The sun was setting on another chaotic day in Las Vegas, and the group was finally heading back to the MGM Grand hotel, looking for a break after their eventful time at the Marquee Dayclub. They were tired, a little tipsy, and more than ready to kick their feet up for a moment.

But rest? That was never really on the agenda, not when you had this much drama boiling over and a reality TV star with an overblown ego lurking in the shadows.

As they entered their hotel suite, Emma's phone buzzed. She casually glanced at it, only to roll her eyes and groan.

"Ugh, you've got to be kidding me," Emma muttered, showing her phone screen to Kaitlyn.

"Michael Han again?" Kaitlyn asked, smirking. "Let me guess, he's still trying to slide into your DMs?"

Jacob, who had just face-planted onto the nearest couch, shot up at the mention of that name. "What does he want now?"

"Same thing as always," Emma said, sighing. "He's texting me again. This time, he's acting like we're some sort of 'power couple' that just hasn't happened yet. It's so creepy."

Jacob's eyes narrowed. "Hand me that phone. Now."

"Jake, no—" Emma started, but it was too late. Jacob was already typing furiously into Emma's phone.

When he was done, Jacob raised the phone triumphantly. "There. Told him the war is on and that he's never going to forget me calling him a werewolf."

Emma stared at him, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You didn't."

"I did," Jacob replied, unapologetic. "He's a reality TV lurpy who can't get over himself. You think I'm going to let him treat you like that? No way."

Just as Emma was about to respond, the rest of the group had gathered around, catching up on the latest in the Jacob vs. Michael Han saga.

Mike Munroe let out a low chuckle. "You know, this whole 'werewolf' thing is weird, even for us. But hey, if it keeps Michael Han off your back, I say go for it."

"I second that," Chris added, leaning back in a chair. "He's been a pain since day one."

"We'll handle him," Laura chimed in. "Just say the word."

But as they talked about it, everyone knew one thing for sure: Michael Han wasn't done stirring up trouble.

Later That Night at the Nightclub...

Feeling refreshed (well, as refreshed as one can be in Vegas), the group decided to hit up one last nightclub before the end of their trip. The neon lights of Las Vegas blinked in the distance as they made their way into Omnia Nightclub, where the music was louder than logic and the drinks were expensive enough to make them wince.

Things were going great. Ryan and Dylan were dancing like they were on their last night on Earth, Max and Laura were lounging near the bar, and Emma was finally letting herself have some fun after the day's drama.

But of course, trouble wasn't far behind.

Across the crowded dance floor, there he was: Michael Han, aka Silas Vorez, the reality TV villain himself. His eyes locked on Emma, and despite the crowd, he made his way toward her with a smug grin plastered on his face. He clearly wasn't taking "no" for an answer.

Emma saw him first, groaning and turning away as if that would somehow make him disappear. "Great. He's here. Just ignore him," she said, trying to brush it off.

But Michael, as usual, wasn't interested in being ignored. He strutted right up to her and, without any hesitation, reached out to touch her arm.

Emma pulled back instantly, and before she could even say anything, Jacob appeared out of nowhere like a protective watchdog. "Hey, back off, lurpy," Jacob snapped, stepping between them. "You've got about three seconds before I make you regret coming over here."

Michael, unfazed, tilted his head, still smiling in that infuriatingly smug way. "Lurpy? Is that your best insult, Jake? You can't stand that someone like me has actual influence, can you?"

Jacob's jaw clenched, but before he could throw another insult, Mike Munroe walked up and casually slung his arm over Jacob's shoulder, clearly ready to diffuse the situation—or at least make it funnier.

"Michael, I've met sociopaths in my life," Mike said, staring him dead in the eyes, "and trust me, you are the poster child. You're the kind of crazy that makes everyone else look sane."

Michael's smile wavered for a moment, but it returned with more venom. "You don't know anything about me, Munroe."

"I know enough," Mike replied, taking a step closer. "I know that you think being on TV makes you untouchable. But it's Vegas, man. Nobody's untouchable here."

Jacob, still itching for a fight, added, "And for the record, calling me a werewolf isn't an insult, dude. It's a compliment. You're just a delusional wannabe trying to act tough."

