Dream Academy Host Club

Chapter 1. The Golden Gates of Delusion

The gates of Dream Academy weren't just made of gold; they were made of judgment. The universe opened thousands of oppotunities, hobbies and wishes for the students who could pay millions. It's understandable for someone who came all the way from Jeju to become a scholar in the most prestige school here in Seoul.

HAECHAN-known to the registrar as Lee Donghyuck, but known to his bank account as "Barely Hanging On"-trudged through the marble hallways. He was a commoner. He used coupons. He knew the exact price of a single egg. And currently, he was looking for a place to study where the air didn't smell like 700,000 KRW cologne.

"Music Room #3..." he muttered, pushing open the heavy rosewood doors. "Finally. Peace and-"

BAM.

Pink rose petals exploded from the ceiling. A literal spotlight-where did they get a spotlight?-blinded him. A chorus of angelic voices seemed to hum a refined pop-jazz melody out of nowhere.

"Welcome," a voice purred, smooth as expensive silk.

Haechan blinked. As the glitter settled, he saw them. Six boys, lounging on velvet Victorian couches like they owned the concept of beauty itself.

In the center sat JAEMIN. He was currently holding a hand mirror, tilting his head at a 45 degrees angle to catch the perfect lighting.

"Oh? A lost lamb?" Jaemin gasped, his voice dripping with dramatic flair. He didn't look at Haechan; he looked at Haechan's reflection in his mirror. "Jeno, look! A commoner has graced us with his presence. Is my hair okay for a commoner to witness? I feel... radiant."

JENO, sitting beside him with a clipboard and a stoic expression, didn't even look up. He simply reached out and adjusted Jaemin's collar for the fifteenth time that hour. "You're glowing, Jaemin-ah. Your ego is currently visible from space. Focus."

To the left, a high-pitched, dolphin-like cackle shattered the elegance. CHENLE was sitting on a pile of silk cushions, being hand-fed imported grapes by JISUNG.

"Jisung-ah! The commoner looks confused! Is he broken?" Chenle giggled, kicking his legs.

Jisung, a tall boy who looked like he could crush a boulder with his bare hands, simply peeled another grape with surgical precision. "He's just poor, Chenle. Don't stare. It's rude."

"I AM NOT BROKEN!" Haechan snapped, his commoner pride flaring. "I was just looking for a desk!"

"A desk?!" RENJUN suddenly shrieked, popping up from behind an easel. His hair was slightly disheveled, and he was clutching a paintbrush like a weapon. "You want a desk in my sanctuary of aesthetic perfection? Do you see the color palette of this room? Your backpack is a shade of brown that hasn't been fashionable since the Great Depression! It's offending the curtains!"

Haechan backed away, hands up. "Okay, okay! I'm leaving! I'll just-"

He turned to bolt, but his foot caught on the edge of a stray electrical cord, likely for Jaemin's vanity lights. He stumbled forward, directly toward a towering, 14,000,000 KRW hand-carved chocolate fountain.

"Watch out!" a voice yelled.

A blur of limbs intervened. MARK, the club's "Clumsy Prince," had tried to lunge forward to save Haechan. Instead, Mark tripped over his own designer loafers, collided with Haechan, and sent them both crashing-not into the fountain, but into a massive display of white lilies.

CRASH.

Silence fell.

Mark was sprawled on top of Haechan, his face inches away. For a second, the "clumsy" act vanished. Mark's eyes widened as he took in Haechan's face-the honey-gold skin, the sharp eyes, the perfect curve of his lips. Mark's heart did a frantic drumroll against his ribs.