I was sure I was dreaming. Lost inside the myriads of shapes, colors and foreign objects-swirling and dancing behind my closed eyelids. The night before had been spent in a tense silence, looking over and monitoring the tabloids and news channels. So far, there was nothing. But the stark lack of activity proved to be more stressful than relaxing. It was a trap, depleting our energy, making us weaker. And when we don't have an ounce of strength to fight back; they'll attack.

Probably it was the blast of cool air from AC which woke me up. I nestled deeper into the thin duvet, a shiver of chill raising goosebumps on my skin. My mind was groggy, filled with unexplainable randomness and irritation at the sudden decrease in temperature. I peeked a small eye open, to read the temperature, but it was futile. The image of the room swam in front of my eyes, as the haze of the sleep blurred everything out. I managed to catch a peek of the shards of grey light filtering through the crevice between the curtains. The dawn was breaking soon. Which meant I had only a few hours of sleep left before the ruckus of the day ahead caught up to us.

Giving up on my inner banter and focusing on going back to sleep again -which shouldn't be hard- I scooted further and deeper into the bed.

That's when it happened.

Brandon and I had sort of made a truce. You know how children in kindergarten used to do. Divide the bed in half. His side and my side. From day one (since Brandon came to Singapore and we had to share the bed) we had kept our distance. Or me, to be specific.

He had had his fair share of seducing going on, bent on coaxing me to do things my mother wouldn't (I'm not really sure) be proud of. But I had managed pretty well so far.

Talking about right now, I had been sleeping with my back to Brandon, on the far left side of the bed, closer to the big French doors and balcony. The AC had just been over my head, and all I wanted was to scoot closer to Brandon and share some warmth... Bad decision.

The mind-boggling sleepiness was replaced by highly attentive and over-active imagination. My regular heartbeat changed into a shipwreck, and my breathing was as erratic as an orgasming pig.

Just because of that thing touching my thigh.

Now it wasn't as if it was my first time feeling a—what am I saying? It was exactly my first time feeling it. I didn't know what to do. Each and every muscle in my body was pulled taut, frozen at their spots, the moment I had brushed past the noble object at question. What was I supposed to do? Was Brandon awake? If I moved... will it move?

Or will I lose my virginity today? Far from home, on a cold bed, in a hotel room, in a foreign country? If I think about it... the setup was pretty nice. Better than losing it in the back seat of a car, or with hushed whispers in the school hostel, like most girls I knew did. This felt far more romantic, and not to add, exciting.

An inch below my buttocks, the area seemed to have sprung to life. It was there, there was no doubt it. I was painfully aware of the hardness, even though the thought of what was happening made me blush like a maiden (which I was).

Books had served me justice in the aspect that I knew what to expect. Though the amount of scenarios that conjured up in my head... I gulped.

The sound was loud in the otherwise cold, dim and relatively silent room. The only other thing I could hear was the even breathing of Brandon, and the hyperventilation I was beginning to go through.

He couldn't still be asleep, could he? Was it a wet dream? Was I featuring in it? I mentally kicked myself for the childish banter and scolded myself to do something about the situation. I could just leave it like this, be nonchalant about it, pretend not to notice and go back to sleep.

Like where was the guide to handling your boyfriend's wet dreams?

Of course, I didn't want to do any of those. Gone was the sleep, or the remote idea of it. But I had the courage of a sheep and for all I could foresee, I would be stuck in this position until Brandon woke up and did something about it.

"Brandon?" I whispered. I was blinking furiously at the wall, my back to him, my heart on a rollercoaster ride. "Hey?"

No answer.

Was he pretending to be asleep?

I gulped as I imagined him pouncing on me and flipping me over to my back. He would place his knees on the sides of my waist, trapping me on the bed. His shirt would come off first, a knowing smirk on his face as he did so. I closed my eyes, imagining his naked torso and form muscles... Hmm... I should stop giving him those pastries to eat if I wanted to see that firm and taut chest. He would slowly put my fanned hair behind my ears, bending down towards me, a look of sexy concentration on his face. He'll notice me looking at him and a small shy smile will play on his lips. I'll blush, and that smile of his will disappear into a seductive growl.

Brandon will pull my chin up, forcing me to make eye contact and look deeper into his eyes. The feel of his hot hand under my chin will burn up my skin and tinker it to life. I'll yearn for his kiss, the way his lips moved... slowly and enticingly. He'll make me beg to get it. Torturing me with sweet nothings, and seductive gazes. I'll cave in, opening my mouth to beg for a peck of kiss, and he'll grin, a boyish one, and would come closer, just a breath away, and then...

"Tyler?!" Brandon shouted and I gasped, my eyes fluttering open. He was standing in front of me, one of his hands on my shoulders as he shook me awake.

His scream had taken my breath away and sent my heartbeat rocketing through the roof. While I tried to calm my breath, I gave him a once over and he looked normal... then what was the thing poking me in my thigh?!

