Socialite Synonym 소설 & 이야기

On the other hand, the socialites dressed fancily; even small accessories like their hairpins could cost thousands of dollars. Their conversation revolved around the other wealthy families in the circle or the things they wore. Kayla sometimes needed to look up a logo online to know what brand it was, but these people could instantly recognize it and its value with just a glance. Perhaps she was trying to fit into this circle as soon as possible or to avoid being laughed at. She had been on a crazy shopping spree in the two years since she returned.

I was about to sit on the far side of the hall at an empty table, but one of the employees with an earpiece and lots of notes grabbed me and sat me down on the table full of famous models, actors and actresses. I didn’t mind them. What I did mind was… “Simp,” Summer muttered underneath her breath, making a face at me when I had to sit beside her. “What the fuck does that mean?” I asked her in a not so soft tone. “Oh, you must be a millennial.” The woman sitting beside her giggled and said, “Simp is a slang for men who are… um… obsessed with a certain woman or women.” I scoffed and looked at Summer from head to toe, grabbing the nearest champagne flute and said in the blandest tone I could mu

"Sophia—" "Let me finish." She met his eyes, raw honesty blazing in her expression. "I know what people say about me. Gold digger. Social climber. Lucky nobody who trapped a billionaire. And part of me wonders if they're right. Not about trapping you—we both know how this started—but about belonging. I look at your world, Liam, and sometimes I feel like an imposter wearing expensive clothes and pretending I understand which wine pairs with which course."

“You didn’t have to call me out that way in public!” “I know. But, girl, who would ever even believe that Mr. Bianchi is in his forties? That man looks like he’s thirty-three.” “That’s exactly why I touch myself to the thought of him,” the lady confessed with a shameless wink. Nearby, another socialite looked at the pair standing near the corridor. “Seems like we are about to have a new pair of lovebirds in the industry.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively in Isadora and Damon’s direction.

It was quieter here, more refined the music still pulsed but lower, velvet seating curved in elegant circles, and the panoramic windows gave the illusion of floating above the sea. We sank into the couches, the first round of cocktails appearing almost instantly, sweating glasses balanced on silver trays. “This is insane,” Tessa murmured, half dazzled, half critical. “I mean, who throws yacht parties like they’re casual Fridays?” “Rich people,” Sophie answered dryly, raising her glass. “To being rich by association.” We clinked, laughing. The DJ downstairs shifted songs, and within minutes Sophie was tugging at Tessa’s arm. “Up,” she demanded.

He just picked up the glass of alcohol and drank it. Meanwhile, a few women who were all dressed to the nines walked toward them. All of them wore delicate make-up and were richly dressed. They were clearly the socialites from high society. "Mr. Kooper, nice to meet you. You look even more handsome in person." "And Mr. Kooper's temperament is excellent. You looked so honorable just by sitting here." "Mr. Kooper, would you please humor us by drinking with us?" They sat down next to him as they spoke.

"Hi, Adeline! We finally get to see each other again. You're so beautiful." "Thank you." Some of the friends I had met at previous parties also came, and we exchanged compliments that boosted my confidence that had been dulled by Chris and his mother's treatment of me. There were a lot of people there besides us, but I'm sure they were all rich and influential people in the city. Either the son, wife, or family member of a successful conglomerate and businessman or an unknown mistress. I quickly reached for the champagne that the staff had brought around. The drink looked beautiful with a golden glow, but it was lighter than the wine I'd had earlier, which suited the socialite party I was at

After her remark, I couldn't help glancing at her expensive attire. To my surprise, it was luxurious from head to toe. When I still didn't respond, she shook her head and added, "That might help them not end up like Harmony one day, manipulated, deceived, and ruined.” One of the sycophants beside her chimed in when she saw my continued silence. "Exactly. Some people shouldn't have any grand illusions. In Foswood, there are many legitimate socialites, so they need to carefully assess where they really stand.”

She smiled faintly and said, “I know who to contact if I want to visit Marguerite.” “You can count on me, Mrs. Isadora.” And several times, Isadora also engaged in conversation with the other socialites. It had become a familiar sight whenever there was a gathering or event attended by beautiful faces adorned with arrogance. They all accepted others who were their equals and had influence. It wasn't just about their names or backgrounds, but there was a mutually beneficial exchange from their acquaintances.

But now, it felt never-ending. Sophia thrived in this world where she could get attention and praise from random socialites. He, however, felt like he was suffocating. He doesn't need this type of attention. “Come on,” she urged, tugging him forward. Inside, the air was thick with expensive perfume and aged whiskey. Socialites floated around the room, their laughter sharp and calculated. Waiters in crisp uniforms weaved through the crowd, champagne glasses shimmering under the lights. Ethan barely had time to grab a drink before a group of men clapped him on the back, dragging him into a discussion about stocks, investments, and the latest scandals among the elite.