Dinner! (1)

Hugo stood in front of his dorm room mirror, hands on his hips, nodding at his reflection like he had just survived a life-threatening mission.

And in a way, he had. Somehow—somehow—he had made it out of that nightmare shop without ending up as an organ donor.

That alone was worth celebrating. Sure, the suit wasn't exactly what he wanted, but with some strategic adjustments, like maybe wearing sunglasses to avoid seeing it too clearly, he could work with it.

He adjusted the mustard-yellow jacket, smoothed his hair back, and flashed himself a grin. "Not bad, Hugo. Not bad at all."

Then his smile faltered as he actually took in the full picture. The suit was still a crime against fashion.

The lapels were wide enough to land a helicopter, the fit was… questionable at best, and the color?

Oh god. It was still mustard yellow. Hugo had never felt so much like a walking McDonald's advertisement in his life.