zkdlin

The villa buzzed with the kind of easy, familiar warmth that only came when the Bellinghams managed to gather everyone in one place. Post-season in Madrid had been a whirlwind—trophies, travel, endless expectations—but tonight the sprawling garden and open living spaces felt like a proper exhale.

Strings of soft lights hung between trees, casting gentle glows over the stone patio where Mark was manning a makeshift grill with the focus of someone who refused to let anyone else touch the meat. Denise moved between the kitchen and garden like the quiet conductor she always was, refilling glasses and laughing at old stories.

Jobe had actually made it over from Germany, sprawled across one of the oversized outdoor sofas with the kind of dramatic exhaustion only a younger brother could pull off. Morgan Rogers and his partner had driven up too, along with a couple of Jude’s closest teammates who had become more like family over the long campaign.

You were in the middle of it all, a glass of wine in hand, moving between groups as the evening stretched. The successful season had left everyone in high spirits, and the celebration felt intimate rather than performative.

Jude had started the night relatively normal, laughing with his dad by the grill, teasing Jobe about his latest training stories, pulling you close for the occasional kiss or hand on your lower back.

But as drinks flowed and the hours passed, the alcohol slowly stripped away his usual careful filter. The version of him that always kept one eye on the room, aware of everyone watching, simply faded. What remained was pure, unfiltered Jude: touch-oriented to an almost comical degree.

He never strayed far. If you wandered into the kitchen to help Denise with more plates, he appeared a minute later, leaning against the counter beside you, fingers absently tracing the hem of your top while he asked what you were doing. If you stepped out to the garden to chat with Morgan’s partner near the flowers, Jude followed shortly after, sliding an arm around your waist as though he’d been there the whole time.

It was never dramatic, he just... gravitated. Like the planet had shifted slightly and you were the new center.

At one point you ended up standing beside the long outdoor sofa, talking with Denise and Morgan’s partner about some upcoming family trip. The conversation flowed easily, laughter rising when Denise recalled a particularly chaotic holiday from years ago.

Jude had been sitting on the sofa listening, or at least pretending to, for a solid thirty seconds. Then, without a word or change in his expression, he reached over, hand settling firmly at your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion he guided you backward and settled you sideways across his lap, your legs draping over his thigh as if it were the most natural seat in the garden.

His arm looped around your back to keep you steady, chin already resting on your shoulder as he picked up the thread of whatever Jobe was saying across from him.

You blinked, half-annoyed, half-amused, twisting in his hold. “Jude,” you said, voice carrying that familiar mix of exasperation. “I was in the middle of a conversation, you know.”

He hummed, eyes still on the group, fingers absently playing with the ends of your hair. “You can talk from here, darling.” His voice was low, warm, completely convinced he was being reasonable. One hand stayed spread across your thigh, thumb tracing slow circles like it was helping him listen better.

Denise let out a bright laugh from her spot on the arm of the sofa, shaking her head. “He’s been like this since forever, but the drink really brings it out.”

Jobe groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “For God’s sake, he’s doing it again. Mate, she’s two feet away. Let her breathe.”

Jude blinked, genuinely puzzled, glancing between you and his brother. “What? She’s right here.” His arm tightened just a fraction around you, as if to prove the point.

You rolled your eyes, trying to push off his lap, but he simply adjusted his grip, pulling you back down with that effortless strength.

“Stop moving. You’re comfy.”

The group dissolved into laughter, the kind that came from watching someone they loved be utterly, shamelessly gone. Morgan exchanged a knowing look with his partner, both of them grinning like they’d seen this coming. One of the teammates muttered something about “post-season Jude” under his breath, earning another round of chuckles.

You swatted at Jude’s chest, fighting a smile. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this.”

He just smiled that slow, dopey smile, chin still on your shoulder as he pressed a lazy kiss to the side of your neck. “M’not insufferable, I’m affectionate.” His fingers hooked loosely through one of your belt loops, holding you in place while someone else picked up a new story.

The conversation moved on around you, plates of food passed, glasses refilled, but Jude remained exactly where he was, playing with your fingers, resting his head against yours, stealing small kisses whenever you paused to sip your drink.

Later, when you stood up to grab another bottle of water from the kitchen, he followed without hesitation. “Where you going?” he asked, voice soft as he caught up, two fingers slipping through your belt loop again to keep you close.

“Water, baby. Three metres away.”

He hummed, unconvinced, trailing after you anyway. Inside the kitchen he leaned against the island while you opened the fridge, then reached out and pulled you back against his chest the second you closed the door.

“Missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling into your hair like you’d been gone for hours.

You turned in his arms, laughing despite yourself. “You are ridiculous tonight, William.”

“Am not.” But there was a spark in his eyes now, that playful edge emerging as he realized how much your annoyance entertained him. He dipped his head, kissing you slow and deliberate, then pulled back just enough to grin. “You’re cute when you’re annoyed with me.”

The teasing only got worse after that. Every time you tried to step away to talk to someone else, he’d find a way to reel you back, sometimes with an arm around your shoulders, sometimes by simply patting the spot beside him until you gave in.

At one point, while you were mid-sentence with Jobe about his season, Jude hooked an arm around your waist and tugged you down onto his lap again, chin on your shoulder, completely ignoring the way you swatted at him.

“Jude, I swear—”

“What?” He looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes, the picture of sincerity. “You were standing, now you’re sitting. Better for everyone.”

Jobe made a gagging noise. “He’s actually lost it. Mum, do something.”

Denise just laughed from across the garden, raising her glass. “Leave him be, it’s been a long season.”

The evening carried on like that, warm, overlapping conversations, music drifting through the open doors, plates slowly emptying. Jude remained glued to you in that absentminded way, convinced the whole time that he was acting completely normal.

Only much later, when Mark finally pointed it out directly—“Son, you’ve had Y/N on your lap for forty minutes straight”—did he pause, look down at where you were comfortably settled against him, and blink slowly.

“…Oh.”

A beat of silence. Then he shrugged, pulled you a little closer, and carried on exactly as he was, pressing another lazy kiss to your temple while the laughter erupted around you. You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling too hard to truly fight it.

The garden lights had softened into a warmer glow as the evening deepened, the sky above the villa shifting from dusky blue to true night. Music still played low from the speakers, but the conversations had grown mellower, voices overlapping less urgently as plates emptied and drinks slowed. People were scattered more loosely now, some clustered near the grill where Mark was finishing the last rounds, others lounging on the sofas with the kind of comfortable fatigue that came from good food and better company.

Everyone was a little buzzed, the successful season’s weight finally lifting in a haze of laughter and easy silences.

You slipped away quietly after a while, telling Denise you just needed to check on something upstairs in one of the guest rooms, a forgotten charger Gio had mentioned earlier. Nothing urgent, but the kind of small task that felt necessary in the middle of a long night.

The villa’s interior was cooler, quieter, the distant hum of the gathering filtering up the wide staircase like background noise. Your bare feet padded softly on the tiles as you made your way down the hallway toward Jude’s bedroom wing, the familiar scent of the house wrapping around you.

You didn’t hear him at first to be honest, then the soft pad of footsteps followed, unhurried but inevitable.

Jude appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, silhouetted against the warm light from below, his shirt slightly rumpled from the evening’s lounging. He didn’t say anything right away, just closed the distance with that same absentminded pull that had defined the whole night, one hand already reaching for your waist before he’d fully caught up.

“Thought you were just getting water,” he murmured, voice lower now that it was just the two of you, the alcohol still softening his edges.

His fingers spread wide against the small of your back, pulling you gently but firmly against him as you paused in the hallway outside his bedroom door.

You turned in his hold, half-exasperated, half-smiling. “I told you I’d be quick, you didn’t have to follow me all the way up here.”

He hummed, not really listening, his head already dipping to press a slow kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Missed you,” he said simply, like it explained everything.

His hands were everywhere in that lazy, tipsy way—sliding up your sides, one settling at the nape of your neck while the other traced the curve of your hip, tugging you closer until there was no space left between you.

He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, eyes heavy-lidded but bright, a small, dopey smile playing on his lips as he studied your face in the dim hallway light. “You look pretty like this, baby, all soft from the wine.”

You laughed quietly, the sound muffled against his chest as he leaned in again, but he caught your chin gently, tilting your face up so he could kiss you properly. It started slow, familiar, but the alcohol had loosened something in him.

He smiled into it almost immediately, the curve of his mouth unmistakable as he deepened the kiss, one hand threading into your hair while the other slipped under the hem of your top, palm warm against your skin. He tasted faintly of the drinks he’d had downstairs, and when he pulled back for air he didn’t go far, forehead resting against yours, eyes half-closed as he stared at you.

“Seriously,” he murmured, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “How do you always look this good, princess? Even when you’re trying to escape me.” The teasing edge was there, playful and affectionate, but his hands kept moving, tracing your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he backed you gently against the wall beside his bedroom door.

Another kiss followed, slower this time, his body pressing into yours with that natural, unselfconscious need. He smiled again when your fingers tightened in his shirt, nipping lightly at your lower lip before soothing it with another kiss.

“Stay here a minute. Don’t need to go back down yet.”

You tried to protest, half-laughing between kisses. “C'mon, everyone’s still outside—”

“They’re fine,” he whispered against your jaw, lips trailing lower to your neck, hands sliding down to grip your hips as he pressed you more firmly against the wall. His touch was handsy but never rushed, exploring in that tipsy, appreciative way, palms mapping the familiar curves of your body like he was rediscovering them. He pulled back once more to look at you, eyes dark and soft, that wide, genuine smile breaking across his face again. “You’re my favorite person in the whole house right now, don’t leave me alone with them.”

