Lovebirds

thirty-six

"Dude, you're being really pathetic right now," scoffed Kyle.

"Shut up," hissed Rayan, fumbling with the tin foil. "I got this."

"No," said Wesley, shaking his head. "You really don't."

Naira was curiously tuning into their conversation in the break room, unable to focus away from the Red Knights. They were up to their shenanigans for the hundredth time, but she wasn't sure what they were doing or why they needed tin foil. Stirring her coffee, she continued to observe them as if she were reading a research study, analyzing the method and deliberating the results.

"I am a man who can do simple tasks like ripping out a perfect piece of tin foil without fucking up," boasted Rayan, a little too proud of himself. "Behold my superiority."

He yanked the silver piece out, and Naira heard the shred before she saw it. The tin foil was wrinkled and dull, ripped around the edges and torn in the middle. Wesley and Kyle erupted into a fit of laughter at the sheer disappointment on Rayan's face when he realized his plan failed.

Wesley clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, smile gleaming like pearls beneath an ocean. "You tried," he comforted. "Better luck next time."

Kyle was not as calm as Wesley, no, this man was shaking with his laughter, voice bouncing off the walls as his chuckles grew. He banged his hand against the table, each thump causing Rayan to get more and more embarrassed at his failure.

"You really thought you had it," teased Kyle. "It's the way you pulled it like you were doing a magic show."

"The art of physics is referred to as magic by simpletons like yourself," retorted Rayan, crossing his arms.

"Who you calling a simpleton? From my angle, I see a man who sucks at physics and insults," smirked Kyle, dark eyes holding a devilish glint to them.

Rayan rolled his eyes, flopping down on a seat.

"You guys do realize that you have a meeting in about," Naira checked her watch, "twenty minutes."

"And?" prompted Kyle.

"Go to your meeting. It's with the producers."

"But they're so boring," whined Kyle, resting his head on the table. "All they do is make decisions about the music videos, nitpick at us, and then force us into costumes that are itchy and uncomfortable."

Wesley scoffed as he crossed his arms. "Why does that sound like what you do on a daily basis?"

"Says the guy who fusses over my style before work every day."

"That's because you dress like a teenager for important meetings," argued Wesley, shrugging. "It's not my fault that you lack the brain cells to think on your own."

"It'd be a real shame if I-"

"Boys," warned Naira sternly.

"We know," they sighed simultaneously.

At this point in her career, she felt like a mother scolding children when it came to those two boys. It was bad enough that Naira had to wake them up in the morning, and now she was babysitting them before fights broke out. There was no point in her college degree if this was how her time was spent.

Granted, over the months that they'd known each other, Naira cultivated a mutual respect between her and the Red Knights. She became their friend, their ally, the one person they could trust in such a crazy industry.

Her eyes glanced over to Rayan. Maybe not all of their friends.

There was still so much she had yet to uncover about Rayan. As she watched him throw his head back in a deep chuckle or the way his eyes gleamed against the tides and turbulence of their relationship, she wondered how he could love her so wholeheartedly if it seemed like love was not what he was raised with.