Is It Weird for a Guy to Apply to a Witch School?

When I finally showed up, I realized it wasn’t lying about being close to my dorm. Location-wise, it was a total win—basically a quick walk away.

I peeked through the big glass dome window out front, checking out the bakery’s setup.

It wasn’t a huge space, but it didn’t feel cramped either.

Cake racks were lined up like a little army, showing off breads and pastries in their prime—golden crusts and fluffy tops practically calling my name.

It was snug but neat, like they’d packed every bit of charm into the place.

Bread seemed to be the main event here. While I stood outside, eyeing the goods, one of the guys inside caught me staring.

Her eyes locked on mine, bright and eager, like she was mentally pulling me inside.

Okay, relax, I thought—didn’t expect a full-on sales pitch through the glass.

But here’s the kicker: the place was empty. No customers wandering around, no line spilling out the door. Was it always this dead?

I checked out the two girls inside, both wearing matching aprons—probably the bakery’s uniform. Seniors, for sure, a few years older than me.

Just the two of them, though? Was that enough to run this place, or was the baker busting their butt in the back?

They must’ve noticed me lingering too long, because one of them started heading for the door, grinning like she was about to snag a new customer.

“Hey, a newbie, right? Need anything? We do custom cakes and pastries, and our signature red velvet cake even comes with dorm delivery!” she said, her voice full of pep.

I nodded awkwardly, feeling my face heat up. I wasn’t here to shop—I was scoping out a job. But with the place this quiet, I was already having doubts. Could they even pay me?

What threw me more was how she pegged me as a newbie right away. My witch cloak and badge weren’t anything fancy—same as any senior’s. Was it that obvious? I didn’t ask, though—too shy to get into it.

“Uh, I saw a hiring post on the academy app,” I said, getting to the point. “Are you guys still looking for someone?”

Might as well go for it. Whether they were hiring or not, I wouldn’t know unless I asked. Worst case, the place flops, and I’m back to hunting for another job. No big deal.

“Hiring?” The first girl blinked, then leaned toward her coworker, lowering her voice but not enough to keep it private. “Hey, Yihan, is the manager’s job post still up?”

“Maybe?” Yihan shrugged, sounding like she was guessing. “Should we call her?”

And just like that, they pulled out a phone and started dialing the manager—right there in front of me. Real smooth, guys.

“Sorry about that, freshman,” Yihan said, stepping closer with a friendly smile. “We’re not totally sure about the hiring thing—we’ll check with the boss. But I’m curious: why’d you pick our bakery to work at?”

I shrugged, keeping it honest. “Just need a part-time job before classes start. I’m short on cash, and this place is really close to my dorm.”

“Short on cash?” She tilted her head, eyebrows popping up. “You’re at Witch School—your family doesn’t send you money or anything?”

“Nah, had a big fight with them,” I said, not bothering to dress it up.

It was true. Witch School’s reputation wasn’t exactly spotless—tons of parents flipped out about their kids coming here, like it was a fast track to chaos.

“Oh, gotcha,” Yihan said, nodding like she’d heard that one before. “Well, don’t worry. If the manager’s still hiring, this job’s pretty laid-back. No big requirements, and since we don’t get swamped with customers, it’s not a ton of work.”

I managed a smile, but it felt forced. Was that supposed to make me want the job? A quiet shop didn’t exactly scream “reliable paycheck.”

Unless they were offering decent money, I wasn’t sold. If the pay was lousy, the only upside was the easy hours.

While I was talking with Yihan, the other senior’s phone call finally went through.

“Hey, boss, quick question—are we still hiring? Yeah, there’s a freshman here asking about a part-time job…” she said, her voice echoing across the empty shop.

I heard the manager’s voice crackle back through the line: “Oh, I know about that—I just talked to her. Check her out for me. If she’s cute enough, hire her. Pay her the usual rate, nothing special.”

“Got it, got it…” the senior muttered, hanging up.

I froze mid-chat with Yihan, blinking. Wait—was that call on speaker? Because I definitely caught every word. Cute enough? What’s that supposed to mean? Was I here to work or to be the bakery’s new poster girl?

I mean, sure, after witchification, there weren’t any real duds at Witch School. But if we’re talking serious eye-candy, these two seniors had me outclassed.

With my long hair, I might pull off that “girl-next-door” look, but without it? My face was pretty average—nothing special, just kinda there. They’d be way better at luring customers than me.

“Alright, all good!” the phone-call senior said, spinning back to us with a grin. “The manager’s on board. I’ll grab the pact. Oh, hey, freshman—you’re sure about working here, right? Part-time, I’m guessing? Classes get brutal once the semester kicks in; no way you’re doing full-time.”

“Uh, yeah, part-time,” I said, nodding. Then I paused, because let’s be honest—cash matters. “Can I ask about the pay, though?”

No sense dodging it. If the job paid chump change, I’d rather know now than waste time.

“Hmm… for temps, it’s usually fifteen to twenty-two bucks an hour,” she said, sizing me up. “Got any baking experience?”

“Nope, no baking,” I said straight up. “But I’ve done cashier stuff before—part-time jobs and all.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said, wincing a bit. “Without baking skills, we’d probably start you at the low end—fifteen an hour—”

She didn’t even finish before the other girl elbowed her, cutting her off.

“Hey, what’s that for?” the first senior snapped, rubbing her arm.

“She’s a freshman, come on,” the senior said, dropping her voice but not enough to keep me from hearing. “She’s broke, had a big fight with her family, and you’re gonna lowball her like that?”

“Hey, I’m the one signing off for the manager here!” the other one shot back, huffing. “What if she yells at me for going over budget?”

“Chill, the boss isn’t hurting for money,” the kind senior said, brushing it off. “If she complains, just pin it on me. You really think she’s gonna sweat a couple extra bucks?”

“Fine, but if I catch flak for this, you’re going down with me,” the first senior grumbled, throwing her hands up.

I stood there, watching them argue like they’d been at it for years, and somehow—boom—my pay went up.

I wasn’t even picky; anything that kept me from starving or sleeping on the street was fine by me.

Rent, food, clothes, getting around—the dorm and my last few bucks had that covered. But a raise? Hell yeah, I’d take it.

These two were way cooler than I’d figured. Starter’s luck, maybe?

“Alright, let’s call it twenty an hour,” the first senior said with a sigh, like she’d just lost a bet. “I’ll go grab the pact.” She shuffled off to the back, probably to hunt down some paperwork.

I turned to the kind senior, curiosity nagging at me. “Uh… pact? Don’t you mean, like, a normal work agreement?”

She grinned, leaning in a bit. “Think of it as a beefed-up job pact. You’re in a school of transcendence now, kid. These things hit harder than regular paperwork. Trust me, you don’t want to mess with their binding power—it’s scarier than breaking the law.” Her tone was casual, but there was a playful edge, like a senior showing off what she knows. “Let’s just hope you never find out the hard way.”

I raised an eyebrow. She sounded like she’d seen some action—how else would she know how intense these pacts could get? But it got me wondering. Pacts with real bite, huh? Was that a transcendence-world perk? Now I was kind of pumped to see what’s up.