The kiss that followed was deeper, lazier, his body molding against yours as one hand slipped further under your top, thumb stroking along your ribs. He made a quiet, contented sound when you arched into him, smiling into the kiss once more, the expression so purely happy it made your chest tighten.

“Love when you do that,” he murmured, barely pulling away, lips brushing yours with every word. “Makes me forget there’s anyone else here.”

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, studying the soft, unfocused warmth in his eyes and the way his smile lingered like he couldn’t help it. A soft laugh bubbled out of you, half-amused, half-disbelieving. “You’re so gone, William,” you teased, fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you took him in, the flushed cheeks, the heavy lids, the complete lack of awareness that he was trailing after you like a shadow. “I mean it. I’ve never seen you this far gone. You’re properly out of it tonight, baby.”

He blinked slowly, still smiling that dopey, content smile, like the observation barely registered.

“M’not gone,” he protested softly, but there was no conviction in it. His hands stayed exactly where they were, one slipping higher under your top while the other squeezed your hip, pulling you flush against him again. “Just… happy. With you.”

He leaned in, capturing your lips once more, the kiss slower and deeper this time, his tongue brushing yours in a way that made your knees feel a little weaker. When he pulled back, forehead still pressed to yours, he was staring at you again, really staring, like he was committing every detail to memory in his hazy state.

Downstairs the laughter rose and fell, distant and warm, but up here in the hallway it was just the two of you, Jude’s hands steady and affectionate, his kisses teasing and thorough, the alcohol stripping away any remaining self-consciousness until all that remained was the simple, overwhelming want to keep you close.

He didn’t rush, he just held you there against the wall, kissing you like the rest of the night could wait a little longer, smiling every time you laughed or tried to remind him there were people downstairs waiting.

For now, in this quiet pocket of the villa, you were exactly where he needed you to be.

author's note — if you enjoyed and would like to see more of my football works, click here :DD if you ever catch me writing a non-affectionate jude bellingham, assume i've been hacked lol. love whoever read till here, byeee <3

By 7 PM, Jude’s cab pulled up to the sleek hotel where you were staying. Jude hadn’t warned you he was coming… too eager to surprise you after everything. He paid the driver and walked into the lobby, scanning for directions to your suite number.

Jude stood outside your suite door, heart pounding just a little. After confirming the right room number from the front desk, he reached out and pressed the doorbell—once. A simple ding-dong echoed inside. Jude waited, suddenly hyper-aware of his travel-worn clothes and messy hair from being on planes all day… but too excited to care.

The door swung open, revealing you—in casual clothes, even barefoot. Before you could even say hi properly, Jude launched himself forward, arms locking around your shoulders in a tight hug. You staggered back slightly from the force of it—but instantly wrapped your arms around Jude too, squeezing him like you hadn’t seen him in years, even though it’d only been weeks.

Your laugh was warm and relieved, arms tightening around Jude like you never wanted to let go. You buried your face in the crook of Jude’s neck for a second—breathing him in after weeks apart. The hug lasted longer than expected… no rush to pull away. Just two people who missed each other so much finally reconnecting. A soft kiss landed on Jude’s cheek—sweet.

You effortlessly lifted Jude—one strong arm hooked under his thighs while the other grabbed both suitcases. With practiced ease, you kicked the hotel room door shut behind them. Jude clung to you like a koala, legs locked around your waist as they moved inside. The luggage clattered softly against the floor by the entrance—you weren't letting go of Jude just yet.

Your teasing grin widened as you finally set Jude down on the bed—only to immediately poke his chest playfully. The 6-4 scoreline was still fresh, and you couldn’t resist roasting England’s aggressiveness.

“6-4? You Englands are greedy” you snorted, “Couldn’t just settle for a normal 2-0 like civilized people.” The sarcasm dripped… but it was affectionate. You loved watching Jude and his teammates dominate on the pitch.

Jude rolled his eyes at your teasing—classic him, always cracking jokes after matches. He couldn’t stay mad.

“Greedy?” Jude echoed, smirking as he pulled you down with him on the bed “It’s just right.” Jude didn’t care. Right now, he just wanted to kiss his boyfriend stupid after weeks apart.

Jude flopped onto his back beside you after kissing you senseless—sprawling like a starfish, limbs taking up way more space than necessary. One arm draped over your waist lazily, pulling you slightly closer without fully cuddling. Just Jude—tired from flight as he stared at the ceiling. You turned your head slightly, studying Jude’s relaxed expression. Your voice was soft—curious.

“Sleepy?” you asked, nudging Jude’s shoulder gently with your own. The question was simple… just checking if the post-pleasure crash had hit him hard enough to pass out right there.

“Not really. I slept through the flight.” Jude’s mind wandered. Then remind.

“Tomorrow,” he started “I'm gonna… bring you home” The ‘home’ part carried weight—the Bellinghams’ house, meeting Jude’s family properly as boyfriends…not childhood best friends.

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up at the mention of going home with Jude—That changed everything. The relationships between two families.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling softly. The Bellinghams had known you for years… but this visit would be different. Official. A mix of nerves and excitement buzzed in him—meeting them again under new terms.

Jude shifted onto his side. The post-game high hadn’t fully worn off—his skin buzzed with energy. It was perfect clubbing time in Spain… neon lights, music pulsing.He turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Wanna hit the club?” he asked—voice already excited at the idea of dancing and taking shots to celebrate his win.

“Of course you would suggest that” you rolled your eyes but smirked—Jude’s post-match energy was predictable. Of course he’d want to hit a club. The snort was affectionate, though. You weren't saying no… just teasing Jude for being so predictable.

Jude whined dramatically—nose scrunched, lips pouting—as he shoved your shoulder again. Just putting on a scene because why not.

“C’monnn,” he drawled, dragging out the word, “Let’s gooo.” The neediness was dialed up to 100… relentless until you gave in and agreed to clubbing.

“Fine—geez” you finally relented with an amused chuckle, pushing yourself up from the bed. You knew Jude hated doing anything fun solo—especially clubbing. The second you moved to get ready, Jude’s pout vanished… replaced by a bright grin. Victory: achieved. Now they’d both dress and head out—probably in matching chaotic energy.

The club was just a few minutes’ walk from the hotel—close enough that they arrived quickly. The second they stepped inside, the bass thumped through their chests, lights strobing wildly. The energy was electric: crowds dancing, drinks being poured… pure chaos in the best way. Jude immediately brightened—this was his element.

You, ever the provider, had your wallet out before Jude could even blink. Whatever Jude wanted—shots? Done. Another round? Paid for instantly. The bartender slid drinks their way without hesitation, you tipped generously too. You didn’t care about the cost… seeing Jude happy and loose was worth every euro.

Jude, buzzing from the shots, grabbed your hand and yanked you toward the dance floor—no hesitation. The music pulsed through them as Jude started moving shamelessly. He wasn’t a perfect dancer… but he was enthusiastic, swaying with hip movements and grinning like an idiot. Pure joy radiated off him. He pressed close, grinding against you in rhythm with the beat. The alcohol had him extra tactile, his body loose and playful, arms looping around your shoulders to pull you closer. They were a tangle of limbs under the club lights.

Jude was wasted—slumped over your back like a sleepy koala, limbs loose and face smushed against your shoulder. Every few steps, Jude mumbled something incoherent.

“You’re handsomeee…can I have your number?” With that cheeky grin you can’t see because you’re busy focusing on the road. You carried him effortlessly—used to Jude’s post-celebration drunk antics—and just focused on getting them safely back to the hotel.

You entertained him back anyway: “Can’t. I have a boyfriend…his name is Jude Bellingham”

Jude’s hands wandered clumsily—tracing your jawline, poking your chest, even squishing your cheeks like a tipsy toddler discovering texture. Every touch was sloppy and affectionate, Jude giggling quietly to himself. His fingers kept exploring your face… then sliding underneath your shirt.

“Really?...That's too bad…I think you deserve two boyfriends. I’m Jude Bellingham, can I get your number?” Jude muttered again. This is going to be a long night taking care of drunk Jude. But fine, you can do this.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, sharp and unforgiving—directly onto Jude’s face. He groaned, a low, miserable sound escaping him as his head pounded like it was being split open with an axe. The hangover hit him full-force: dry mouth, nausea creeping at the edges of his stomach. His body was tangled awkwardly in the sheets—arm thrown over Sea's chest like he owned you while sleeping, one leg hooked over yours too. It wasn’t graceful or cute—just his usual disaster sleep position that always left both of them stuck to each other by morning no matter how they started out at night. Jude didn’t move yet though… not even when sunlight made his eyeballs throb worse. Too busy suffering silently and regretting every single shot from last night.

Jude shifted slightly—careful, even through the hangover haze—because he knew. You always took care of him like this. Without words, without being asked twice. You’d wake up first in the mornings after nights out and wordlessly fetch medicines you always pack with you, grab a glass of water… So Jude nudged you again with his forehead—a soft bump against your shoulder—half-conscious but intentional. It wasn’t demanding or whiny, just that quiet trust between you two where actions spoke louder than groggy apologies ever could.

“What is it…babe?” Your voice was rough with sleep—low and sleep-warm—and it made Jude’s chest tighten for a second, despite the pounding headache. He didn’t answer right away. Just blinked slowly at you through half-lidded eyes, the sunlight still hurting him but not enough to stop this quiet moment between you two.

