The headache Krystal had been trying to suppress turned out not to care about whether or not it was wanted. After the interview, she was plagued with a burning, palpitating pain in the head, from the back of the skull all the way up to the top of her head. 
After leaving the office, she immediately made her way to L'Étoile, one of the restaurants near the Rilex Internationals' Headquarters. Her driver put on his favourite song, which she knew word for word by now. It was agonizing to hear it with a headache like this. 
"Turn it off, please," she said icily, when the song continued to play. Her driver shot her a look in the rearview mirror, but obeyed nevertheless. The car eventually stopped. 
"Thank you, Mr. Lewis," Krystal greeted, as she got out of the car. Her uber-driver nodded respectfully and drove away, only to return again when Krystal had had enough and was ready to go home. 
She turned to face the restaurant. The name was written in curly, lightened letters above the entrance. Underneath, also shining brightly, were five golden stars, indicating the restaurant's exquisite quality in food. It was her favourite place to dine and by now she had automatically a place reserved on her name at Friday evenings. 

When she walked in, Krystal was greeted by the excited employees. Each of them bore a smile that almost looked real. Pearly white grins never faded off of their faces, which made Krystal feel more annoyed than pleased. With their white blouses tucked in their black pants, held up by a belt, and their feet stuck in shiny black shoes, they danced like figure skaters through the tables, bringing some drinks here and some food there. The men wore bow ties and the women were allowed to keep the upper button open, showing just their thin, sharp collar bones but left the rest to the imagination of the wealthy customers. 
The smell of luxurious food and lavendel came to welcome her when she walked through the wardrobe to the front desk. Almost immediately someone of the staff came running down, meeting her with a bright smile. It was a tiny girl, probably just out of puberty. She had her hair in a loose bun and her wide, genuine smile revealed that she probably just started working here, or had a lot of perseverance when it came to her trust in humanity. 
"Miss Jung, we have your table ready!" she chimed, her voice as sweet and tingling as bells on an early Christmas morning. Krystal despised her already. 
She nodded curtly and followed her. As she was walked to her table, Krystal noticed the edge of her blouse was sticking out of the girl's pants. It was a small detail, a small flaw in the perfectness that the restaurant strived for. Krystal immediately felt dissatisfied, as she always was when small imperfections occurred. Did she not strive for the very best? Anyone else should too. 
The girl brought her to her table and handed her the menu before she could even sit down. 
"Or will it be the usual?" she asked me with raised brows. Krystal shook her head as she took the menu from her hands, a little rougher than she had intended to. Krystal decided it did not matter. 
"I wish to look first, thank you very much," she said, already feeling my annoyance rise with the new young adolescent. "I do like to have a bottle of red wine."
"On my way, Miss!" the girl sang. She darted off towards the bar and Krystal had to suppress the urge to massage her temples. 
She opened the menu and looked at it like she didn't know every single thing that was on the card already by heart. Her eyes followed the letters and read it all again whilst she tried to decide whether or not she should indeed choose her usual choice: the Australian Short Rib, dressed in Worcester sauce with roseval potatoes and vegetables at the side. It was a dish Krystal looked forward to every week, as she only ate once at L'Étoile. Even after a while, it did not bore, as many things in life did after repetition. 
But she did not feel like it tonight. Perhaps it was the change of waitress, or the fact that her blouse had not been tucked all the way in her pants, but she felt off. Maybe it was just the weekly downer and it just happened to be on the night she went out for food or perchance it was something else, but she did not want her steak tonight.

That is when the waitress came back with her bottle of wine. Krystal handed her back the menu with a polite smile and said: "I would like to have the Carrot-Ricotta Quiche, please." 
The girl eagerly wrote it down on a piece of paper, nodding as if agreeing with her choice. 
"On my way, Miss!" she said again, before running off to tell the kitchen staff what she wanted. Krystal watched her go. Her blouse was not tucked into her pants yet. 
She poured the wine and decided that she would have the whole bottle tonight. 

A: The second chapter! I'm sorry it's a bit short. I wanted to include a piece of the following scene, but I couldn't find a nice break to split the chapter up in two. I decided to just leave it and give you guys a long (3500+) chapter next Monday! I am also getting more and more excited about the story, as I am currently writing the first scene Krystal meets Amber! I'm excited to show you guys, just bear with me and the story! Just view this little chapter as the tip of the ice berg of Krystal's personality in this story.