The Masquerade INTRO (Ouran Host Club x Reader)

[Name] did not like the Host Club. Mostly it was the concept she hated, but all the airheaded fangirls certainly didn't help. [Name] simply couldn't see why the girls at Ouran were so attached to this, for lack of a better description, glorified male brothel. But yet she still visited every day, just to argue with the hosts about their club, mess with their acts, and annoy the giggling gaggles of girls. It's not that [Name] was a mean-spirited girl at heart. Far from it; she was kind and loyal to her friends, if a bit stubborn. But something about the Host Club rubbed her the wrong way, so she enjoyed arguing her point with its members.

Even so, her friends were a bit surprised when she announced her plans to make an appearance at the Host Club's upcoming masquerade. After all, she had always expressed a pronounced distaste for their events, in particular.

"Listen, guys," [Name] told her friends over lunch, "I know I always say how much this kind of thing annoys me. But I've never actually been to one. And you know how much I hate debating a point I know nothing about. And who could really say? Maybe it'll be awesome." They all shared a skeptical look before bursting into laughter. In [Name]'s opinion, awesome and the Host Club just didn't mix.

But still. She'd have to wait and see.

[Name] grabbed a mask from the basket by the door. Luckily, they had one in [Color] and [Color 2]: her favorites. She put it on and slipped inside with the rest of the crowd, fully prepared for the onslaught of opulence that was practically the club's trademark. And sure enough, the room was glittery and overdone. The fangirls were simply eating it up. [Name] strolled over to the refreshment table for a cup of punch that likely cost more than it should have, and sat down in a chair on the wall. She was here to watch, not to participate.

Which is why [Name] was a bit startled when a host made their way over to her corner of the room. It was several songs in, and all the other girls were dancing. [Name] was fully expecting a smug grin or a snarky comment about the "romance-hater" herself (Tamaki's words, not hers) had joined them this evening.

But instead, this particular host just held out his hand for a dance.