The tension between the three was palpable, and the nightclub crowd had taken notice. But just as it looked like things were about to boil over, Michael turned, flashing a sleazy smile at Emma. "You'll change your mind, Emma. Trust me."

Emma, rolling her eyes so hard they nearly popped out of her head, waved him off. "You're delusional."

The Humiliation...

Just when they thought they'd seen the last of Michael Han for the night, the lights in the nightclub dimmed, and the DJ's voice boomed over the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for something special! We're handing out the Love Award for the most memorable couple-to-be of the night!"

Everyone in the group groaned collectively.

"Please tell me this isn't happening," Jessica muttered, sinking into her chair.

But sure enough, there was Michael Han, making his way up onto the stage like he was receiving an Academy Award. The crowd cheered—not for him, but for the drama that was clearly about to unfold.

"And the winner of the 'Love Award,'" Michael announced, holding up a ridiculous heart-shaped trophy, "is... the beautiful, the unforgettable, Emma Mountebank!"

The crowd gasped, but no one was more shocked than Emma herself. She looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.

Jacob, on the other hand, was furious. His face turned red with rage as he shot up from his seat. "Oh, that's it. He's dead."

Before anyone could stop him, Jacob marched up to the stage, pushing his way through the crowd. "HEY, MICHAEL!" he shouted, grabbing everyone's attention.

Michael turned to face him, that smug grin still plastered on his face. "Jake, back again for more? Jealousy doesn't suit you, man."

Jacob's hands clenched into fists, but he kept his cool—barely. "This is pathetic. You humiliate her, you won't leave her alone, and now you think this stupid 'Love Award' means anything? You're a joke."

Michael shrugged, still holding the trophy like it was the crown jewels. "It's all just part of the game, man. Lighten up."

At that moment, the group rushed to Emma's side, trying to console her. Jessica patted her back, saying, "Don't worry, Emma. This is just his sad way of pretending anyone cares about him."

"Yeah," Kaitlyn added. "You've got nothing to prove to anyone—especially not this reality TV wannabe."

But Michael wasn't done. He sauntered off the stage and walked right up to them, towering over Jacob with that same smug expression. "You're not gonna win this, Jake. You know that, right? I always get what I want."

Jacob didn't even blink. "You want to keep testing me? I'll remind you again: I'm not scared of you, Michael. You're the one who should be scared."

Michael sneered. "Scared? Of what? A werewolf?"

Mike Munroe, still watching from nearby, couldn't take it anymore. He stepped forward, placing a hand on Jacob's shoulder to calm him down before addressing Michael directly.

"Here's the thing, Michael," Mike said, his voice calm but deadly serious. "You're a crazy sociopath. You've got this weird obsession with Emma, and it's not going to end well for you. So take your trophy, take your ego, and get the hell out of here before I have to get involved."

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a moment, it seemed like Michael was actually considering backing off. His face twitched with frustration, but after a long pause, he finally gave a sarcastic bow.

"Alright, alright. You win for tonight, Jake. But this war? It's far from over."

With that, Michael turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the group to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

After the Drama...

As the nightclub slowly returned to its normal chaotic vibe, the group gathered around Emma and Jacob, consoling both of them.

"I can't believe he just did that," Emma said, shaking her head. "That was humiliating."

"Don't even think about it," Jacob replied, wrapping his arm around her protectively. "He's the one who looked like an idiot up there."

"Yeah," Josh added. "Everyone could see right through him. He's just trying to get attention."

"And you've got us," Kaitlyn said, grinning. "We'll take care of him if he tries anything else."

Emma smiled weakly, clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal. "Thanks, guys. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Jacob gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, we're in this together. Werewolves or not."

The rest of the group laughed, but the mood was lighter now. As they raised their drinks to another wild night in Vegas, they knew one thing for sure:

They'd faced Wendigos, werewolves, and now, Michael Han. And no matter what came next, they were going to handle it—together, with a little sarcasm, a lot of support, and enough humor to keep the crazy in check.

Because if there's one thing they'd learned in Vegas, it's that nothing's ever as simple as it seems—and the drama is always just around the corner.