The campus dance at Gotham High School had completely gone off-script.
What was supposed to be a lively but orderly school event had turned into something else entirely—something closer to a one-man spectacle.
At this point, calling it a campus dance felt inaccurate.
It was far more appropriate to call it Dean Thurston's magic show.
Nearly half the student body had abandoned the designated dance floor and gathered on the open lawn that was originally meant as a resting area. Meanwhile, the main stage—complete with speakers, lights, and carefully planned decorations—looked oddly deserted.
All attention was focused on a single figure standing at the center of the lawn.
Dean.
Students surrounded him in tight concentric circles. The innermost rings were almost entirely filled with girls, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, while the boys were forced to stand farther out, craning their necks just to see what was happening.
It was hard to understand how the girls had managed to squeeze in so tightly without starting a riot.
Since Gotham High began hosting campus dances, this was the first time anything like this had ever happened.
At the very center of the crowd, Dean casually pulled a deck of playing cards from his pocket. He raised his voice slightly so everyone could hear him.
"Alright," he said cheerfully. "I need a volunteer for my next magic trick. Is there anyone here who'd like to help?"
The reaction was instant.
The girls closest to him exploded with excitement.
"Me! Me!"
"Pick me!"
"Dean, over here!"
Hands shot into the air like fireworks. Shouts overlapped. A few students even jumped just to be noticed.
The loudest of them all was Lucy, who stood closest to Dean, her face flushed with excitement. She had already helped with one of his earlier tricks, and the experience had only made her more obsessed.
Dean glanced at her and smiled apologetically.
"I'm sorry, Miss Lucy," he said gently. "I'd love to work with you again—but it's probably better to give someone else a chance."
Lucy froze, then pouted slightly, though her eyes still sparkled.
Dean lifted his gaze and scanned the sea of raised hands. Everyone looked eager. Too eager.
He scratched his cheek, looking genuinely troubled.
"Wow… everyone's so enthusiastic," he said with a laugh. "Choosing just one assistant feels almost unfair."
After a brief pause, he closed his eyes.
"To keep things fair," he announced, "I'll choose completely at random."
With his eyes shut, Dean began to spin in place.
One turn.
Two turns.
Three turns.
The crowd held its breath.
Then, suddenly, Dean stopped.
His arm shot forward, finger pointing straight ahead.
He opened his eyes.
Standing where he pointed was a slim girl with medium-length brown hair, her expression caught between shock and disbelief.
Dean blinked, then smiled.
"Oh—looks like fate made the choice for me," he said warmly. "Ava, would you come over here?"
Ava's face instantly turned red.
She was Dean's classmate—and once, not so long ago, one of his admirers. Though she had tried to act normal around him lately, that didn't mean her feelings had vanished.
Her heart raced as she hurried through the crowd.
"Yes!" she said breathlessly, standing in front of him. "What do you need me to do?"
Dean raised the deck of cards in his hand.
"I'm going to flip through these cards," he explained. "I want you to look carefully and remember one card that you see."
Ava blinked.
"…That's it?"
A trace of disappointment flickered across her eyes.
She had seen how Lucy had been treated earlier—how Dean had borrowed her rose, asked about her favorite color, and even let her hold his top hat.
Dean's own top hat.
Ava had secretly imagined something similar happening to her.
If she could hold that hat, she had sworn she wouldn't wash her hands all night.
But now?
Just remembering a card?
Still, she didn't want to seem ungrateful.
Dean, completely unaware of the storm of thoughts racing through her mind, held the deck in his left hand and placed his right hand on top.
"Ready?" he asked. "I'll start flipping now."
Ava straightened immediately.
"Yes. I'm ready."
Dean lifted the upper half of the deck and flipped through the cards swiftly.
Ava caught only a blur—something black, a spade shape—but before she could focus, it was gone.
"…That was too fast," she said hesitantly.
Dean nodded. "My mistake. Let's try again."
This time, he slowed down just a little.
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh.
The cards flicked past in a controlled cascade.
This time, Ava saw it clearly.
A Ten of Spades.
She locked it into her memory.
"Do I say it out loud?" she asked.
"No," Dean replied immediately, smiling. "Don't say it. And definitely don't let me know."
He shuffled the deck smoothly, his hands moving with practiced ease, then performed a clean Pandora flourish that drew a wave of applause.
Next, he fanned the deck open in front of Ava.
Every card was clearly visible. No overlaps. No tricks—at least none she could see.
"Now," Dean said, "tell me—do you see the card you just remembered?"
Ava leaned in, eyes wide, scanning every card carefully.
Her expression slowly shifted from confidence… to confusion.
She checked again.
And again.
Finally, she shook her head.
"I… I don't see it."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Dean nodded knowingly.
"That's because," he said calmly, "you're looking too closely."
He tilted his head slightly.
"What did I say earlier?"
Before Ava could respond, Lucy blurted out excitedly,
"The closer you look—"
"The less you'll see!" Dean finished.
Then, without warning, he threw the entire deck of cards into the air.
The crowd instinctively looked upward.
And then—
Everything changed.
Across the lawn, the teaching building stood dark and silent.
Then, one classroom light turned on.
Then another.
And another.
Not randomly—but deliberately.
Floor by floor. Window by window.
As the lights spread, a massive shape emerged.
A glowing Ten of Spades—formed entirely from illuminated classrooms—appeared on the face of the building.
The crowd went dead silent.
Then exploded.
Gasps. Screams. Cheers.
No one could look away.
The sheer scale of the trick was overwhelming.
Ava stood frozen, staring at the building.
She was the only one who knew the truth.
"That was the card I saw," she whispered.
Dean turned back to her, spreading his hands.
"Now, Ava," he said gently, "you can tell everyone which card you chose."
Ava suddenly lunged forward.
She wrapped her arms around Dean's waist and shouted,
"Ten of Spades! I saw the Ten of Spades!"
The magic trick was complete.
But the real chaos had only just begun.
The girls around them completely lost focus on the cards.
"WHAT THE HELL, AVA?!"
"Who said you could hug him?!"
"Let go of Dean!"
"He's mine!"
Someone shoved forward.
Then another.
Then another.
"I don't care anymore!"
"If she can hug him, so can I!"
In an instant, the crowd surged.
Dean took a step back, panic flashing across his face.
"Hey—hey—calm down!" he shouted. "Everyone, please don't—"
Too late.
He disappeared beneath a sea of arms and shouting voices.
---
Meanwhile, inside the teaching building—
On the tenth floor, a certain exhausted boy clung to the wall, sweat dripping down his face.
Dick Grayson had just finished running between classrooms, flipping switches, triggering relays, and activating the synchronized lighting setup.
His legs felt like jelly.
He peeked out the window and saw Dean completely buried under a swarm of girls.
Dick's eye twitched.
"…Unbelievable."
He wiped his forehead and muttered bitterly,
"Wasn't I the one who wanted to use magic to impress girls?"
He stared down at the chaos below.
"So why does this feel like Dean's personal fan meeting… while I'm the unpaid technician?"
He sighed deeply.
"This world is unfair."
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