Chapter Text
“Four libraries and I still can’t find a quiet place to study,” Will muttered to himself, pacing down the vast halls of the Baltimore Academy. If it wasn’t for his scholarship, he never would’ve been able to come to such a prestigious school; his father worked on the docks, barely making enough for both of them to survive on. He was jarringly out of place in the midst of the wealthy elite of Maryland, from his thrift shop sweater to his untamed, dark, curly locks that poked out any way they pleased. It would’ve been easy to spot him amongst the other students in their perfectly tailored uniforms, if he had been around any of them; they seemed to be too preoccupied by socializing to actually study.
Almost reaching the end of the hall, he spotted an empty music room. Perfect. Music Room 3 was going to be his new best friend.
Or not.
“Welcome!” a chorus of four voices rang, startling Will to fall back against the door he had just closed behind him. He scanned the room, noticing the decor certainly didn’t belong in a music room. Plush couches and tables with clean, crisp tablecloths… what could they possibly be doing here?
“We’re the Host Club,” a heavily accented voice answered his unspoken question. The boy the voice belonged to was sitting in front of the others; his light brown hair was combed neatly to the side, his legs crossed and back straight as if he was a show dog in the ring. Probably a perfect pedigree too. Will’s disinterest was rising quickly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I’ll just get going -“
“No you aren’t,” the lone girl said, grabbing his arm. She threw it around her shoulder, smiling. “You’re that scholarship kid, aren’t you? Will Graham. I heard you’re like, freaky smart. I’m Beverly Katz. Welcome to the club, nerd.”
“Yeah, he’s in our grade,” one of the other two piped up. They seemed to be attached at the hip, though they obviously weren’t related; one was taller with dark hair and a few stray facial hairs, while the other had hair similar to the foreign boy, only lighter. “Pretty quiet though, so I never paid much attention to him. I’m Jimmy Price, by the way, and this is Brian Zeller.”
He shrugged Beverly off of him, trying to scoot back to the door she had tried to pull him away from. “Honestly, I just wanted to find a room to study in, but I see that you guys are busy here -“
Will was interrupted again, this time by the boy with the accent, who was standing mere inches away from him now. There was something about him that made Will uneasy, besides his initial profile of him as an entitled rich brat.
“You are a rarity here, Mr. Graham. I was hoping I would have the honor of making your acquaintance. My name is Hannibal Lecter.” He reached out a hand, gently cupping Will’s face in it, red-brown eyes meeting blue-grey. Will felt a hot blush sear up his neck, hating himself for it. Pushing Hannibal away, he fell backwards, stumbling into a table behind him, eyes widening in horror as he saw a tea set tumble to the floor, hearing the nauseating sound of ceramic breaking against tile.
“Oh shit, wasn’t that the antique tea set we were going to put in the school auction?” Jimmy asked, looking sideways at Brian.
“Yep. We were going to start the bid at nearly half a million bucks, too. Hope you’ve got money stashed under your mattress, kid.”
“W-What?! Um, can I pay you back?” He stuttered, unsuccessfully trying to jam the pieces of a teacup back together.
“You can’t even afford the uniform, Graham,” Beverly chimed in. “What do you think, Hannibal? What’s his damage for the damages?”
Hannibal sat back in his chair, surprisingly amused at the situation. “I suppose you could pay with your body,” he stated, smirking as he watched Will’s eyes go wide. “You’ll be our errand boy from now on.”
Will felt an odd sense of relief, though he certainly wasn’t looking forward to whatever these four had in mind. He didn’t even know what a host club was. He vaguely remembered seeing a show about one once, but it was probably a lot different in reality. He'd have to look it up. Along with ways to acquire half a million dollars overnight. This was not at all what he pictured private school to be like.