamed. Nobody is around to hear Hyorin asking a question like this but it must still be a fraught moment. Nobody should care whether Inhye has anybody to sit with at lunch but the same can't be said for Hyorin. She is pretty and rich but she doesn't quite satisfy the rest of the criteria for girls like her.
Flaking paint is still stuck to the crevices of Hyorin's fingers. She is still looking down, her fringe obscuring her eyes. She shouldn't have noticed that Inhye is looking hard enough to notice something like that.
Inhye has always been the girl without anything. Seeing her sisters run themselves ragged only to get dust in return has made her bitter. There is still something interesting seeing a struggle in a person who shouldn't need to put in so much effort.
"I'll sit with you at lunch time," Inhye says. It isn't a promise for every day. It is enough. The gleam of Hyorin's eyes is turned upon her and today feels like something altogether different.