Something About Us

After the credits rolled on Constantine, Heather and Rhys left their room, the lingering scent of popcorn and the faint echo of Keanu Reeves's voice still in the air. They wandered towards the kitchen area, hoping to offer a hand with the dinner preparations. However, the aunties, a cheerful group of seasoned cooks, shooed them away with warm smiles and gentle waves, insisting they join the others and enjoy the last moments of leisure before the talent show.

The resort's patio was now bathed in the soft glow of string lights, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. Some of the artists, like Heather and Rhys, had already showered and changed into comfortable evening attire, while others were still lingering by the pool, their laughter echoing across the water. When Heather spotted her uncle with baby Dave, she immediately offered to take the baby, giving Tony a chance to mingle with his colleagues.

They found a couple of empty chairs near the edge of the patio, overlooking the pool area, and settled down. "I wonder where the others are?" Rhys said, his gaze sweeping across the crowd, a hint of impatience in his voice.

"Maybe they're back in their rooms, getting ready," Heather replied, bouncing Dave gently on her lap, his soft baby giggles filling the air. "Want to go check?"

Rhys glanced at Heather, then at Dave, who was staring back at him with wide, curious eyes, his little fingers reaching out. "Nah. I'll just wait for them to come out," he said, pulling out his phone. He sent a quick message to Jess: [Where are you guys?]

[In the room. Just finished taking a bath. Why, miss us already?] Jess replied almost immediately, a playful tone evident in the text.

[Haha. You guys done? Come out!] Rhys sent back, a hint of playful annoyance in his reply.

[Henry's still not done bathing. We'll go out once he's done.]

[Okay.]

A manager stepped onto the stage, tapping the microphone to get everyone's attention. "Attention, everyone! We'll be starting the talent show in thirty minutes. Please come forward to pick your performance numbers."

A small, ornate box was passed around, and everyone took turns drawing a slip of paper. For groups, the leaders stepped forward, their expressions a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

When Rhys returned, the other members of Smash were already seated beside Heather. "So, what number did you get?" Emmett asked, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and dread.

Rhys opened his hand, revealing the slip of paper. "One," he announced, his voice laced with a hint of resignation.

"Oh my god. Dude, really?" Jess groaned, his shoulders slumping.

"I knew it!" Emmett exclaimed, while Henry covered his face with his hands, a muffled groan escaping his lips. "Every time!"

"Come on, guys, being the first performer is better than being in the middle or last," Rhys said, trying to inject a note of optimism into the conversation, though his voice lacked conviction.

Heather shook her head, chuckling softly as she continued to play with Dave, his soft baby coos a soothing counterpoint to the guys' exasperated sighs.

As the guys debated their performance, their voices rising in playful arguments, Heather noticed Dave starting to get fussy. She decided to find her aunt, thinking he was ready for bed. She found Marjorie in the kitchen, surrounded by the other aunties, their hands moving deftly as they prepared a feast.

"I think he's sleepy," Heather said, handing Dave to Marjorie, whose eyes softened at the sight of her son. "And hungry."

Marjorie looked at the baby, her eyes filled with affection. "Yeah, I think he is. Thank you, honey. Now why don't you go back to the others so you can enjoy the show?"

Heather nodded and returned to her seat, where Riza and her group had joined the others, their voices a soft murmur against the backdrop of the resort's ambient sounds. "Hey," Riza greeted her, her smile warm and welcoming.

"Hey," Heather replied. "What number did you pick?"

"We're fifth," Riza said, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

"Have you girls talked about what you'll be performing?" Heather asked.

"Yeah, we'll do a cover," Riza replied, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"Cool. I'll look forward to your performance!" Heather said, her eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm.

Just then, a tall, friendly-looking guy approached her, his smile wide and inviting. "Sorry to disturb you, but is this seat taken?" he asked, gesturing towards the empty chair beside her.

"No, it's not," Heather replied, her voice polite but slightly reserved.

"Oh, great," he said, sitting down. "Do you mind if I sit here? I'm just waiting for my friend who invited me here."

"Yeah, you can sit there," Heather said. She glanced around, noticing that the guys had moved to the stage area, their figures silhouetted against the bright stage lights. What the? I just looked away for a second, and they were gone, she thought, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face.

"So, are you also an actress, a singer, or a trainee?" the guy asked, his voice laced with casual curiosity.

Heather was surprised by his directness. "Are you talking to me?" she asked, pointing to herself, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

The guy laughed, a warm, genuine sound. "Yeah."

"Oh," Heather said, lowering her hand. "No, I'm just a guest here. I was brought by my best friend."

"Really? Me too. Though I can't seem to find my friend. He's probably still not here," he said, his smile slightly strained.

"Ahhh... I see," Heather replied, her voice trailing off, her eyes darting towards the stage, hoping to see Rhys and the others returning.

As Jess talked to the manager, Rhys's eyes scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on Heather. He noticed her talking to the new guy, their heads close together, their voices a low murmur. He noticed a slight stiffness in her posture, a subtle tension in her smile.

Dave smirked, nudging Rhys with his elbow, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Looks like Heather's starting to make friends, huh?"

Rhys ignored him, his gaze fixed on Heather and the guy, who were now shaking hands, their fingers lingering for a moment too long. He must have introduced himself, Rhys thought, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.

Aahhh... When will they come back? Heather thought, her smile starting to feel strained. This guy, Chris, was nice enough, but she was starting to feel uncomfortable, her social anxiety creeping in.

"Heather?" Chris asked, his voice drawing her attention back to him.

"Yes?" she replied, her voice slightly distracted.

"Is it okay?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"I'm sorry, I spaced out for a second. Is what okay?" Heather blushed, realizing she hadn't been listening, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink.

Chris was about to repeat his question when Heather felt a hand on her shoulder, the touch firm and possessive. She looked to her right and saw Rhys leaning towards her, his eyes dark and intense. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of underlying tension. His eyes flicked towards Chris, a silent challenge in his gaze, before returning to Heather.

"Yes," she replied, smiling nervously. "Oh, by the way, this is Chris," she said, gesturing towards the guy beside her.

Rhys sat down next to Heather, making sure their legs were touching, his presence a solid, reassuring barrier. He placed his left hand on her lower back, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

Heather nudged Rhys, signaling him to remove his hand, but he instead wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, his touch possessive. "This is my best friend, Rhys. The one I came here with," she said, her voice slightly breathless.

Chris smirked, his eyes flickering between them, but extended his hand to Rhys. Rhys, his expression unreadable, shook his hand firmly. "Sorry, what was it you wanted to ask me earlier?" Heather asked Chris, her voice slightly strained, her gaze fixed on Rhys's hand resting on her waist.

"So, are you two together or something?" Chris asked, his eyes flickering between them, a hint of amusement in his voice.