Something About Us

Each door had a small window that allowed her to see inside.

When she saw the sign on the door that says Practice Room B, she peered inside and spotted her uncle, Anthony, focused on his phone. She smiled and knocked lightly before opening the door. "Uncle."

The moment she stepped into the room, a whirlwind of movement erupted. Five guys, faces flushed and eyes wide with hunger, surged toward her like a pack of wolves descending on a fresh kill. "FOOD!" one of them shouted, his voice laced with desperation.

Heather's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and amusement. She stumbled back, nearly losing her grip on the bags. "Whoa, hold your horses!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with laughter.

Just as she was about to lose her grip, a hand shot out to catch one of the bags—it was Rhys. He flashed her a grin, a playful glint in his eyes, and winked as he took the bag from her. "Saved by the bell," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. He then casually walked to the corner of the room where the others were sitting.

The rest of the guys looked just as famished. They'd been pushed hard during their practice session, and since Anthony was a perfectionist, they hadn't been allowed a break until the dance was perfected. Now that it was done, they were ravenous—and Heather had arrived with food like an angel sent from above.

Heather watched them with a raised brow. She wasn't about to let them eat her uncle's share too, though. "Hey, you crazy dogs! My uncle hasn't gotten his food yet!" she called out, hands on her hips.

The group froze, realizing their mistake. They all looked at Heather and Anthony, guilty expressions plastered on their faces. Feeling the weight of Heather's disapproving gaze, they all stood up and bowed. "We apologize," they muttered in unison.

Rhys, ever the troublemaker, walked over to Heather, grabbed her hand, and gently pulled her toward the others. "Come eat with us. It looks like Aunt Maggie packed something for you, too," he said, as he settled down on the floor with the rest of the group.

Heather hadn't expected to be included. She thought her task was just to deliver the food and head out. But, seeing how much Rhys was insistent on her staying, she sat down next to him. She crossed her legs to the side, as she was wearing a dress, but the guys couldn't help but notice her long legs, appreciating her elegance.

Seeing Heather's slight discomfort, Rhys's expression softened. He walked to the corner, retrieved his sweatshirt, and gently draped it over her legs. "Here," he said, his voice warm. "Just in case."

Heather let out a relieved sigh and glanced at him with a grateful smile. Rhys winked in response.

"Next time," Rhys teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "consider wearing something... less revealing when you're around these guys."

At that moment, Dave nearly choked on his drink, glaring at Rhys. "Hey! What do you mean by that? I'm not like that!" he said, trying to recover from his near mishap.

The others, flustered, immediately defended themselves, their faces turning crimson. Heather couldn't help but laugh at their reactions.

After they finished eating, Anthony clapped his hands to grab their attention. "Alright, you guys can head home now. I've got to meet with the CEO about your next album," he said, ruffling Heather's hair before leaving the room.

"Yes! Finally, freedom!" Henry exclaimed, jumping up and rushing to the corner to grab his things, followed by Emmett. Meanwhile, Dave and Jess took care of the trash.

Rhys stood up and reached out a hand to Heather. "I'll help you up."

As she took his hand, Heather stood and handed him back his sweatshirt. When she glanced at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, she realized the skirt of her dress had ridden up, revealing far more of her legs than she intended. She groaned inwardly, cursing the fickle nature of the fabric.

Rhys, noticing her discomfort, subtly shifted his position, standing behind her to shield her from the others' view. He didn't want her to feel embarrassed.

Heather, noticing the shift, looked at Rhys in the mirror and sighed. He must have noticed the dress. She quickly adjusted it, pulling it down as best she could. This dress always seemed to ride up when she sat down, which is why she rarely wore it.

Then, with a gentle touch, he tied his sweatshirt around her waist, effectively hiding the errant hem. "There," he said, his voice soft. "You're all set."

Heather's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of gratitude and something else, something she couldn't quite name. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored his.

"Thank you," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Anytime," Rhys replied, his gaze lingering on hers. He then walked over to grab his bag from the corner.

Heather could hardly breathe, still flustered. She quickly gathered her thoughts and tried to shake off the heat rising in her cheeks.