Then he swallowed hard, his throat dry as hell and finally managed:

"My head hurts…" His words came out sluggish, quieter than usual. No dramatic whining—just stating facts like some pathetic drunk who’d learned his lesson last night but forgot immediately upon waking up today anyway. And then… almost shyly…He leaned forward slightly—not asking outright—but hinting that maybe water or medicine would help…if you wake up and take it for him.

“Mhmm…” you hummed. The bed creaked softly as you untangled yourself from Jude’s weight—careful not to jostle him too much—and sat up. No eye-roll, no sigh of annoyance. Just a quiet routine. The kind that had formed over months of this: you taking care of him after anything. You padded barefoot to your luggage, there’s a bag where you kept everything essential.

Then the mini fridge next—cold water poured into a glass, condensation forming on its surface as you carried both back toward the bedroom. Jude watched through hazy eyes… still curled under blankets like a guilty but hungover stray cat waiting for scraps. And here you came anyway…

Jude took the glass and pills slowly, fingers brushing against your palm—just a brief touch. He swallowed two painkillers with a sip of water, wincing at how even that small action hurt his head. Then he glanced over at you as you lay back down… eyes already closing again like sleep was pulling you under before you could fully wake up. His parents were expecting them both to arrive together by 7AM in the morning, it’s nearly 6AM right now.

That look crossed his face. The one you knew too well—half-lidded eyes, the way Jude’s gaze dropped briefly to your lips before flickering back up with quiet heat. Jude scooted closer on the bed without breaking eye contact—slowly now—as if asking permission without words. The early morning light still filtered through the curtains. But neither cared about time anymore…you took him to party at the club but yeah. He wanted more. And it’s not like you’re going to say no to his face.

“Gonna reward me for third place?” Jude smirked. Nothing new, really. The bed dipped under Jude’s weight as he closed the distance between you two, his movements smooth despite the lingering hangover fog.

“Yeah…you’re lucky I love you” you pinch the bridge of your nose. Because nobody asks for morning sex right in your face without saying good morning first. But you have an exception.

He dropped the lube and condom onto the mattress beside you—no teasing or slow buildup this time, just focused intent. His hands found your waist first, warm on your bare chest as he leaned closer.

Then his mouth crashed into yours—not rough, but hungry. A kiss that tasted like morning breath and regret of consuming too much alcohol. Jude didn’t speak—just kissed deeper while one hand roaming your body.

“You’re not tired?” You groaned against his mouth. Jude broke the kiss just enough to huff against your lips—annoyed you’d even ask that. Tired? Yeah, his head still pounded a little from last night’s drinking. His body felt heavy. But this? Morning sex with you? That was non-negotiable.

So he rolled his eyes, affectionately before diving back in, kissing you harder this time—all teeth and desperation. One of Jude’s hands slid up your chest while the other tangled roughly in your hair…

“Do you want me to start the day happy? Of course yes. So shut up and do me.” Jude huff, this can fix his hangover pain right now—he believes.

Jude didn’t hesitate—boxers already tossed aside, muscles flexing as he moved. When you grabbed the lube and squeezed some onto your finger, Jude’s breath hitched slightly—watching with darkening eyes. No teasing now, just quiet anticipation. He lay back against the pillows without being told, one arm stretched above his head while his other hand reached for you automatically—pulling you closer by your hip like a silent “come here.” The early morning light caught every scar and tan line on your skin…

The kiss was deep and slow—different from the frantic one earlier. Jude melted into it instantly—lips parting under yours with a soft sound—and then came the sensation of your finger pressing gently against him. He tensed for half a second, always did at first, but didn’t pull away. Just breathed through his nose and leaned deeper into the kiss… letting you work him open slowly.

Jude tilted his head to the side instinctively, giving you better access to his neck—his breath coming quicker now as your lips and teeth worked over that sensitive spot just below his ear. He loved this. Loved how precise you were—how you knew exactly where Jude liked it, how hard or soft to press… like muscle memory from months of intimacy. A quiet moan slipped out when your fingers curled just right inside him—a sound half-surprise, half-relief—and one of Jude’s hands fisted in the sheets beside him while the other gripped your shoulder.

Jude made a tiny, frustrated noise—actually whined—when your fingers left him when it was about to get good. He was right there, so close to that sweet tension-building pleasure… and then you pulled away to strip. His chest rose faster now, eyes tracking every movement as you peeled off your shirt, kicked out of sweatpants. Jude bit his lower lip unconsciously—equal parts impatient and turned on by the way you moved with quiet confidence.

But damn if it didn’t feel like forever while he just lay there bare already… watching you undress slowly in the morning light.

Jude’s gaze traveled over you—appreciating every defined line of your torso, the way your shoulders flexed slightly as you pulled off the last piece of clothing.

You weren’t just hot—you look like someone who could probably bench-press half your teammates without breaking a sweat. And Jude? He loved it. Loved how you looked right now—all lean muscle and confidence—and suddenly he was impatient again. No more waiting. So before you could even crawl back onto the bed properly, Jude reached out and yanked you down by a hand on your shoulder…

The kiss was feral—Jude’s lips crashed into yours with zero finesse, just raw need. Like he hadn’t kissed you in years instead of minutes. His hands immediately fisted in your hair, tilting your head to deepen it further while his tongue slid against yours—hot and demanding. Jude breathed through his nose between desperate kisses, chest rising fast as if oxygen didn’t matter nearly as much as this.

Jude exhaled sharply as the kiss broke—chest still heaving—but his eyes stayed locked on you while you grabbed the condom packet. Jude watched, lips slightly parted, as you stroked yourself—slow and deliberate—to get fully hard. The sight of him like this: naked, waiting, legs loosely bent clearly affected you too. His own stomach tightened with heat when he noticed the way your eyes darkened—how your breath hitched just a little at the view of Jude already open and ready for you. Then the rustle of foil as you rolled the condom down properly before shifting closer on your knees between his thighs. Jude exhaled shakily—anticipation coiling low in his belly.

The kiss was soft at first—just lips meeting, tender and lingering—but then you trailed down Jude’s jawline with his mouth, pressing warm kisses along the sensitive skin there. Jude shivered. By the time your lips reached that spot just below his ear—the crook of his neck where you knew he was extra sensitive—his breath hitched audibly.

And then came it: That first brush of your tip against him… tentative but deliberate. Jude tensed instinctively—not from fear or hesitation, but because anticipation always made him hold his breath like this.

Jude’s fingers dug into your back—nails grazing skin lightly but possessively—as you pushed deeper. Not rough enough to hurt, just… needing to hold on. Every slow inch sent sparks through his body, he bit down on his lower lip hard, trying not to make too much noise even though they were alone. His legs lifted slightly without thinking, knees bending to give you better access as the stretch filled him perfectly. No pain yet—just that delicious pressure of being connected like this after weeks of distance. Jude exhaled shakily through his nose… eyes fluttering shut for a second before reopening again—to watch you.

Jude’s breathing turned uneven—each roll of your hips sending waves of pleasure through him. He wasn’t tense anymore, his body had melted into the rhythm, adjusting perfectly to your pace like they’d done this a thousand times, because they basically had. A quiet moan escaped Jude as you hit that spot inside him—the one that always made his toes curl—and his hand slid from your back up to tangle in your hair instead. Not pulling, just… holding on.

His arousal was obvious—chest flushed, lips parted with little gasps.

Jude’s gaze was locked onto yours—dark, unfocused with pleasure—as he watched the way your cock disappeared and reappeared inside him. The visual of it alone was filthy—the glisten of sweat on your skin, the rhythmic snap of hips meeting his body—and it sent heat straight to his core. He couldn’t look away. Every thrust made a soft sound between you two—the slap of skin, Jude’s hitched breaths.

His eyes can’t stop tracing every detail—hungry—as you move above him. The sharp V-line of your stomach, the faint trail of hair leading downward… all leading to that cock, thick and relentless as it hammered into him with increasing roughness. He loved this view. Loved how effortlessly strong you looked right now—muscles flexing with each thrust, sweat glistening on your shoulders—and how completely focused you were on pleasuring him. No teasing slowdowns anymore, just pure, unfiltered fucking that had Jude’s head spinning and his hips lifting instinctively to meet yours.

Jude’s curses were breathless—mumbled against his own shoulder or the pillow when they slipped out, too overwhelmed to care about volume. “Fuck—” Each one punched out between gasps as you got rougher, hips snapping harder now with that athlete’s strength. His nails raked lightly down your back— A reflex, his body craving more friction even while being completely dominated by your rhythm. The bed creaked softly beneath them… morning light still painting everything gold around their tangled bodies.

The rhythmic thud-thud of the headboard slamming against the wall echoed through the bedroom—each sharp impact syncing with your punishing pace. Jude barely noticed it over his own ragged breathing and moans.

The creaking wood blended into their sounds—the slap of skin, Jude’s bitten-off whimpers when a particularly deep thrust hit just right, your quiet grunts as you worked him open relentlessly.

Jude hated how effortlessly you could pin him—how one large hand easily trapped both of his wrists above his head, holding them there with zero struggle. It was infuriating… and hot as hell. Being smaller and leaner than you meant he’d never been manhandled like this by anyone else—no other guy had the strength or size to just… restrain him so completely during sex.

And right now? You weren't even trying, it came naturally—the way your fingers curled around his wrists, keeping them in place while your hips kept driving into him. No chance to squirm away if Jude wanted to.

Jude was already breathless, sweaty—his body thrumming with pleasure—but you showed no signs of slowing down. That fucking stamina. Your endurance wasn’t a joke. Just endless thrusts that made Jude’s thighs tremble slightly from the constant stimulation… his earlier frustration at being pinned long forgotten under waves of sensation.

