AN: This fic was inspired by a conversation with 's WynterWarm12, a.k.a my halfie. The title is taken from the song "Magic Room" by 183Club (my main musical inspiration for this story. The song. Not the band).

Disclaimer: While I do wish I did, I own none of these characters. Not even Seth. Or his hair wouldn't be this tragic today.

"If there is magic in the world, the first thing people will do is to use it to become beautiful." –The Magicians of Love, Episode 1

"You did it! You really did it!" Seth bounced up and down from excitement as he gazed around the large salon with eager eyes.

Roman smirked and smoothed his already-perfect ponytail. "Did you think I was kidding?"

"You wouldn't share your secrets for so long," Seth pouted. "I stopped believing."

"And you'll be the first to, like I promised." Roman reached out and straightened Seth's tie. "Besides, didn't you learn anything from Hunter? If I'm going to share, I might as well profit from it. Best for business."

"This is nice and all," Dean drawled from his spot on one of the white velour couches, "but I still don't get why I have to be here." His blue eyes were sulky behind his gingery curls. "And why I have to be here in this suit."

Roman gave Dean a once-over, seemingly satisfied with his getup. "Come on, Dean. It's my big day. I want my brothers here with me."

"Yeah!" Seth flopped down onto the same couch and nudged Dean with his shoulder, widening his eyes when Dean turned to look at him.

"Fine, whatever," Dean grumbled. "But this is it, alright? I'm not coming in here again." He let out an exaggerated sneeze. "All this hair spray will kill me."

"Wouldn't force you, man," Roman assured him. But Dean didn't catch the devious glint in his eye as the three of them made their way outside for the official launch.

The cheers were deafening when Roman stepped in front of his new establishment with a large pair of scissors. Coolly, he raised a hand to acknowledge the reaction. At the fore of the crowd, Seth whooped as he pulled out his phone and pushed it into Dean's hand. "Quick, record this!"

"Why can't you do your own recording for once?" Dean whined. But force of habit took over, and as he had done for Seth countless times in various gyms, he lifted the phone and adjusted the video settings expertly.

"That's why," Seth replied. "Plus, I have to concentrate on cheering."

In front, Fandango was making his way toward Roman. He paused to flick a stray lock of hair from his eyes and to adjust his shiny blue pants. As some teenage girls at the rear squealed, he poured some smolder into his gaze. Behind him, Adam Rose tossed his shoulder-length hair, tugged at his leather vest, and waved.

"Where's Corey?" Roman hissed under his breath. "Didn't I say that all my hairdressers had to be here on time?"

Adam and Fandango looked at each other and shrugged. "Wasn't he at the Ascension's party last night?" Adam ventured.

Fandango looked at him with disdain. "Don't be ridiculous. And dude, how does the Ascension even know how to party?

"Even weird culty guys have to know, right?"

"They've probably sacrificed him." Fandango sounded appalled. "And turned him into one of the undead."

"I don't really care where he comes from," Roman interjected dryly. "Even if he's been turned into a vampire, he's coming HERE. One of you call him."

"OK OK." Just as Adam hit the call button on his phone, they heard the roar of a motorcycle. Everyone turned to stare as the bike screeched to a stop just across the salon. Corey Graves whipped off his helmet and greeted them all with a scowl. Paying the onlookers no mind, he stomped up to join his colleagues.

After shooting a glare at his employee, Roman faced the audience and cleared his throat. "I had a dream," he announced. "A dream that everyone would be able to achieve beauty." In a swift motion, he released his mane of hair, and everyone oohed and aahed. "For years, my hair has defined the standard of beauty for most people. From today onwards, you will all have the chance to maybe meet this standard." He raised the scissors triumphantly like a championship belt. "Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to the Magic Room." With a flourish, he cut the ribbon to a wave of thunderous applause.

The crowd surged forward, and Seth quickly pulled Dean out of the way and to the side. The four guys in front stumbled back from the sudden onslaught. "Please!" Roman yelled. "Form a line! Everyone will get a turn!"

Seth watched, unperturbed, as everyone tried to arrange themselves amidst a great deal of squabbling and elbowing. Beside him, Dean stopped the recording and slipped the phone back into the inside pocket of Seth's jacket. "Well, guess that's my cue. See ya."

Seth's hand snapped out and caught Dean's wrist. "You can't go yet!"

"Roman said I could!"

"You have to stay until the ceremony is over!"

"It's already over!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is! He's getting mobbed!"

"Whew." Roman's deep voice interrupted their argument. He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. "Whew."

Seth looked at him with wide-eyed concern. "Need a hand? See, Dean, he needs help!" He tugged on Dean's arm.

"Nah, I have the boys taking care of it." Roman inclined his head toward the salon door, where his hairdressers were panicking as they tried to avoid getting trampled. Well, Adam and Fandango, at the very least—Corey had pulled out a shaving blade and was nonchalantly twirling it, forcing everyone to keep a respectable distance from him.

Roman looked back at Dean. "Are you going?"

"Yeah," Dean yanked his wrist out of Seth's grip. "Good luck and everything, man."

Roman clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "OK…if you don't want to stay. That should leave more free food for everyone. Can't remember if I told you, but I got chicken wings. Just for you."

Dean's ears perked up. "Oh." He shuffled his feet. "I could have a few of those before I go."

"You can have as many as you want—that tray has your name on it."

Dean licked his lips. "What are we waiting for? Let's go in!"