Lovebirds

nine

"Alright, boys. Let's see what you got."

It was the early hours of their day, barely 6:00 am, but Naira wanted them up early enough to practice their new dance choreography, so she could give her final opinion before proceeding to their appointments. Unfortunately for her, they were sleeping against the wall already. 

Naira stood in front of them, a hand on her hip and a disapproving glare. "Honestly," she muttered to herself before clapping her hands loudly. "Wake up!"

The three men gave a jolt, Kyle falling over with a groan as he pulled his hoodie over his head like a cocoon to protect him from her wrath. Wesley and Rayan rubbed the fatigue from their eyes blinking up at her as if they were toddlers from a nap. 

"I know it's early, but I need you to work with me here. We still haven't gotten to your appointments for the day," she sighed as she glanced at her watch. "We're already behind schedule."

"Five more minutes, Mom," said Kyle groggily before his breathing slowed into a deep slumber. 

"Kyle, wake up!" she yelled.

The poor man woke up in such a shock that his head banged against the wall mirror behind him, and his hands pulled the hoodie from his head, rubbing at the injured spot. Kyle's fingers tugged at his blonde hair, further mussing it. His dark, tired eyes trained on her in confusion. 

Rayan, finding the situation amusing, clapped a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "There, there. You can't disobey her majesty's orders," he teased before winking at Naira. 

She ignored him. "Get in position. I'll start the music in a minute."

Exhaling a deep breath, Rayan stood to his feet, outstretching a hand to help Kyle regain his balance. His eyes still held amusement in them as he pulled his friend to his feet, nodding at Wesley to get into their rightful poses before the music started.

Kyle rolled his sleeves. "I'm going to be honest, chief. My moves will be slurred with sleep."

Wesley's lips cracked a smile. 

"Yeah, yeah," waved off Rayan. "I highly doubt that our beloved manager is letting us sleep."

"It's too early," groaned Kyle again. "Can I go back to bed now?"

"No," came the chorus of replies. 

Raising her three fingers in the air, Naira did a silent countdown. When her fingers reached the zero mark, she played the music on their Bluetooth speakers, allowing the melody to vibrate throughout the room, the rhythm following the movement of the band in an instant. 

She was surprised. Even thought they were exhausted and drugged with their sleep, the second she played their new song, it was like the music riveted their focus, and the beat was constant to the smooth movement of their feet sliding against the floor, rotation of their pelvis, the synergy between them as sharp as a diamond's edge. 

Rayan's position placed him in the middle of their routine for a vast majority, and she began to understand why he was the leader of the group, why his popularity soared through the charts along with his friends. 

Wesley and Kyle easily matched their moves to Rayan, never missing the beat of the song and rolling their bodies to the vibratos and baritone voices that blasted through the speakers. Although the sound rumbled in her ears, she was fascinated by their ability to switch from the immature, sophomoric triplets to the sophisticated, hardworking Red Knights in a flash. 

Everything about them lured fans into a web of comfort, captivated by the bright flare in their eyes, the contrast of their personalities shown in the rhythm of their voices and parallel to their dancing. Her eyes wandered back to Rayan.