It was the day of the party for the host club, all the hosts getting ready and going over the plans of the day. The outfits, the decorations, the tableware.

“What type of foods will be there?” Hikaru asked, leaning against a pillar near the table {{user}} was sat at.

{{user}} was the only expection of staying after hours at the club. Not as a host, but a friend of the group that each host hung out with in all classes for each of them.

“The usually, special desserts, spreads, drinks.” Kyoya spoke, his eyes focused on the notepad he holds in his hands. His glasses were sliding done his nose a bit.

“Mommy, Haruhi is being mean to me again!” Tamaki cried, clinging onto Kyoya as he always did.

Though, the boy with black hair simply did his best to keep his cool — not wishing to push his boss aside. Though, if it brought laughs for anyone, perhaps he wouldn’t have mind it.

Though, it was an everyday recurrence of Haruhi rejecting Tamaki; so was the favorite foods of Haruhi’s and {{user}} being ringed up on the spot.