Jude’s climax hit him like a freight train—sudden and overwhelming. One second he was gasping, body strung tight with pleasure… The next, his back arched slightly off the mattress as he came untouched, stripes of white landing messily across his stomach. His toes curled into the sheets, muscles tensed for a heartbeat before melting into blissful aftershocks. Pinned beneath your weight and strength? Yeah—that did it. The combination of being dominated physically and mentally pushed him over too fast. Now he just lay there dazed… catching his breath while you kept going above him.

The shift was immediate—you released Jude’s wrists, instead bracing your arms on either side of Jude’s head as you leaned down to kiss him. It wasn’t rough or demanding, it was loving. Soft lips meeting softly, a tender contrast to the brutal pace of your hips still hammering into him. Each deep thrust punched another moan out of Jude—his body overstimulated but not wanting it to stop. The kiss swallowed most of those sounds… just quiet whimpers against your mouth now. This relentless fucking wrapped in affection—the kind only they could balance like this.

The sensation of your teeth on his neck—gentle but possessive—sent a shiver through Jude just as he felt the hitch in your rhythm. Then came those last few deep, grinding thrusts… all the way in, holding there as you came with a low groan muffled against his skin. Jude gasped quietly at the sudden fullness—the warmth between them—as you stayed pressed together like that for a long moment.

The kiss was lazy now—soft, almost drowsy after the intensity of what just happened. You pressed your lips to Jude’s gently, a quiet “mhmm” humming against them before slowly pulling away.

Then you carefully withdrew, moving with deliberate slowness to avoid discomfort for either of them. The room was thick with the scent of sex and their mingled sweat—but neither seemed bothered by it. You rolled onto your side next to Jude…

“Let’s take a shower, starfish” you chuckled at Jude’s laying position after resting for a while. Jude cracked an eye open at the nickname—starfish—and scoffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. If anything, he found it kinda cute how you came up with weird pet names for him.

"Shower sounds good," Jude mumbled, stretching his arms above his head before sitting up slowly. His body ached pleasantly—the kind of soreness that reminded you of exactly what happened this morning.

You took the driver’s seat without question—Jude never drove anyway. He doesn't even have a license yet, his mom has always picked him up or Jude just relied on teammates or now, you for rides. The car ride was quiet but not tense—just the hum of the engine and Jude watching whatever on his phone. They pulled into Jude's neighborhood, familiar streets leading to his house… The place looked fancy as ever: manicured lawn, curtains in the windows slightly open like someone was peeking out. Jude swallowed hard. First time bringing a boyfriend here.

You noticed Jude’s glance—silent but asking for reassurance—and without a word, you leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. No pressure in it. Just warmth… something soft to ground him before facing his family. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before you pulled back, thumb brushing lightly over Jude’s cheekbone as if saying “you got this” without words. Then you unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of the car—rounding to open Jude's door for him like an automatic gesture by now.

The warm smell of breakfast hit them as soon as they stepped inside—Jude’s mom stood at the stove in a colorful headwrap and long apron, stirring a pot with focused energy. At the table sat Jobe—his younger brother, already scrolling on his phone while waiting for food. They both turned when Jude walked in… followed closely by you.

Jobe blinked once. Then twice. Oh. His eyes darted between them—the way Jude subtly leaned into your side—Jobe knew. His smirk widened—so obvious—and he muffled a snort into his palm when Jude glared at him.

Meanwhile, their mom turned around from the stove, wooden spoon in hand… and her face instantly lit up.

"Jude!" she exclaimed in that rich, warm voice of hers—all love and no hesitation as she immediately opened her arms for a hug.

You stayed where he was for half a second… suddenly aware this was the moment. First meeting his girlfriend's parents. Except… it wasn't just any girlfriend here, it was him.

Jude practically launched himself into his mom’s arms—hugging her tightly. She hugged him back just as fiercely, rocking slightly while squeezing him. The scent of spices and her floral perfume wrapped around them. Then she pulled back, cupping Jude's face with both hands to look at him properly—eyes soft but scanning for any changes.

Only then did she notice you standing nearby… quiet and respectful near the doorway. Her gaze shifted to you—and immediately softened even more.

Mrs. Bellingham didn’t hesitate—she pulled you into a hug just as warm and tight as the one she’d given Jude. Just motherly love extended to you like you were already family—which, in her mind, you basically were.

She squeezed you gently, patting your back twice before releasing you… then immediately cupped your face with both hands—studying it closely like she always did. You have grown into a handsome gentleman, not the same 10 years old kid carrying her Jude home after he hurted his ankle during a football match.

Jude took a deep breath—suddenly nervous despite knowing his family liked you.

They’d all known you for years, you’d come over for holidays, eaten meals at their table, even helped Jobe with homework. But now? The relationship status was officially boyfriend. So Jude cleared his throat slightly and said—calm but firm:

"Ma…uhm Y/N. He’s my boyfriend." The words hung in the air—just stating it plainly like that was how things were now…

Mrs. Bellingham’s eyebrows shot up, her spoon still hovering mid-air like she’d frozen in place.

"What?" she repeated—voice higher than usual with surprise. "When was this?" She turned fully toward them now, eyes darting between Jude and you as if expecting one of them to laugh and say “just kidding!” But no.

Meanwhile, Jobe bit his lip hard—trying not to grin like an idiot because this reaction from his mom was gold. His dad remained silent for a beat… just absorbing the news calmly from where he stood near the fridge.

Your voice was calm as you answered honestly.

"Last summer, Mrs. Bellingham."

His mom blinked rapidly, spoon now clutched in both hands as her brain recalculated. Last summer meant… they'd been dating for nearly a year without telling her?

Jude stepped forward immediately. "Mom… I’m sorry." he said, voice softer than usual—genuine regret lacing his words. "We didn’t mean to hide it from you guys… we just—we weren’t sure how you’d react."

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. The truth was? They had talked about telling their parents eventually—but Jude had been nervous, worried about how conservative some relatives might be… so they waited. Now that silence felt heavy in hindsight.

Mrs. Bellingham turned off the stove with a quiet click, wiping her hands on her apron before exhaling slowly—like she was organizing her thoughts.

Then she spoke, calm but firm: "I’m not mad… just surprised." She looked between them again—not angry, not disappointed… more processing.

"Y’all have been friends for how long? And now you’re dating?" A small frown creased her brow—not in disapproval of Y/N himself she clearly adored you, but at the idea that they’d kept this from them for so long.

Your voice was steady—earnest and sincere as you spoke directly to Mrs. Bellingham, meeting her eyes without flinching.

"I love Jude genuinely, Mrs. Bellingham," you said, the weight of your words clear in every syllable. Then added: "And I promise… I’ll take care of him."

Mrs. Bellingham exhaled again—long and slow, like she was letting go of a mental image she’d carried for years. She had always pictured Jude bringing home a nice girl someday… someone who’d make him happy, who he could settle down with. A future daughter-in-law she could fuss over, teach recipes to… maybe even grandbabies eventually. Now? That vision shifted completely—but not in the way most people would expect. Her expression softened further as she studied you—the man her son loved so openly—and something clicked into place for her…

Mrs. Bellingham’s face softened completely—any lingering surprise melting into quiet acceptance.

“As long as Jude is happy, then I’m happy. You’re welcome here."

Then she smiled at them both… and declared:

"Breakfast is ready.”

Jude’s eyes widened slightly—genuinely surprised—as he watched his mom’s calm reaction and then casually announce breakfast like this was the most normal thing in the world. He’d braced for harsher questions. Maybe even mild disappointment or confusion from her… not instant acceptance.

But there she was: already turning back to the stove, plating food with that same loving focus she always had—now including you as part of their family meal without missing a beat. Jobe, meanwhile, smirked into his orange juice at Jude’s stunned expression. Yeah… Mom liked you. If it has to be a man, she’s glad it was you.

Now that she knew about their relationship, everything made sense: Why Jude relied on her less, How he’d suddenly started planning weekends away—always with you, The way his mood improved whenever his phone buzzed.

She studied Jude carefully over her tea cup… then asked gently: "So… how did this even start?”

Jude set his fork down, the sausage now tasting like cardboard in his mouth as he gathered his thoughts. It had been that one fight—the explosive argument after you announced you were leaving Real Madrid to join Manchester City. The tension between them had been unbearable… until it all snapped.

"We argued" Jude started, voice quieter than usual. "After Y/N said he’s leaving I lost it.” He glanced at you briefly—no anger there anymore, just history hanging in the air between bites of breakfast…

He swallowed hard. "It was during that time I… figured out that I liked him. Everything felt empty without him so I decided to confess. And Y/N said yes." he admitted quietly to you across the table—words he’d never said aloud until now…

Mrs. Bellingham took a sip of her tea, then—ever the master of subtle interrogation—shifted gears entirely with a new question.

"So," she began casually, setting her cup down "when are you two moving in together?"

Just straight to housing plans like it was the most obvious next step in their relationship. Jude nearly choked on his orange juice… while you blinked once, caught off guard by how quickly she’d jumped from emotions to logistics…

Jude cleared his throat, setting his glass down carefully.

"Uh… it’s complicated," he admitted with a slight shrug. "Y/N is in England now—Manchester City—and I’m still here with Real Madrid." The distance wasn’t something they could ignore: time zones, busy schedules, only seeing each other during breaks or quick flights between matches. He glanced at you briefly—both of them knew long-distance wasn't ideal… but they also weren’t ready to end things just because of geography yet…

Mrs. Bellingham’s face brightened immediately—like Christmas had come early after you explained your plan.