In a hurry, I threw the duvets towards Brandon's outstretched hands and looked at the freaking TV remote lying on the bed.

Where was the wall so I could slam my head into it?

"I am so stupid," I muttered, elongating the word 'so' to emphasize my point.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked, waving a hand in front of me.

I bit my inner cheeks, heat creeping up on my face. Oh, there I go blushing again. A look at the TV remote, and I picked it up, throwing it away on the sofa chair. "Yeah, absolutely great."

Brandon sensed something was off, and took a seat at the corner of the bed. He came closer to inspect my face, looking at it closely. "You really drool a lot."

"Hey!" I said, punching his chest, and pouting.

He laughed out loud, catching my hand before I showered him with punches. "I am joking. You look really cute all puffed up." He ruffled my hair as I smiled. "But, what were you dreaming about? You looked like a dying fish."

"Brandon Sawyer!" I shouted, hiding my embarrassment behind the loud voice and standing up to hit him.

He stood up too, saving himself from the wrath of my pillows. When it looked like I was drained of energy, he tactfully pulled the pillow out of my hand and threw it away. "Calm down, I was joking. Did you dream something naughty?"

He laughed at his own joke, expecting me to join him (or hit him again), but I stayed silent. A few seconds later he noticed me avoiding his eyes, and sobered up, an unbelieving look on his face.

"Oh my god. You were actually dreamin—"

"I wasn't!"

"It's true, then."

"It's not!"

"I can't believe you've finally gown up."

"I have not!"

"That's disappointing—"

"Wha-what?! I'm grown up—"

"You said no just now."

"I wasn't thinking."

"Ah, too lost in the dream? Was it fun?" He winked.

I gave up, plopping down on the bed again. This could go on and forever and he won't get tired of teasing me.

It's my own fault in the first place.

"Wait. Why did you wake me up in the first place?" I mused, "What was with that scary way of waking up?"

Brandon seemed lost in thought, and I waved my hand in front of him to get his attention. "Huh?"

"You woke me up for something?" I asked again.

"Oh, shit, right!" He scratched his head and made a face. "Bella called. It's bad news."

We hurried through the morning notions like robots. My hand and thumb was glued to the phone screen as I scrolled through the numerous articles that had been posted about Bella overnight. They really chose the best time to publish them. Some called it the next breaking news, others shamed her, and the rest sent her best wishes. But the rest wasn't what everyone was reading right now.

The way the internet was blowing up, it was eccentric to see everything so calm and sombre in reality. The world was changing, instead of fists and stones, people used keyboard and sass to hurt someone. But for once I knew that it was not working well.

Bella was as impeccable as before. She took time in choosing her outfit, and dressed in a serene blue bodice dress, alluding calmness and collectiveness, whereas everything around her was anything but so. Giulia took on a much plainer outfit, but it served its purpose well. Next to Bella no one would blink twice about her presence. Which was the point that we were aiming for. Whatever happened, Giulia must not be dragged through the mud.

Kiki had left half a dozen bodyguards for Bella's use since she couldn't very well provide for herself if she wasn't in contact with her father.

Her father. We were just waiting for the bomb to be dropped. He must be on his way to Singapore by now or at least heard the news.

"The others are waiting downstairs." Brandon, taking on the role of a gentleman, led the three of us to the other contestants waiting for the fifth round of the competition.

We weren't focused, the four of us, and I didn't see Francis around as well. How were we able to go through the day long ordeal of baking when all we could think about was the issue in front of us?

Just as we reached the lobby, a security guard ran towards us. Brandon stopped him from going any further- since his aim was definitely Bella.

"Um, we have a bit of a security issue."

"What do you mean?" Brandon asked.

"Reporters have flooded the gate. It is best if you stay inside, ma'am." He spoke in a rush. The walkie-talkie beeped in his hand, and like a gust of wind he went away.

"He must be joking. The competition is outside... we can't stay inside." I scoffed. "It must be those reporters from yesterday, I'm sure we can handle it."

"Are you sure?" Giulia spoke, walking forward and pointing through a window.

I frowned, walking towards her and peeking a look outside. The scene had me floored. The entire street was packed with reporters. Not the local, journalist ones. But reporters from every nationality and every continent. Brandon came up to me, hissing in a sharp breath at the debacle outside. Local police and the hotel's security kept them at bay, but there was a lot of tuff and tussle going on outside.

How will we ever make it to the competition?

"Did you know about this? Even the police is here."

Bella nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, Tyler. We'll just take the back route—"

"You won't go anywhere, Isabela Rousell."

Alard walked in from behind us, surrounded by important looking people and intimidating bodyguards. He nodded to his men, and swift like a knife they trapped Bella and Giulia into a corner.

With an unpleasant look towards Brandon and me, he spoke to Bella, "You'll be coming with us."

*****

I had so much fun writing this Bryler moment! Don't forget to , and if you enjoyed it too <3

Yay, for Indian sweets! All my Indian readers, make yourself known in the comments ;)