AGAINST THE RULES

Chapter 1

Bright yawned. Big and long and almost comically. Half way through it, he tenses. Furtively, he glances around him looking for cameras pointed his direction. Was the behind-the-scenes crew filming that day?

He rubs his eyes, too late now. If anyone was filming, then that yawn is now in preserved for posterity.

"Get yourself together", he berates himself. "It's the last day of filming this week. You can get through this."

He leans back on the bean bag chair and begins to mentally rehearse his lines. He knows he is fooling only himself as what he is truly trying to do is rest his eyes, maybe even rehearse his way to a nap.

He is two lines in when a flurry of activity snaps him back to attention. He ducks his head on his knees to hide his irritation - Win has arrived.

Sure enough, his six foot tall, smiley eyed, all cheekbones co-star was walking hurriedly into the studio. His personal assistants, make up artists, and stylists are following him into the dressing room upstairs, causing a ruckus.

Bright feels his jaw twitch. Bright didn't hate Win. Not really. There was nothing about him to dislike. Aside from the obvious good looks, Win was funny, kind, quick on his feet. He cannot begrudge the ten minutes he was late because has anyone seen Bangkok traffic? He cannot begrudge his large, noisy entourage because he had one himself.

But still, every time he sees Win or hears the name Win he cannot help but make a face.  An unwarranted reaction but one he seemed to have no control over especially in the last year. He wondered sometimes when that twitch started, he was sure it was not something he did at the start.

From behind the curtain they could hear their screams. A hundred thousand voices chanting their names: Bright! Win! Bright! Win! As if their names if said loud enough could heal ailments or open interplanetary portals.

Win looks at Bright. He looks as disbelieving as Bright did. And just as nervous. Bright extends his hand. Win takes it. His heart leaps to his throat. And they walk out into the blinding lights.

The crowd roars louder - how was that even possible? The boys smile and wave with their free hands, too nervous to let go of each other.

It has been two years since they debuted as a "love team". Two years since the unprecedented worldwide success of their romantic comedy. Since then Bright has done 30 separate projects. 5 separate song launches. 2 movies paired with Asia's most famous actresses. Win has more or less done the same.

But for some goddamn reason, everyone who has ever heard their names still lump it together: Brightwin. Everyone looks at everything they do and believe it's some kind of coded letter of love for one another. He cannot as much order a spring roll without someone finding a way to connect it to Win.

And it irritates him.

He works 15 to 16 hour days almost every day.
He forgets to eat. He can barely sleep. He has 3 unread movie options on his nightstand. 3 unfinished songs that are way past due. There was no time in his life for secret coded messages of any kind.  He was so tired that the only attraction he has the energy to feel is towards king size beds and blackout curtains.

"Ready in 5 minutes!" the assistant director bellows as she walks into the set. Bright is snapped out of his reverie. Almost instantly, make up artists and hair stylists descend upon him to retouch his foundation and comb his hair and straighten out his clothes. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the behind the scenes cameras start to record. Bright inhales in and flashes his patented Hollywood-ready smile. Ready or not, the show has to go on.