Oh. So they were planning to be together long-term after all. She smiled, a real one this time, and took another sip of her tea as you explained your plan: finishing your Manchester City contract before potentially returning to Spain… possibly joining Real Madrid again if the opportunity arose.

Jobe whistled under his breath at that level of commitment…

Mr. Bellingham—who had been quietly observing this whole conversation from the head of the table—finally spoke up, his deep voice calm but laced with genuine curiosity.

"Wait," he said, setting down his fork. "You’re really considering leaving Man City… for him?" He studied you carefully—not skeptically, just trying to understand how serious that commitment was. Giving up a top club like Manchester City wasn’t something athletes did lightly… unless their partner meant everything.

You didn’t even pause. "Yes, sir." You answered immediately—voice firm, eyes steady on Mr. Bellingham’s without a single flicker of doubt. Just absolute certainty that yes, you would give up your current club if it meant being with Jude full-time… career implications be damned. The room went quiet for a beat—even Jobe stopped chewing his toast to watch the exchange…

Mr. Bellingham leaned back slightly, still studying you like a puzzle he was trying to solve—but now with a glint of respect forming in his gaze.

"Alright," he said after another sip of coffee. "So if you move back… where would you two live?" No beating around the bush—he wanted details about how this actually played out logistically…

You answered calmly, keeping your tone respectful but confident. "I’m planning to buy an estate here in Madrid, sir." you said—already having researched properties discreetly for months now.

Mrs. Bellingham suddenly clapped her hands together—excited—like she’d just mentally decorated the entire estate already.

"Oh! A house here in Madrid?" She glanced at Jude, eyes sparkling with approval. "That’s perfect." No more long-distance calls. No more counting hours until they could see each other again. Just… home. Together.

Jobe kicked Jude under the table subtly—grinning like an idiot because his brother had bagged someone serious. A silent “You got a whole man who would buy you a house. Congrats” in his teasing gaze.

Jude shot Jobe a half-hearted glare—stop grinning like that—but he couldn’t deny the truth in it.

You were a full package: loyal, devoted, strong… and now willing to uproot your entire career for him? That wasn’t just luck—that was love. His chest warmed at the thought. Meanwhile, Mrs. Bellingham kept smiling to herself while clearing plates—already imagining Sunday dinners with them both living nearby…

After breakfast, you stood up—insisting on helping Jude’s mother with the dishes.

You rolled up your sleeves and started washing plates at the sink while chatting with Mr. Bellingham the local farms in Norway—the simplicity of it, early mornings milking cows, how hard work was just part of life. Mrs. Bellingham listened eagerly from her chair… then perked up when you mentioned cooking.

"Oh! You cook too?" she asked warmly.

“Yes ma’am. I’m a fast learner” you say with a faint smile.

Mrs. Bellingham’s eyebrows shot up. "Wow" she breathed out—genuinely impressed by how versatile you were. Meanwhile, Jude smirked into his cup… remembering all those times you had surprised him with homemade meals even though you two were very busy training.

You flashed that charming smile—the one—soft and genuine as you turned slightly toward Mrs. Bellingham, still drying your hands on a towel.

"I'll take care of dinner tonight, if you let me." You offered… not in a boastful way, but like someone genuinely wanting to contribute.

Mr. Bellingham gave him an approving nod, any man who offered to help with meals was already winning points…

The living room buzzed with life—Jude’s cousins, both older and younger than him had arrived, along with his nephew, a hyperactive 5-year-old who immediately latched onto Jobe. Laughing kids ran around while the adults chatted in clusters: Jude's aunts gossiping over tea, uncles debating football… and you still comfortably holding court with Mr. Bellingham about agriculture.

Meanwhile, Jude sat on the couch sandwiched between two cousins—one teasing him about finally bringing a boyfriend home after years of being single…

The little nephew plopped himself right onto Jude’s lap like it was his royal throne, tiny legs swinging as he munched on a cookie. Meanwhile, the cousins bombarded Jude with rapid-fire questions—way too excited about his new relationship status:

"Is Y/N really that tall?"

"How did you two get together?"

"Do you guys kiss all the time now? Eww!" one cousin teased dramatically. Jude chuckled at their nosiness… but answered patiently between sips of iced water while balancing the kid in his arms…

Jude watched the chaos around him—the laughter, the sibling bickering, his little nephew now trying to touch his hair—with quiet warmth. Even though he was dating a man… this? A big, loving family with kids running around someday? That future still felt right to him. He’d always imagined having children one day—maybe not through traditional means—adoption or surrogacy, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was love… and building something like this.

His gaze flickered toward you across the room for just a second—imagining it all together…

You moved calmly through the buzzling market, thinking of what to cook while two little voices bombarded him with endless chatter—Jude’s cousins insisted on going to the market to shop for ingredients with the two.

"Can we get those chips?"

"Why are you buying so many onions?"

"Is that for cooking? You’re gonna cook dinner? Cool!"

They bounced around your legs like hyperactive puppies, occasionally grabbing items from the rack randomly—only to be gently redirected by Jude.

You balanced the grocery bags effortlessly in two hands—strong from years of training and carrying equipment—but still made space for Jude. Without a word, you stuck out your pinkie, for Jude’s hand to hold… which they did naturally, fingers linking as they walked through the parking lot. Then—because he couldn’t help it—Jude leaned down and kissed you quickly on the lips right there.

The cousins gagged dramatically:

"EWWWW! GROSS! GET A ROOM UNC!!!" they yelled, waving their tiny hands.

Jude shot his cousins a playful glare, still holding your single free finger.

"One day you will have someone you kiss all the time," Jude said matter-of-factly—like it was an inevitable law of life. "So get used to it now." The kids scrunched their noses in protest but didn’t argue further…you chuckled under your breath at Jude’s parenting skills—effortlessly shutting down their dramatics with logic…

Jude let out a soft, content hum—warm breath brushing against your neck as his hands wandered under the fabric of your shirt, fingertips tracing lazy patterns over toned abs. He was perfectly happy like this: holding you from behind while watching you cook with that focused intensity… the way muscles flexed in your arms as you stirred pots.

Without thinking, Jude murmured against you:

"You look really sexy doing domestic stuff." The compliment slipped out naturally—genuine admiration laced in every word….

Mrs. Bellingham observed them from the kitchen doorway… and her expression softened into something tender and happy. Not just because of their relationship—but how right it felt seeing them together like this…

The dining room filled with the sound of chairs scraping and lively chatter as fifteen people—Jude’s entire extended family—settled around the long table. Aunts, uncles, cousins young and old… sitting at the head with a proud smile. The aroma of your cooking had everyone eager. Mrs. Bellingham took her seat beside Mr. Bellingham while Jobe plopped down next to his giggling cousins—the ones who’d called Jude and you "gross" earlier for kissing now eyeing their plates hungrily….

"When’s the wedding?" one cousin joked, grinning into her wine glass.

"Yeah! You two look like you’ve been married for years already." another added.

An aunt leaned over and squeezed Mrs. Bellingham’s arm:

"Y/N? He cooks like this? Ohhh he’s a keeper."

Jude smirked but didn’t deny any of it—his hand resting casually on your thigh under the table…

Mrs. Bellingham shot the aunt a light huff—half-laughing, half-defensive—as she waved her hand dismissively.

"Don’t pressure the kids!" she said warmly but firmly, shaking her head like calm down! She knew they were just excited… but marriage wasn't even on tonight's agenda, though you cooking this well definitely didn't hurt your case.

When it was time to leave, Jude stood up and gave his mom a quick hug—"I’ll be back tomorrow, just have some business to handle." He said smoothly, not a lie…serious business with…you. Mrs. Bellingham raised an eyebrow but didn’t question him, just kissing his cheek before shooing them off.

You grabbed the car keys without a word—used to Jude’s impulsive decisions—and followed as Jude gently tugged you toward the front door by their linked hands…

You paused with the car door open, turning to Jude—genuine question in your eyes.

"Why? We can stay if you want." You said softly, not assuming anything. Maybe Jude had other plans… maybe he just wanted to get away from family for a bit…

Jude didn’t answer with words—just that sly smirk you knew too well.

"You know exactly why." He said. Jude leaned in and kissed you right there by the car—quick but heated—a silent promise of what was coming once they got to the hotel. Then he pulled back just enough to slide into the passenger seat… leaving you standing there for a second, processing how obvious Jude’s intentions were…

The second you parked the car, Jude was out of the passenger seat—eager. He grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the hotel entrance, practically speed-walking like he couldn’t wait another second. You laughed under your breath at Jude's impatience but matched his energy… both of them brushing past late-night guests in the lobby without breaking stride…

The second the hotel room door clicked shut, Jude crashed into you—lips meeting in a hungry kiss as his hands immediately went to work—fingers fumbling with your belt buckle while their mouths moved together messily, breaths mingling in the small space between them. You let out a quiet sound against Jude’s lips—half-laugh, half-moan—as they backed toward the nearest wall without breaking contact…

Jude crowding you, all urgency and possessive gratitude. The belt clattered to the floor, forgotten. Zippers came next—Jude undoing your pants with quick fingers, his own breathing uneven. Every second of you cooking for his family today… serving them perfectly… had Jude wired. He didn’t care if you were tired. This wasn't about fatigue. It was about reward—about showing appreciation in the most intimate way possible…

Jude’s teeth scraped lightly over your neck—claiming, marking you up without hesitation—as he pushed the fabric of your pants down past your hips. Each nip and kiss was deliberate, a mix of affection and appreciation. A reward for the hours you spent cooking, for being so damn perfect with Jude’s family today… No words beyond that whispered "This is a reward." before Jude sealed their mouths together again—hungry, insistent…

Your faint smirk stayed in place as Jude dropped to his knees without hesitation—determined. The cool air hit your skin briefly before Jude tugged your boxers down, revealing everything beneath. No further teasing buildup, just Jude looking up at him with dark, focused eyes… like this was the only thing he wanted right now.

