Something About Us

Starlight Entertainment boasted a diverse and vibrant roster: four established groups, each a symphony of three to five distinct personalities; fifteen talented actors, their faces gracing screens across the nation; and ten eager trainees, their dreams shimmering in their eyes. Add to that the producers, managers, trainers, and backup dancers, and the company's extended family swelled to nearly forty members.

Scheduling conflicts were inevitable. Some actors were already committed to film shoots or theatrical productions, their calendars inked with engagements weeks or months in advance. However, a few, their commitments permitting, planned to join the festivities after completing their prior obligations, ensuring a dynamic mix of attendees.

Once Heather and the others arrived at the resort, a sprawling oasis of tranquility, they were directed to their designated rooms. The resort, nestled amidst lush tropical foliage, exuded an air of relaxed elegance. Cobblestone pathways meandered through meticulously manicured gardens, leading to a cluster of charming villas, each painted in pastel hues that mirrored the vibrant sunsets. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and blossoming frangipani, a heady mix that instantly soothed the senses.

Their room was spacious, a haven of cool, calming colors. Two plush double beds, draped in crisp white linens, dominated the space, each flanked by a polished wooden bedside table adorned with delicate seashell lamps. A small, round table and two comfortable wicker chairs nestled in a corner, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lamp. A flat-screen TV hung on the wall, its dark surface reflecting the room's interior like a still, black mirror. Dave's crib, a cozy nest of soft blankets and playful mobiles, sat between the two beds, its gentle rocking mechanism promising peaceful slumbers. Baby bottles and a tin of milk formula rested neatly on the table, a testament to the careful planning that had gone into their stay.

Heather was already lying on the bed, the soft, quilted duvet covering the lower half of her body, her eyes glued to her phone screen. "This side's yours," she said, patting the empty space beside her on the bed. Her voice was casual, but a hint of anticipation lingered in the air.

"Mn," Rhys replied, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the serene ambiance. He walked to his side of the bed and sat down, his shoulders relaxing as he settled into the soft mattress. "What are you doing?" he asked, glancing at Heather's phone.

"Don't disturb me, I'm playing," Heather said, her voice laced with playful annoyance. She turned her back to him, her fingers flying across the screen.

Rhys, intrigued, moved closer to her and peeked over her shoulder. The screen displayed the familiar, colorful blocks of Tetris. Heather's fingers flew across the screen, her eyes narrowed in intense concentration. The Tetris blocks were falling at an alarming speed, their shapes blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors. Rhys, in a playful attempt to distract her, blew gently on her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"Don't!" Heather exclaimed, her fingers slipping, causing a cascade of blocks to pile up. "Argh! I hate you! I just needed a few more points, and I would have beaten my top score!"

Heather pinched Rhys's hip out of anger, her touch sharp and playful. "Ow, ow, ow!" Rhys exclaimed, rubbing the spot.

"Tsk," Heather said, giving him a mock glare. "Whatever. I'm going to change." She stood up, grabbed her swimsuit and cover-up from her bag, and went to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

Marjorie and Tony chuckled at Heather's reaction, their eyes filled with amusement. "She's still hot-headed when you tease her," Marjorie said, shaking her head with a smile. "By the way, honey, what about the food? We didn't drop by a grocery or a convenience store on the way here."

"There are already people assigned for that task," Tony replied, glancing at his watch. "They should be arriving soon."

"I see. Then I'll help with the cooking. Can you take a look after Dave instead?" Marjorie asked, her eyes filled with affection for her son.

"Sure," Tony replied, his gaze softening as he looked at his sleeping son.

Marjorie turned to Rhys, her eyes twinkling. "Rhys, why don't you go around the resort and swim with Heather while we prepare the food?"

"Okay," Rhys replied, nodding.

When Heather emerged from the bathroom, she was radiant, her swimsuit accentuating her figure, her cover-up swaying gently as she moved. Rhys stood up, grabbed his change of clothes from his luggage, and went into the bathroom. Once he was changed, they both went out of the room. Rhys knocked on the next door, and after a few minutes, Emmett opened the door.

"Yo. You guys have already changed?" Emmett asked, his eyes widening. "We haven't even finished unpacking yet." He opened the door fully so they could pass.

Inside the room, the guys' clothes were a chaotic mess on the bed, a testament to their hasty unpacking. Two opened suitcases lay on the floor, their contents spilling out like a colorful explosion. An underwear was even hanging on one of the lampshades, a comical sight that made Heather avert her gaze.

Henry's face flushed crimson as he saw his underwear dangling from the lampshade. "Oh my god! Sorry!" he exclaimed, lunging towards it and hiding it behind his back.

"It's okay," Heather said, turning away, her cheeks slightly flushed. "We'll just walk around the resort. Why don't we just meet outside?" She grabbed Rhys's arm and pulled him out of the room, her laughter echoing behind her.

Outside, the resort's pool area was a vibrant tapestry of activity. Three pools shimmered under the midday sun: a shallow, brightly colored pool for children, and two larger pools for adults, their crystal-clear water beckoning for a refreshing dip. Chaise lounges, some shaded by leafy trees, others basking in the sun, dotted the perimeter, their occupants a mix of artists and trainees, some chatting, others sunbathing. A raised stage stood at one end, its polished surface reflecting the sunlight, and a campfire area, surrounded by plush mats and cushions, promised warmth and entertainment in the evening.

"Hey, hey, take a photo of me! I'll send it to my friend and parents back home," Heather said, handing the camera to Rhys and striking a playful pose by the pool.

Rhys took the camera, capturing a series of shots, then handed it back to her. Heather slung the strap on her wrist, her eyes scanning the lively scene. "Let's take lots of photos later with the others. Especially with Eugene. She's one of my favorite singers."

A gentle breeze rustled the palm trees, and a few strands of Heather's hair flew across her face. "Hey..." Rhys said, stopping her and gently pulling her back. He tucked her hair behind her ears, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "Are you hungry? Why are you eating your hair?" he teased, his voice soft.

Heather puffed her cheeks and playfully hit Rhys on the chest. "I am not eating my hair!" She turned back and started to walk forward, her steps light and carefree.

Rhys laughed, running after her and wrapping his arms around her, giving her a gentle shake. "Rhys!" Heather exclaimed, pushing him away, but she was also laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement.