The sun was blazing overhead at the Marquee Dayclub, but that didn't slow down the group's Vegas vibes. After their last run-in with Silas Vorez—the egotistical reality star—the gang was determined to enjoy their day without any more celebrity nonsense. The pool sparkled, the DJ spun beats that could turn even the most rhythm-challenged into dance floor heroes, and everyone was soaking up the chaos in all the right ways.

Jacob Custos floated lazily on an inflatable unicorn, drink in hand, while Emma Mountebank reclined on a poolside chair, sunglasses perched on her nose, scrolling through her phone. Kaitlyn Ka, of course, was holding court by the bar, her signature smirk firmly in place as she dared anyone to out-party her.

The rest of the group—Mike, Josh, Laura, Max, Abigail, and the others—were spread out, enjoying the laid-back atmosphere and making peace with their Vegas-induced hangovers. All in all, it was shaping up to be a good day.

But trouble, as usual, was looming...

As the beats pounded through the club, DJ Pauly D—because why not, it's Vegas—was hyping up the crowd. His voice blasted over the speakers, getting everyone pumped for another wild afternoon. But amid the dancing and drinking, there was a familiar face back at the VIP section, eyeing the group.

"Is that... Silas?" Laura asked, squinting toward the poolside cabanas.

Max, who was halfway through a frozen margarita, groaned. "Great. Just what we needed. Round two of the Celebrity Bitch Chronicles."

But it wasn't just Silas Vorez. As DJ Pauly D worked the turntables, he made a sudden announcement that brought the group's attention right back to the infamous celebrity.

"And shoutout to my boy, Silas! But we all know him better as... Michael Han!"

The pool crowd gasped. Some of the influencers squealed as though they'd just witnessed history, but the group stood frozen, eyes wide as DJ Pauly D revealed the truth about Silas.

Jacob sat up on his inflatable unicorn, blinking. "Wait a minute. That guy? That's Michael Han? The same guy from Hackett's Quarry?"

Emma raised an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued. "Wait, how do you know him?"

Jacob waved his hands, clearly trying to backtrack. "I don't! I mean, well... I might've seen him around, but—"

Before Jacob could finish his awkward explanation, Silas—sorry, Michael Han—caught sight of Emma and strolled over with the swagger of a man who thought the world owed him something. His entourage flanked him like a personal army of over-groomed minions.

"Well, well, well," Michael said, his eyes locking on Emma. "Looks like someone caught my attention again."

Emma frowned and pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. "Again? What are you talking about?"

Jacob, already sensing trouble, got out of the pool, dripping wet and ready to go into full defensive mode. "Dude, back off."

Michael smirked, ignoring Jacob entirely. "Emma, I've seen a lot of women, but you? You stand out. You're like the sun, girl—blinding and impossible to ignore."

"That is the worst pickup line I've ever heard," Kaitlyn muttered from her seat, earning a snort from Ryan.

But Emma, unfazed, leaned back in her chair, her eyes scanning Michael with a critical gaze. "Didn't you call us 'peasants' like five minutes ago? And now you're trying to flirt with me?"

Michael chuckled, his smile dripping with arrogance. "You know, it's all part of the game. People love to hate me, but they can't resist me. So, what do you say? You and me—one-on-one, under the Vegas lights?"

Jacob, now fuming, stepped between Emma and Michael. "Alright, that's enough. Why don't you go back to your VIP cabana and leave us alone?"

Michael finally turned his attention to Jacob, smirking even wider. "Oh, wait, I know you. You're the guy from Hackett's Quarry. You were that camper, right?"

Jacob blinked, his annoyance quickly morphing into confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, bro," Michael said, crossing his arms. "You were there. You had that whole freak-out with the werewolves. It was cute, honestly."

At that, Jacob's face turned an alarming shade of red. "Werewolves? Are you out of your damn mind? That's not even—"

"Sounds like you're in denial, bud." Michael grinned. "But, hey, if you're too scared to admit what went down that night, that's on you."

Jacob's hands clenched into fists. "Listen, you wannabe reality reject, no one here is scared of you. Especially not me. You're just pissed because we didn't roll out the red carpet for you and your knockoff entourage."