Jude’s expression was painfully open—eyes full of love, no teasing left in them. Just pure, overwhelming adoration as he gazed up at you from his knees. There was no hiding it. Jude leaned forward and pressed an achingly tender kiss… right where it mattered most.

Your breath hitched—sharp—as Jude dragged a slow, searing lick up your length, the heat of it making your hips twitch instinctively. Then came those soft kisses—teasingly light at first… testing… before growing bolder with each press of Jude’s lips.

Jude’s tongue curled around the sensitive tip, swirling with deliberate precision—before his teeth gently grazed it. A teasing nibble. Not enough to hurt… just enough to send a jolt straight through your nerves, making your fingers around his cheeks shiver. You just put it there.

Jude hummed quietly at the reaction—loving how responsive you were tonight…

Your mutter came out strained—”God, Jude—” as that soft, kitten-lick brush of his tongue sent another wave of pleasure through you. Then Jude took you properly into his mouth… warm, wet and perfect, the suction just right. A broken groan escaped you this time, feeling a burn coil at your stomach as you braced one hand against the wall to stay upright…

Your breath came unevenly—by the sight of Jude on his knees, moving with quiet devotion. Every bob of Jude’s head sent heat coiling low in your stomach… the warmth, the wetness, Jude's throat fluttering around your cock—it was intoxicating.

The sensation hit Jude’s throat—just the tip brushing there—and for a second, his reflexes kicked in with a small gag. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he swallowed around it, forcing himself to relax as his lips stayed sealed tight… determined to keep going despite the brief discomfort. You felt every flutter of Jude’s throat around your length—the effort and devotion in it making your pulse spike…

Your moan slipped out—low and rough—as Jude’s throat flexed around you again, the tight heat overwhelming for a split second before Jude pulled back just enough to reset. Then he dove right back in, rhythm steady now—bobbing his head with focused enthusiasm, taking you deeper each time like he was on a mission. Just pure dedication to making this good.

Your moan spilled out louder this time—”Oh fuck—Jude!” as those strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you firmly in place. Just Jude controlling the pace, making sure you felt every second of this slow burn… even though the pleasure was building too fast, too intense—threatening to tip you over the edge already…

Your breath hitched—gasped—when Jude’s nose brushed against your skin, taking your cock all the way in each bob, that tiny sensory spark tipping you over the edge. A shuddering climax ripped through you, waves of pleasure crashing in seconds as you came right then… still braced against the wall with Jude between your legs.

Jude kept moving—gentle, rhythmic bobs of his head even after you had come—milking every last pulse of pleasure from you. Just tenderness… letting you ride it out fully while Jude kissed and nuzzled along your thighs afterward like a kitten, easing the intensity down gradually.

Jude swallowed without a single grimace—cleaning up completely like it was nothing—before pressing soft, lingering kisses to your muscular thighs. The gestures were soothing… grounding. A way to calm you down after the intensity, his lips brushing over warm skin in quiet affection.

Jude stood slowly, still warm from being on his knees—and without hesitation, he kissed you deeply. It was a slow, sweet kiss… letting you taste yourself on Jude’s tongue—hint of salty, mildly sweet and intimate and undeniably them.

Jude studied your dazed expression—the slightly glazed eyes, the soft exhale still lingering from his lips—and smirked. Adorable. He couldn’t help it. Reaching up, Jude brushed a thumb over your cheekbone before leaning in to kiss you again—softer this time… almost playful after all that intensity…

Jude’s eyes flicked toward the bed—subtle, but loaded—before sliding back to you with a look that was pure mischief. Jude stepped closer, hands already reaching for your waist to guide him backward… That gaze said everything:

the engine idles low and smooth. his car smells like leather and that cologne he wears. woodsy, expensive. it always clings to your clothes hours later, and you can already tell it’s settling into the silk of your dress, into your hair. 

you know you'll have to change the second you get inside. hide the dress in the back of your closet behind the winter coats. take off the bracelet and tuck it into the velvet box at the bottom of your jewelry drawer, under the tangle of cheap necklaces from high school.

the dashboard clock reads 1:47 AM. your dad's alarm goes off at six. four hours and thirteen minutes.

you should go, you know you should. your hand rests on the door handle, cool metal against your palm, but you don't pull it. it feels like cement under your fingers and your throat feels dry.

"you're stalling."

his voice cuts through the quiet, low and amused, and heat crawls up the back of your neck. you don't look at him yet.

"i'm not."

"yeah?" there's a smile in his voice that feels smug and knowing, teasing. "then why are you still here?"

you twist the hem of the silk dress between your fingers—the one he’d handed you through the passenger window two nights ago with nothing but a “wear this friday.” it's way too nice. more expensive than any article of clothing you’d ever owned. the fabric is cool and slippery against your fingertips, the kind of material that catches on rough skin. nothing like the cotton sundresses hanging in your childhood closet.

"i'm going," you say, but you still don't move.

rafe shifts in his seat, the leather creaking softly beneath him. you can feel him looking at you now, that burning attention that makes your skin prickle. he doesn't push. he just waits.

finally, you glance over.

he's leaning back against the driver's seat, one hand draped over the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the fabric perfectly pressed even this late. there's that faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. the dashboard light catches the edge of his jaw, the shadow of stubble there.

"what?" you ask, defensive.

"nothing." his eyes drop to the bracelet on your wrist, then back to your face. the gold catches the light. "just wondering how long you're gonna sit there pretending you wanna leave."

heat crawls up your neck. "i'm not—"

"you are."

"i’m just… savoring it."

"come here." he says it like he already knows you’ll listen. and you do.

you unbuckle your seatbelt, the click loud in the quiet, and shift across the center console, awkward in the cramped space, your knee bumping the gearshift. his hands come up immediately, steadying you, guiding you until you're curled against his chest, your head tucked under his chin. his watch presses cool against your shoulder blade through the thin silk.

his arms close around you. the tension in your shoulders releases all at once.

"there," he murmurs.

you close your eyes and breathe him in. the smell of his cologne has already settled into your dress, but this close, you can still find the warmth of his skin beneath it. his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head keeping you tucked against him.

"better?" he asks.

"yeah."

"good."

you let yourself sink into him. somewhere beneath the cologne, you catch the smell of laundry detergent and clean cotton. your cheek presses into the soft fabric of his shirt, and for a little while, neither of you says anything. outside, the neighborhood is asleep. yellow streetlights, sprinklers spraying, nothing moving.

"you looked really pretty tonight," he says after a moment, quieter now.

your face heats. "you already told me that."

"i know." his hand slides down to your wrist, fingers hooking under the bracelet. the metal is warm now from your skin. "doesn't make it less true."

you press your face into his chest, hiding. the fabric of his shirt is soft, expensive. it probably costs more than most things you own.

he huffs a quiet laugh. "shy now?"

"shut up."

"mm." his fingers trace the gold links, one by one. "you're gonna take this off the second you get inside, aren't you?"

you feel the guilt twist in your stomach and you pull back slightly to look at him. "you know why…."

"it's fine." he's smirking again, but there's something sharper underneath. "hide it in that jewelry box. i get it."

"it's not—" you start, but you don't know how to finish. it's not that i don't want them to see. it's that i can't explain where it came from. can't explain you. you glance up at him, the corner of your mouth tugging into a reluctant smile. “you make it sound like i’m hiding evidence.”

he watches you for a second, amusement flickering across his face. “aren’t you?” 

your eyes drift past his shoulder to the dashboard again. 

2:03.

you try not to think about everything that comes next. shoes off at the door. skip the third step so it doesn’t creak. hold your breath past your parents’ room. don’t let the bedroom door click shut—

he tilts his head, studying you. "look at me."

you do. his eyes are dark in the low light, almost black.

"you worry too much," he says, and his hand moves to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone. "they're asleep. you're here. we're good, alright?"

"i know, but—"

"but nothing." his voice drops lower. "stop thinking about the clock."

you try, you really do. but then you start counting. fifteen minutes. ten. five. and then you’ll have to leave him again. climb out of his truck and disappear back into your parents’ house. watch him drive away alone.

"hey." his thumb presses gently into your chin, pulling your focus back. "where’d you go?"

"nowhere. i'm here."

"you sure?"

you nod and he searches your face for another moment, his gaze is steady.

"good." he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. then your temple. the corner of your mouth. each one so carefully placed and unhurried. you go still.

"rafe—"

"what?" he murmurs against your skin.

"i should—"

"should what?" he pulls back just enough to look at you. "go back inside?"

the words hit harder than they should. you look away, focusing on the stitching of his collar.

"i just…” you swallow. “i wish i could…”

he's quiet for a moment. his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

"i know, baby," he says finally. “not yet."

not yet. like it's inevitable. like it's just a matter of time. like one day you'll walk through his front door and stay. and maybe it is.

"but one day," he says, quieter now. "you're gonna wake up beside me and you won't have to leave."

god, you want that so badly it scares you.

to fall asleep with your head on his chest and wake up there too. to feel him pulling you closer before either of you says good morning. to hide your face in his neck while he laughs quietly and kisses your hair. to stay exactly where you are because there’d be nowhere else you had to be. 

"yeah," you whisper.

his eyes flick back to yours. "yeah?"

