AGAINST THE RULES

Chapter 7

"S̄wạs̄dī! Watch us as we have a Hong Island adventure! It's a 3-part TV special you won't want to miss!

Tune in next Friday, 7pm! Dūlæ!"

"And cut!" , the director shouts and the four actors disband. The production crew very efficiently packs away the lights.

The producer steps in : "Promo video done! Good job boys. Now, we move out to Hong Island. Win and Bright you will be taking the first speed boat with cameraman Atid. Please get ready."

"Why aren't we all leaving at the same time?", Bright asks.

"Speed boats are small, Bright."

Bright does not laugh. The producer concedes.

"You have to film your pre-interviews with Win. Also we need some B-roll of you together. Charong and Kit's schedule is late this afternoon. So they'll wait here at the resort first," the producer says.

"Nice!", Kit says pumping his fist in the air. "Poolside margarita time." Charong whoops in agreement.

"Not so fast! You cannot get drunk at six in the freaking morning," the producer scolds Kit, moving away from Bright and starts escorting the two younger actors to their villas.

Bright looks at Win to find Win looking at him too. He looks away and starts to lift his bag when 3 other assistants swoop in to help them with their luggage.

- - -

Bright laughs as the waves splash behind him, drops of water fall as if intentionally on his eyelids and cheeks. The droplets trickle, tracing his jaw. Some land on the curve of his lip. Beside him, Win was laughing too - his eyes disappearing into a half moon, his cheekbones glistening with water and the rising sun, his mouth opened wide into a magazine-ready guffaw.

Atid lowers the camera. "Got the shot," he says. "Good work." Bright and Win nod at him. "Thank you," they say and they all fall silent.

Their gorgeous for-camera laughter is gone as if blown away by the wind. Bright takes out his phone and focuses on it even though everyone on that boat knew there was no signal where they were.

The boat slices through the water with ease but as the minutes pass it's hard to ignore how much bigger the waves were getting. The boat muscled through it and the sea captain with them seemed unperturbed.
Win, Bright notes,  looks alarmed but was trying to hide it. Bright turns to Atid who was changing out his SD cards.

"Atid," Bright says. "Water getting this choppy is normal, right? I mean we are in the middle of the ocean."

Atid pries a SD card from the small plastic case balanced on his knee. "Of course! It's so goddamn sunny, what could possibly go wrong?" 
As if to answer his question, a giant wave splashes into the boat. Instinctively, all three of them hold on to the railings behind them. And all three watch as the waves wash away Atid's SD card case.

"Goddamnit," Atid swears.

It was Bright's turn to mentally curse as he watched the speedboat travel back to the resort,
Atid in tow.

He understood , of course,  why Atid needed to get new SD cards. Understood there was no one to ask to bring it and even if there was someone to ask, there was no way to call them - their phones didn't have a single bar of signal. Bright looks at his phone and realizes his battery was about to lose its last bar too. He lets out another expletive in his mind.

He looks around the makeshift bungalow set, which he has to admit was pretty awesome. It was set up like a doll house: a small kitchen, a bedroom, a living room that was surrounded by three walls. There were no doors and no fourth wall, allowing space for a camera crew to film with ease.

Bright approaches the bed and wonders if he could just nap the time away when he notices he is alone. Where was Win? This time the expletive escapes his mouth.

Almost stomping his feet, he travels along the shoreline in search for his co-star. He doesn't know exactly why he was so angry or why he was even looking for Win, they were two grown men. Win wasn't some child he could not leave alone. But before he could question his actions further, Bright finds him.

Win is seated on the beachfront, his hair blowing in every direction. He scoops sand into his big palms and shapes them, fingers pressing down firmly. Every time he lays a shape down, Win smiles.

Bright blinks. Win is building a sandcastle.
'What is he a 5-year-old?', Bright scoffs. But notes he could not muster any more outrage. He actually felt like smiling. Smiling? What was wrong with him? It's just a sandcastle. A bad one at that.

As if in agreement with Bright, the heavens let out a scream of thunder. Then the heavy rains came down, washing away the sandcastle and their smiles.