Michael shrugged, completely unbothered. "Whatever you say, big man. I'm not here to fight. I'm just here to make sure Emma knows she's got options."

Before Jacob could respond, Emma stood up, stepping in front of Jacob to face Michael head-on. "Okay, first of all, I'm nobody's option. Second, you're coming off as a creep. And third, you might want to work on your personality before you approach anyone ever again."

The surrounding crowd at the pool began to take notice, sensing that drama was unfolding. Michael's entourage looked nervous, clearly not expecting any pushback.

Just as Jacob was about to say something else, Emma's phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen and made a face. "Oh my god. He's texting me."

"Who?" Kaitlyn asked, leaning in to peek over Emma's shoulder.

"Michael Han," Emma replied, rolling her eyes. "He's actually sending me flirty texts right now."

Jacob, still dripping wet and now seriously annoyed, leaned over Emma's shoulder and glared at the screen. "Are you kidding me? What did he say?"

Emma scrolled through the messages, reading aloud. "'Hey, beautiful. Let's make this Vegas trip unforgettable. Drinks on me tonight. '"

Jacob growled under his breath. "Oh, hell no. That's it. I'm handling this."

Before anyone could stop him, Jacob snatched Emma's phone and tapped the screen to initiate a FaceTime call. The group watched as Jacob's face appeared on the screen, glaring at Michael, who answered the call from the VIP cabana, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Jacob," Michael said smoothly, "you jealous already? Don't worry, bro, there's enough of me to go around."

Jacob pointed directly at the screen, not caring about the onlookers. "Listen, I don't care if you're Michael Han or Silas Vorez or whoever the hell you think you are. Stay the hell away from Emma."

Michael laughed, casually reclining on a chaise lounge. "What's the matter, man? Afraid of a little competition? I thought you'd be used to the whole werewolf thing by now."

Jacob's eyes narrowed. "Okay, I don't know what this werewolf crap is you keep bringing up, but it's getting real old. No one's scared of you, Michael. You're just some sad reality star who got too big for his own head."

"Oh, is that right?" Michael raised an eyebrow. "Well, if things don't work out with Emma, I could always go for someone else." He paused dramatically, smirking. "How about... Emily? She's got that whole 'queen bee' thing going on, and I'm into it."

At the mention of her name, Emily, who had been quietly lounging by the pool and sipping on her cocktail, slowly turned her head to glare at Michael through the phone screen.

"You did not just say that," Emily muttered, sitting up straighter. "Did you actually just say you'd try to date me as a backup plan?"

Michael shrugged, completely unbothered. "I'm flexible."

Emily set her drink down, her eyes burning with fury. "Let me make one thing clear, Michael. I wouldn't date you if you were the last person in Vegas, and I needed you to survive the apocalypse. You're a human dumpster fire with a bad attitude and a worse haircut."

The rest of the group erupted into laughter, unable to contain themselves at Emily's takedown. Michael's smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered, though his bravado had definitely taken a hit.

"Alright, alright," Michael said, raising his hands in defeat. "No need to be harsh. Guess I'll just stick to being a reality TV god."

"God? More like a rejected sidekick," Josh chimed in, floating by on his inflatable pizza slice.

Michael huffed, clearly realizing he wasn't winning this battle. "Whatever. I don't need this drama. Enjoy your day, peasants."

With that, Michael ended the FaceTime call, and the group immediately burst into laughter again, unable to believe what had just happened.

"Peasants," Dylan repeated, shaking his head. "This guy's delusional."

"Total narcissist," Laura added, rolling her eyes.

Jacob, still fuming but clearly satisfied with the way things turned out, handed Emma her phone back. "Well, that was fun. Can we go back to enjoying our day now?"

"Yeah, let's get some more drinks before the next celebrity shows up and tries to ruin our vibe," Kaitlyn said, raising her glass.

As the group settled back into their poolside routine, the DJ turned the music up, the sun continued to shine, and the drama of the day faded into the background. Sure, Vegas was unpredictable, but with this group, there was no challenge—celebrity or otherwise—that they couldn't handle with a little humor, a lot of sarcasm, and a good splash of chaos.

Because in the end, nothing said "Vegas reunion" like a run-in with a werewolf wannabe celebrity and a showdown over poolside drinks.