"yeah."

his hand tightens slightly in your hair, and then he's kissing you.

it's soft at first. but then you make a small sound and pull him closer, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he groans low in his throat. you taste the whiskey from dinner on his breath, warm and sharp, and it makes your head spin.

his hand slides down your back, pressing you against him, and you arch into it. his other hand finds your thigh, fingers splaying wide through the silk. the cool metal of his watch presses against your ribs as he pulls you closer.

"c'mere, sweetheart." he murmurs against your mouth. "closer."

you still weren't used to hearing him call you sweetheart. the first time he did, you'd looked over your shoulder because you were sure he couldn't have been talking to you.

you shift closer, your knee pressing into the seat beside his hip. all you can focus on is him. the crispness of his shirt beneath your palms, the weight of his hand at your waist, the warmth of his body.

you kiss him harder, more desperately, your hands sliding up to his hair. your fingers rest in it, tugging slightly, and he makes a low sound, his hand tightening to an almost bruising grip on your hip.

"jesus…" he breathes, pulling back just enough to look at you. the blue of his eyes is almost gone, swallowed by his pupils in the dark. "look at you."

you can't say anything. can't think. you just pull him back down, kissing him like you're running out of time. his hand slides higher on your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, and you gasp into his mouth.

"easy, baby," he murmurs, but there's a smile in his voice. "we've got time."

"do we?" you ask breathlessly, and he laughs—a real laugh, quiet and warm.

"yeah. we do."

he kisses you again, slower this time, deeper, his hand cradling the back of your head. you’re still gripping his shirt, still not ready to let go. you can feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, as fast as yours.

his hand settles at the small of your back before you realize you’ve started to pull away.

you don’t.

“stay a little longer,” he says quietly. “just… twenty more minutes. please.” 

"okay," you whisper, nodding softly.

"yeah?"

"yeah."

he says nothing after that. just pulls you back against him, like the conversation never needed another word. you don't say anything either. just hold him tighter. your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and you settle into the space beneath his chin, your dress bunched awkwardly around your legs, his jacket sleeve cool against your bare arm. for the first time all night, you stop thinking about getting home. 

the minutes tick by too fast. the clock on the dashboard glows 2:28, then 2:29. the numbers feel accusatory.

"i really should go," you whisper eventually, even though the words hurt.

his arms tighten around you for just a second before he forces himself to let go.

"i know."

you pull back to look at him. his jaw is tight. his eyes don't leave your face.

he cups your face in both hands and kisses your forehead. soft. lingering. his lips warm against your skin.

"text me when you're inside," he says.

"i will."

"good girl."

you feel heat spread across your cheeks and he smirks, satisfied.

he helps you out of the car, his hand steadying you at the small of your back. the night air is cold against your skin, sharp after the warmth of the car, and you shiver. goosebumps rise on your arms.

he notices immediately.

he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, even though you're only walking a block. it's warm from his body, smells like him, heavy with the weight of expensive fabric. the sleeves hang past your hands.

"rafe, you don't have to—"

"go," he says, nodding toward your house. the porch light is still on. "before i change my mind."

you smile despite yourself. he reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your jaw.

but you don't move.

your feet stay planted on the pavement. his jacket heavy on your shoulders, and you can still feel the ghost of his hands on your waist.

he notices. just like he notices everything else about you. his gaze settles on your hands, twisting the sleeve of his jacket.

"you don't wanna go."

it's not a question.

you look up at him and your throat feels tight. you shake your head, just barely.

a few months ago, you would’ve laughed at yourself. you weren’t usually like this. usually saying goodbye was just that—a goodbye. somehow, with him, it always felt like you were leaving something behind.

"c'mere," he murmurs. he doesn’t wait for you to close the distance this time. one hand cups your chin, pulling it up closer to him, and the other settles at your waist before his mouth finds yours again.

you kiss him back, your hand resting against his chest, and when he pulls away his forehead stays pressed to yours. you’d kiss him forever and ever if you could. 

"you gotta go, baby," he whispers. his voice is rough.

"i know."

but neither of you moves. his hands slide down your arms and he squeezes once.

"i’ll see you tomorrow night, alright?" he says.

you nod. your throat is too tight to speak.

"good girl," he murmurs against your hair.

he kisses your forehead. then your temple. then the corner of your mouth. lingering. gentle.

finally, he steps back, his hands falling away from your arms and the cold air rushes in where he was.

you turn and start walking, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire way. the sidewalk is uneven under your heels. his jacket hangs heavy on your shoulders. you don't look back yet because if you do, you'll turn around.

when you reach your front door, you glance back. he's still there, leaning against his car, arms crossed, waiting. making sure you get inside safe.

you slip inside as quietly as you can. the house is dark and silent. the floorboards don't creak. you hold your breath as you pass your parents' bedroom door.

you pull out your phone: inside. safe.

his response comes immediately: good. sleep well, baby. dream about me.

you smile, hiding his jacket in the back of your closet and the bracelet in your jewelry box. the silk dress gets hung carefully on a padded hanger.

tomorrow you'll see him again and for now, that's enough.

“Baby,” Rafe calls out in hopes that you’re just in the bathroom. He stares at the ajar door leading to the toilet, but it doesn’t move. No one responds to him. A few birds chirp outside his window, and he finally realises that he’s completely alone right now.

He pouts. Rafe Cameron pouts, because there’s no one here to see him act like a child and he’s missing his pretty girlfriend too much. You left him to wake up alone, so that must mean you hate him.

Fuck. He knew it. He knew you hated him. He’s had a feeling for a good amount of time. An angel like you should never settle for a bullshit of a boyfriend like himself, and you realised that yourself at last.

So Rafe trudges down the stairs of Tannyhill in an absolutely foul mood, sending glares toward every corner despite being alone in the Cameron estate. But even then, even as he’s pouting and frowning and waiting to punch anyone who appears in front of him, he’s still hoping that with every edge he turns, you might appear.

You don’t. Maybe that’s because he hasn’t really turned any corners at all, but still. You don’t appear. You just don’t.

Have you really left? Left Rafe alone to wallow in his misery once again? He hasn’t not had you in a while, and truth be told, he’s gotten too used to it. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. He loves you too much, and he needs you too much. Every second of every day.

“Baby …” he whines in frustration, to no one in particular, as he enters the kitchen, expression contorted like he’s holding back tears. He runs a rough hand through his buzzed hair and tries to grip and pull on his strands, but then he remembers that he doesn’t have that hair anymore.

(He should’ve listened to you when you told him not to shave off all his hair. Is that why you left him? Fuck. He hates his past self now. Why didn’t he listen?)

Rafe heads straight for the coffee machine, grumbling under his breath about how you “better be surprising me with head for scaring me like this.”

“The fuck?”

He whips around, almost spraining a muscle. His eyes are as wide as saucers, pupils blown so wide that the blue of his irises is almost nonexistent. Rafe swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as he stares straight at you.

Shit. Did she hear that?

“What’s got your panties in a fuckin’ twist?” you scoff lightheartedly, amusement lacing your features as you laugh softly. You’re holding a mug, filled with your morning coffee already, and Rafe thinks he might cry.

Your lips part again so you can say something, but Rafe doesn’t hear a single word at all. His mind is racing, and his heart is beating too loudly in his chest. He can hear his heartbeat speeding up with every second that passes, and the pace with which he approaches you almost matches the rate his heart is going at.

“No— Nonononono, my coffee—” you sputter, attempting to save your day’s life support by leaving it safe on the nearest counter. A good half of it spills anyway when Rafe throws himself at you, clutching you so tightly you wonder if you’ve done something wrong.

The base of your mug clatters against the marble counter. Rafe buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent like he’s forgotten it over the time he spent without you in bed with him. He lets out a soft sound that’s a little too similar to a dog’s pitiful whimper.

His nose twitches. “Why did you leave?”

You roll your eyes, but hug him back just as firmly. You’re a little pissed that you’ve lost some of your energy in the form of caffeine, but you have no capacity to think about that as Rafe hugs you so close you’re practically one figure now.

“I was literally just going back up,” you deadpan, patting his back gently, trying to soothe him. You swear he’s crying into your shoulder — is he sniffling? Whining? You’re not sure. You do know that he’s sulking, though. He always does.

And then the proof comes: Rafe groans, the sound muffled from the way he presses his face against you. It’s familiar, because you’ve heard it countless times over the course of your relationship. Which is practically every single fucking day.

He doesn’t say anything, much to your exasperation. He never says anything though, so you don’t know why you’re so pressed. You file that thought away and focus on soothing your big baby of a boyfriend.

For a few very long moments, the two of you stay like that. You’re not sure how much time has passed, but it’s enough for you to grow tired on your feet (because you haven’t had your morning coffee yet).

“Can we—?” you begin, but Rafe cuts you off promptly.

“I thought you left,” he says sadly into your neck, and you can hear the slight crack in his voice. The shakiness and fear of his statement possibly being true when he woke up without you by his side. “For real, baby. I thought you actually packed your shit and left.”

Your annoyance fades into a fond sort of concern. Rafe has attachment issues, and you’re the one person he actually loves too much to let go of. He’s made it clear that anyone else can fuck off when he gets tired, but you? The six feet two future CEO of Cameron Development never wants you to be out of his sight. He needs to have you with him every time.

It’s clear to even a blind person that Rafe can’t function properly without you. Ward’s labelled you a liability countless times before, but Rafe doesn’t care — he hasn’t cared in a long time, and neither have you.

Your head turns to press a kiss against his temple. “Sorry, baby,” you murmur, warm breath tickling his skin. He shifts a little and buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck. “I didn’t think you’d wake up yet. You know I’ll never leave you like that.”

