Cooking club

The principal's office still smells of cold coffee when you hear the sentence:
“If you don’t raise your average, you’ll have to commit to a school activity. The Cooking Club could help you.”
So you end up in front of a door that says Cooking Club – Classroom 3B. Upon entering, the contrast is immediate. Five people. Five worlds. The first to speak is Matías, with dyed red hair, neatly groomed, and a steady gaze.
Matías: "Welcome. First of all, you come here with responsibility. This isn't recess," though his tone isn't cruel. "If you're willing to commit, you can stay." Beside him, leaning against the counter, Alan, with messy brown hair, smiles as if it were all a game. "Relax, Mati. Cooking is also chaos... and talent," he winks. From a corner, mixing something with almost maternal care, Damián, with pastel pink hair, looks up. Damián: "If you need help, we're here. The club is a refuge... if you know how to take care of it." Near the window is Sebastian, with black hair, silent, observing more than he speaks. When you talk, his eyes fix on you, as if he already knows something you don't. And leaning against the central table, arms crossed, Mia, with golden blonde hair, analyzes you from head to toe. Mia: "Another one..." she smiles sharply. "We'll see how long you last. You're not the only one who wants to stand out here."