"Come into the Magic Room, and you will find that nothing is impossible." -Perfect Lover, 183Club


With Corey's help, Adam and Fandango had finally managed to organize the crowd into a squiggly line. As Roman led Seth and Dean past it, girls erupted into screams. Seth turned to bask in them, but Roman and Dean pushed him forward.

"Hey!"

"Stop feeding them, Seth," Roman commanded.

"But—"

"No buts. If we let you stop, you'll never leave. Move."

Seth rolled his eyes at Roman from over Roman's shoulder.

"I saw that."

"How can you even—"

"Go in, Seth," Dean interrupted. "I want my chicken." Seth gave up and did as they asked.

Inside the salon, caterers had just finished putting the final touches on a giant spread of pizza, pasta, and chicken. The air was filled with a savory scent. Dean immediately released Seth's waist and made a beeline for the buffet table.

"Let him have all the chicken," Roman instructed the waiters. Dean staked out the couch he had been sitting on earlier, looking like he was planning to nest there.

"Don't mind me," he mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Roman led Seth to his best chair. "So Seth," Roman began, "how good are you at sitting still?" He ran his fingers through the blond half of Seth's hair and winced.

"Um…" Seth suddenly sounded unsure. "Pretty good?"

"Let me ask that again—how good are you at sitting still and straight?"

"That bad?" Seth squeaked.

Roman grimaced. "Let's start at three hours…"

"I don't have three hours of time to waste," a sharp female voice stated. Swallowing hard, Roman turned to the door. Stephanie McMahon was standing there, arms crossed. Behind her, Adam, Fandango, and even Corey had frozen in the middle of leading their first clients inside. Only their eyes moved, shifting back and forth between their boss and THE boss of the WWE.

"Hang on," Roman murmured to Seth. Adjusting his jacket, he stepped forward to meet her. "Thanks for gracing us with your presence, Stephanie. Of course you don't have to wait three hours—Adam and Fandango can prioritize you." He snapped his fingers.

Stephanie held up her hand. "I don't want them to do my hair. I want you to do it."

Roman looked back at Seth. "But I've promised Seth—"

"Whatever you 'promised' Seth can wait."

"What's going on?" Triple H walked through the doors and put his arm around his wife's shoulder. He smiled genially at Roman.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Seth had left his perch and come up beside Roman. It was barely there, but Roman could hear an edge in his voice.

"I'm getting my hair done." Stephanie was looking straight at Seth with a smirk. "Aren't I, Mr. Reigns?"

Roman was sweating worse than when he'd been nearly mobbed, but Seth didn't flinch. "I was here first. I've been first since 2012. Get in line."

There was a collective "Oooh!"

"Seth!" Roman hissed. Seth ignored him and stepped around him. Stephanie removed Triple H's arm and came practically nose-to-nose with Seth.

"I am the Billion Dollar QUEEN," she retorted, enunciating each word. "And what I want, I GET."

"I'm not giving you ANYTHING." Seth gave her a once-over. "You're past your prime, and no amount of treatment can make you look good."

Roman's forehead was creased now. Beside him, he heard the clank of metal—Dean had risen from his couch, tray of chicken in hand. The entire salon had gone so quiet, they could hear him still chewing.

"You little…" Stephanie hissed.

"What? What?"

"Those Internet theories are right. He's got a death wish." Adam whispered to Fandango.

Dean put a greasy hand on Seth's shoulder as if to pull him back. Roman, on the other hand, found himself staring down the bridge of a rather large nose.

Triple H's voice was menacing. "I didn't come here to deal with a circus, Roman. I DEMAND that you put things in order."

"There's only one way to settle this," Seth was saying.

"You're on," Stephanie responded.

Without warning, they whirled and ran straight at the vacant salon chair. Stephanie got to it first and started to sit down, but Seth bumped her out of the way with his rear.

"They're going to break my CHAIR!" Roman moaned.

There was a click, and the opening notes of a Backstreet Boys song broke the general silence. At the sight of Roman's narrowed gaze, Fandango slowly sidled away from the sound system.

But the music was already doing its job. With intensified vigor, Seth and Stephanie resumed their heated war for the chair. Its arm creaked, and Roman looked as though he was in actual physical pain.

"You will not disrespect me with that hideous rag you call hair!" Stephanie screeched.

"You sound worse than Vickie Guerrero, and you don't dress any better!" Seth tossed his head and flicked his bleached blond hair directly in Stephanie's face. Stephanie's eyes were practically bugging out now.

"Roman!" Triple H roared. Roman completely ignored him—he had been reduced to merely pointing at his chair with a shaking finger.

The music suddenly stopped and was replaced by the whooshing sound of a hair dryer. Everyone turned to Corey, who was holding the hair dryer in question. He seemed surprised, and his green eyes flickered around the room until they settled on Seth.

Something seemed to click in his brain, and he grinned. "Carry on."

In a flash, Stephanie shoved Seth to the floor with a triumphant grin and settled herself in the chair, smoothing her brown hair back. Seth stared up at her, mouth agape. Then he looked at Corey, who had flicked the music back on with a smirk.

"Ro!" Seth whined in desperation.

"Hey, you lost fair and square," Triple H chortled. "Are you going to challenge the rules of Musical Chairs?"

Roman and Dean (still holding onto his tray) went to help Seth up. "He's right though," Dean quipped. "The rules of Musical Chairs are sacred."

"But—Corey cheated!"

Corey had raised his eyebrow dangerously. Roman covered quickly. "You'll be next, I promise," he assured Seth hurriedly. "It won't take long."

"You better do your best," Stephanie commented from behind them. "As long as it takes."

"Come on, you can stay with me." Dean hooked his free arm around Seth's waist. Defeated, Seth leaned against him.

Suddenly, the lights went out. The people in the salon screamed, and Seth grabbed Roman's arm.

Roman groaned. "I'm pretty sure I paid the utilities! Where's my accountant?"

There was a flicker of candlelight up ahead, and a raspy voice spoke.

"Roman Reigns…we're here."