The afternoon sun bathed the MGM Grand hotel pool in a warm, golden glow. The group had decided to take it easy after Jacob's intense confrontation with Michael Han that morning. They needed a break from the drama—and there was no better place to decompress than at the pool, with the sound of water splashing and chilled drinks in hand.

Joshua Washington was floating on an inflatable lounger, sunglasses on, pretending to be unbothered by the world. Ryan Erzahler and Dylan Lenivy were lounging near the poolside, engaged in a deep discussion about whether or not pool floats could survive in a zombie apocalypse. The rest of the crew—Laura, Max, Kaitlyn, Abigail, and Emma—were spread out across lounge chairs, just relaxing and finally enjoying some peace and quiet.

Well, almost everyone.

Jessica Riley and Samantha Giddings had other priorities. They hadn't seen Jacob since his confrontation with Michael earlier that morning, and the concern over how he was holding up hung in the air. They both stood near the edge of the pool, scanning the area for him.

"There he is," Sam said, pointing toward the far end of the pool where Jacob was sitting on a lounge chair, staring out at the water with a brooding expression. He was nursing a cold drink, but you could tell the guy was still stewing over the whole Michael Han fiasco.

Jessica shook her head. "He's still thinking about it, isn't he?"

"Yup," Sam replied, walking with her toward Jacob. "Can't blame him. The guy's been dealing with non-stop creepiness from Michael for days."

As they approached, Jacob looked up, offering a half-smile. "Hey, guys."

"How are you holding up?" Jessica asked, plopping down onto the chair beside him. "You look like you're about to wrestle an alligator or something."

Jacob shrugged, clearly trying to downplay it. "I'm fine. Just… annoyed. That guy really gets under my skin."

"Which is why we came to check on you," Sam said, sitting down on the other side of him. "We don't want you spiraling into full-on rage mode. Remember what happened the last time someone pissed you off?"

Jacob blinked, pretending not to know. "What? You mean the time I broke that vending machine because it didn't give me my Doritos?"

"Yes," Sam said, deadpan. "That's exactly the time I'm talking about."

Jessica grinned. "Hey, in fairness, vending machines can be total jerks."

Before Jacob could respond, a voice interrupted them from behind. "Mind if I join you guys?"

The three of them turned to see a woman standing near their lounge chairs. She looked to be in her late twenties, with long dark hair and an effortlessly cool vibe. She wore oversized sunglasses and a stylish bikini, giving off major I'm-way-too-chill-for-this-drama energy.

"Uh, sure," Jessica said, glancing at the stranger, curious. "Are you staying here at the hotel?"

The woman smiled and sat down on the edge of Jessica's chair. "Yeah, I'm staying here. I couldn't help but overhear you talking about Michael Han earlier… and, well, let's just say I have a little experience with him."

Jessica blinked. "Wait—experience? You don't mean—"

The woman sighed, pulling off her sunglasses and revealing a knowing expression. "Yeah. I'm his ex-girlfriend. The ex, actually. I'm Rachel."

Jacob nearly choked on his drink. "Wait, what?!"

Sam, eyes wide, sat forward. "You're Michael Han's ex? Like… the Michael Han?"

"Yep," Rachel confirmed, shaking her head as if it were the most exhausting thing in the world. "We dated for about two years before I finally realized he was, well, Michael Han."

Jessica looked at her like she was staring at a living, breathing tabloid. "Oh my god, girl, we need to know everything. How did you survive?"

Rachel chuckled, leaning back. "Barely, let me tell you. The guy is all ego, all the time. He's obsessed with being seen, with people knowing who he is. And if anyone threatens his fragile little reality-TV ego? He loses it. I saw the worst of it when we were together."

Jacob, still processing the fact that he was sitting next to Michael's ex-girlfriend, couldn't help but ask, "So… what happened? Why'd you break up?"

Rachel paused, thinking for a moment. "I started seeing through the facade. Michael tries so hard to be this charming, powerful, alpha-male type, but it's all just a cover for how insecure he really is. Any time someone didn't give him the attention he thought he deserved, he'd freak out. It started small—like, getting angry when people didn't recognize him in public—but it escalated."

"Escalated how?" Sam asked, her expression serious.

Rachel sighed, adjusting her sunglasses. "He started getting violent. Not with me—thankfully—but with other people. He'd lash out at anyone who 'disrespected' him. We'd be at a party, and if someone didn't treat him like a big-shot reality star, he'd start picking fights. He just couldn't handle the idea that not everyone thought he was a celebrity."

Jessica let out a low whistle. "Yikes."

"Yeah," Rachel continued, "it got so bad that I had to get out. I couldn't deal with the constant drama, the anger, and the possessiveness. He tried to control everything I did—who I talked to, where I went—and when I finally broke up with him, he flipped. Called me every name in the book, tried to ruin my reputation. I had to block him on everything."

Jacob, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. "That makes a lot of sense. He's been harassing Emma like crazy ever since we got to Vegas. Texts, showing up at the clubs… he even gave her this humiliating 'Love Award' last night."

Rachel winced. "Yeah, that sounds like Michael. He hates rejection. It makes him spiral, especially when someone like Emma—someone strong and confident—doesn't fall for his nonsense. He probably sees her as some kind of 'challenge' to win."

"Well, he's not going to win anything," Jacob muttered, his frustration bubbling back up. "I already told him to back off, but I don't think he's going to listen."

Rachel shook her head. "He won't. That's the thing—Michael doesn't stop until he feels like he's 'won.' He'll keep pushing and pushing until either he gets what he wants or someone forces him to quit."

Jessica leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "So, what should we do? I mean, it sounds like we're dealing with a total maniac here."

"Honestly?" Rachel said, leaning back in her chair. "The best thing you can do is stand your ground. Michael hates being challenged, but if you keep pushing back, eventually he'll move on. He's a coward deep down. He can't handle real confrontation. He just wants people to be afraid of him."

Jacob smirked at that. "Afraid of him? Please. The guy's about as scary as a Chihuahua in a tutu."

Sam laughed, but Rachel's expression remained serious. "I'm just warning you—he's not as harmless as he seems. He can get violent when things don't go his way."

There was a brief silence as the group processed everything Rachel had said. The idea that Michael Han—reality TV clown extraordinaire—had violent tendencies was unsettling. Sure, they'd seen him act like a creep, but hearing Rachel's story added a whole new layer of intensity to the situation.

Finally, Sam broke the silence. "Well, thanks for the heads-up. We'll definitely keep an eye on him."

"Yeah," Jacob added, "and if he tries anything again, he'll have more than just me to deal with."

Rachel smiled. "Good. Just be careful, alright? The guy's a snake, and he doesn't play fair."

Jessica grinned. "Well, good thing we don't either."

The group shared a laugh, but underneath it all, the tension lingered. As they lounged by the pool, sipping their drinks and trying to relax, one thing was clear: this wasn't over. Michael Han wasn't going to stop unless they made him. And after everything they'd been through, there was no way they were letting some reality TV has-been ruin their reunion.

Because in Vegas, it's not just about surviving the parties—it's about surviving the drama, the creeps, and the egos. And if Michael Han wanted a war, then he'd better be ready.

Jacob leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and trying to enjoy the peaceful moment by the pool. But deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before Michael made his next move.

And this time? Jacob was ready.