The Sheraton Montazah Hotel was bathed in the quiet hum of night, the Mediterranean breeze rustling through the palm trees outside. The Lonnit Entertainment crew had retired to their rooms, preparing for an early morning flight to Rome to continue Season 2 of Ancient of Discoveries. The day's excitement had given way to exhaustion, and the team drifted into a much-needed sleep—or so they thought.

Kate Wilder jolted awake in the middle of the night, her senses sharp. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of city lights filtering through the curtains. Something felt… off. She froze as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and that's when she saw it.

Standing at the foot of her bed, staring at her with a piercing gaze, was Granthem Du'Met.

Kate's heart leapt into her throat, and she screamed, scrambling to back away. Her voice echoed through the quiet hotel, and within seconds, Mark Nestor burst into the room, still half-asleep but ready for action.

"What's going on?!" Mark yelled, spotting the figure near Kate's bed. Without hesitation, he lunged forward, tackling the intruder to the ground.

"Get off me!" the figure cried out, their voice familiar and distinctly not Du'Met's.

Kate scrambled to turn on the bedside lamp, and the room flooded with light, revealing a disheveled and very confused Spencer Pratt pinned under Mark's weight.

"Spencer?!" Kate yelled, her fear instantly morphing into anger.

Spencer groaned dramatically. "Ow! My ribs! I bruise easily, you know!"

Mark blinked, realization dawning. "Wait… you're not Du'Met."

"No, duh!" Spencer wheezed, trying to wiggle free. "But thanks for the impromptu wrestling match, buddy. Ten out of ten for enthusiasm."

Before anyone could process what was happening, the door to Kate's room swung open again, and Heidi Montag strutted in, arms crossed and smirking.

"Spence, babe, I told you this was a dumb idea," she said, though her tone lacked any real disapproval. "But you just had to prank them."

Kate, still sitting on her bed, stared at them in disbelief. "Prank us? You think this is funny?!"

Spencer, now sitting up and rubbing his shoulder, grinned. "Come on, it was hilarious! I even practiced my 'creepy Du'Met stare' in the mirror. Nailed it, right?"

Jamie Tiergan appeared in the doorway, her hair a mess and her expression a mix of exhaustion and fury. "What the hell is going on? And why is Spencer Pratt on the floor?"

Erin Keenan joined her, clutching her pillow and glaring daggers. "Please tell me this isn't happening."

Charles Lonnit, now awake and still wearing his silk sleeping mask pushed up onto his forehead, stormed in with his usual flair. "What in the name of all things dramatic is this nonsense?!"

Spencer stood, brushing himself off and flashing his trademark smug grin. "Relax, guys. It was just a joke. You should've seen your face, Kate. Priceless."

Kate's voice was icy. "You think scaring me out of my mind is funny?"

Heidi stepped forward, her tone syrupy sweet. "Oh, come on. It was just a little fun. No harm done."

Charles pointed dramatically at the pair. "Fun? This is a production crew, not a sideshow! You're disrupting the sanctity of our creative process!"

Jamie snorted. "Sanctity? Really, Charles?"

Mark crossed his arms, his glare fixed on Spencer. "You barged into her room in the middle of the night. That's not a prank—it's harassment."

Spencer held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Geez, you guys are no fun."

Kate stepped forward, her fists clenched. "Here's what's going to happen: you're going to leave, now. And if I see either of you near us again, I'm calling security."

Heidi feigned shock, placing a hand on her chest. "Us? We're just innocent reality stars. You wouldn't."

Charles, tired of the theatrics, pointed toward the door. "Out. Now. Or I'll personally escort you out of the building."

Spencer and Heidi exchanged looks, then sighed dramatically. "Fine," Spencer said, heading for the door. "But you're missing out on some top-tier content."

As they left, laughing and whispering to each other, Jamie muttered, "Do you think they ever get tired of being the worst?"

Erin shook her head. "Doubt it. They probably thrive on it."

Once the door clicked shut, the room fell into an awkward silence, broken only by Kate's heavy sigh.

"This," she said, sitting back on the bed, "is why I hate reality TV."

Mark nodded. "I'm adding this to the long list of reasons I need therapy."

Jamie flopped onto a chair. "Well, that's it. I'm too annoyed to sleep now. Thanks, Spencer."

Erin sat on the edge of the bed, her voice dry. "Can we put a 'No Pratts Allowed' sign on the hotel door?"

Charles, adjusting his sleeping mask, groaned. "They are banned from our orbit, effective immediately. Now, let's all go back to bed before this escalates into another fiasco."

As the crew filed out to return to their rooms, Kate sat in the dim light for a moment longer, shaking her head. Tomorrow, they'd leave for Rome and dive deeper into Cleopatra's story. But tonight? Tonight was yet another reminder that even the most fascinating adventures could be derailed by petty, glitter-clad chaos.