Baroque (adjective): overly decorated

Clinking, clinking, clinking, the champagne glasses glistened with the light of the chandelier as guests exchanged wishes and blessings. The smiles on their faces were as bright as the women’s golden necklaces and the men’s diamond watches. A waiter in black and white swished through the crowd, carrying a plate of crab palmiers.

The young woman declined when he offered one.

She held her wine glass like her hand had melded into it, as if its weight would make up for the empty feeling around her bare wrists. Silently, she watched the distorted figures of the guests through the curve of her glass cup, unwilling to join their conversation. Unwilling to let them see the simple fabric of her dress.

Unwilling to recognize that she came from a different world.

She could hear snippets of discussion as elegant pairs and groups walked past her. They spoke of their old days in prestigious colleges, of hiring private tutors for their children, of golfing with some company’s CEO next weekend—topics that she never knew she had to learn.

Screw being the neurosurgery department head.

The young woman quickly excused herself from her promotion party and hurried home. As soon as her purse hit the floor of her house, she was at the microwave, warming a cup of instant ramen for dinner.