Rafe makes an unintelligible noise that you’re about to question, but then he pulls away from your neck and stares down at you with that pout. You fall silent immediately, watching closely as Rafe’s expression changes from sulky to hopeful and relaxed.

“Yeah,” he whispers, like raising his voice even just a little would chase you away. “You won’t. You love me too much.”

You flash a smile at him, cupping his face tenderly, when he suddenly leans down to kiss you. “Rafe—!”

He plants a giddy kiss on your lips, short and sweet, before pecking your entire face over and over again like he can’t get enough of you. Rafe’s relishing the soft laughs you’re letting out, his heart lurching at the realisation that he’s making you laugh like this.

How could you leave him when you look so happy having his kisses all over your face?

“Come back to bed,” he mumbles, focusing his affection on the corner of your mouth. When he locks eyes with you, you can see the plea in the blue. “We haven’t cuddled enough.”

You nod despite yourself, already reaching for your mug (now half-filled because of a certain someone), but Rafe has other plans.

The fucker picks you up bridal style, ignoring the yelp you make.

“You’re not escaping me this time,” he reasons simply, already walking out of the kitchen despite your protests about your abandoned (and spilt) coffee. You eventually quieten down about it when you realise Rafe won’t be turning around.

Now your coffee’s going to get cold, and you’ll have to make another one.

“You don’t need coffee when you’re gonna spend the whole day with me,” Rafe huffs petulantly, as if he can read your thoughts (and at this point, he probably can, with how well he’s able to decipher your expressions).

“You are exactly why I need coffee,” you grumble under your breath, then let out a high-pitched scream when Rafe almost drops you. “Hey! You know it’s true!”

“But you still love me.”

“Debatable.”

“I’m gonna throw you out the window.”

“You won’t do that. You almost cried ‘cause you woke up alone.”

“I— Fuck. Fine. But we’re still cuddling.”

You had finished your skincare routine, put on your favorite bikini, done your makeup, and still, no Theo. 

Confused and feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach, you walked out to the terrace and peered down at the outdoor kitchen. The boys were scattered, the rest of the girls eating, but Theo wasn't even there. In fact, he was sitting by the pool, staring blankly at the water.

Confessional : You “I don’t get it. An hour ago, we were fine. Now he’s sitting across the villa looking miserable, and I haven't even spoken to him yet.

Sighing, you walked down the stairs and took a seat on one of the daybeds, pulling your knees up to your chest. The villa was ambient with the usual morning chatter, but you felt isolated in your own confusion.

"Hey."

You looked up, the shadow of a tall figure blocking the morning sun—Rafe. In his hand, he held a condensation-beaded plastic cup filled with a smoothie. 

"I didn’t see you eat anything," Rafe said, his voice quiet, almost cautious. He scratched the back of his neck, eyes searching your face. "I noticed... uh, I noticed you didn't get any breakfast brought up. I was going to make you a plate but I didn’t want to, like, overstep or anything…"

"Thank you, Rafe," you murmured, reaching out to take the cup with a small smile. Your fingers brushed against his, making your heart do that stupid little flip as you took a sip.

Things were still undeniably awkward between you two, the weight of your date yesterday still hanging in the air. You were definitely more open to him now, the walls you’d built around your heart beginning to melt, but the confusion of being caught between your connection with Rafe and your one with Theo was draining.

Rafe sat down on the edge of the daybed, leaving a respectful amount of space between you, though his eyes never left your face. "You look beautiful today, by the way.” He compliments boyishly, almost like he wasn't sure if he should even say it but decided to anyway. “...But you look worried."

"I don't know," you admitted, staring down at the pink smoothie, swirling it around mindlessly. "Theo's just... he's acting so weird. He said he was making me breakfast, and then he just ghosted. He won't even look at me. I haven’t tried to talk to him about…anything, yet. But…I just feel weird."

Rafe’s jaw tensed at the mention of Theo's name, but he caught himself, taking a slow, controlled breath. He didn't want to push you away.

"C’mere," Rafe murmured, shifting closer, and before you could even process it, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. Startled, you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, melting into him. His chest was just as solid as you remembered, skin smelling like the same expensive cologne. Rafe leaned down, pressing a tender kiss into the top of your head, holding you tight against him for a long while.

"Don't stress about it, alright?" he whispered against your hair, hands gently rubbing your back.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, a soft, grateful smile tugging at your lips as you squeezed his arm. “I’ll try.”

WHILE you were trying to figure out what might’ve caused Theo’s random shift in attitude, the rest of the villa was navigating their own drama. Over by the daybeds, Cleo and Justin were chatting, but something in their body language was off. Ever since the most recent challenge, where Cleo and Pope had shared a heated kiss, a strange wall had been built between her and Justin.

And Justin tried to play it cool, but the insecurity was eating him alive. 

He looked around the villa, his eyes landing on Rima, who was sunbathing by herself near the pool. Yes, Rima was his ex-girlfriend, the girl he shared history with, but despite everything, she was the one person in this villa he felt comfortable confiding in.

Walking over, Justin tapped Rima’s shoulder. "Hey, can I pull you?"

Rima sat up, adjusting her sunglasses, a look of surprise crossing her face. "Uh, yeah, sure…” She stands. “Everything alright?"

"Just need to talk for a second," Justin muttered, leading the way toward the hidden lounge, the door shut behind them. 

OUT on the grass, John B was pacing back and forth, stress pulling at his features. He and Sarah were on the rocks and he was desperately trying to convince himself that Sarah’s challenge kiss with JJ didn't mean anything, but the lingering guilt of his own actions at Casa was making him paranoid.

JJ and Pope were lounging on the beanbags nearby, watching the man lose his mind.

"Bro, chill, you’re gonna burn a hole into the lawn," JJ muttered, adjusting his cap.

John B stopped, turning to the guys. "I can't chill.” He hissed. “It's like she's intentionally dragging it out, giving me the silent treatment, throwing these little comments at me. I mean, I did what we’re supposed to be doing! I explored someone, but I still came back to her. She’s being petty for no reason…"

JJ let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Especially considering you didn’t even tell her the worst of it."

John B's face drained of color, whipping his head around, spotting Sarah walking past just a few feet away. "Dude, shut the fuck up," John B hissed, eyes wide, heart racing.

But Sarah didn't look over, entirely oblivious to the conversation.

Once she was out of sight, John B let out a breath, turning back to JJ. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"I'm just sayin’," JJ defended, raising his hands. "You're sittin’ here complaining about her being petty, but you didn’t even tell her everything. If she finds out from someone else—"

"She’s not gonna find out," John B interrupted, his voice tight. "Telling her everything right now is just going to ruin everything.” He groans. “I came back to her. That's what matters."

Pope sighed, looking at John B with a mix of pity and disapproval. "We get where you're coming from, but... maybe you just shouldn't have done it in the first place if you knew it was gonna eat you alive like this."

"Yeah, I fucking know that, Pope.” John B snapped, flaring his nostrils. “But there isn't shit I can do about it now, is there?"

Confessional : John B “Things happened with Delaney but... it was a mistake. I regretted it the second we left.”

AS the afternoon dragged on, your confusion regarding Theo only morphed into irritation. He hadn't spoken a single word to you all day. Every time you walked into a room, he conveniently found a reason to leave.

You tried to rationalize it. Your first thought, naturally, was that he was upset about your date with Rafe yesterday. It made sense—no guy wanted to watch the girl he was coupled up with get swept away on a date by the guy she was coupled up with before that she clearly still has feelings for. But you quickly brushed that thought away. Theo had been so understanding last night, telling you that he knew you were in an awkward position, that he didn't expect you to just forget your history with Rafe overnight, and that he was willing to give you space to figure it out.

So why the sudden shift?

Seeing him standing by the outdoor gym, wiping his brow with a towel, you decided you were done accepting his cold shoulder. You walked over, your shoulders square, chin up.

"Hey, Theo," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Can I pull you for sec?"

Theo didn't even look at you, keeping his eyes locked on the ground, jaw clenched. "I'm not really in the mood to talk."

You blinked, taken aback by his tone. "...I just want to know why you're literally avoiding me. Is that too much to ask for?"

"No," he shrugging, voice careless as he looked up at you. “But I already said I’m good.” He throws at you, turning his back and walking away.

Your chest tightened, hurt and embarrassment flooding you. You stood frozen for a moment, biting your lip to keep from tearing up, before turning around to walk away.

What you didn't notice was Rafe standing by the kitchen island, eyes locked onto you during the entire interaction. His eyes narrowed into slits as he watched you walk away with your head down, your shoulders slightly slumped, and his blood boiled. He hated seeing you upset, but seeing you get dismissed like you were nothing? He couldn’t stand it.

Confessional : Rafe “I’m looking across the villa and I see her try to talk to Theo. And this guy just completely turns his back on her, walks the fuck away, and leaves her standing there looking like she’s about to cry. I don't give a fuck what's going on between them, you don't treat her like that. And you can call me a hypocrite because I've technically done the same thing,” He winces, dragging the words out. “But I owned up to it and haven’t done it since!” He throws his hands up. “Plus, she’s the only reason this guy is even fucking here and he’s treating her like shit.”

Taking a deep breath, Rafe focused on keeping his temper in check. He knew his reputation in the villa, his reputation overall. He knew that if he approached Theo aggressively, it would only backfire and make things harder for you.

Rafe walked across the grass, his hands casually slipped into the pockets of his swim shorts. As he approached Theo, he took a breath, stopping a few feet away.

"Hey, Theo?" Rafe said, his voice uncharacteristically steady, though the boy's name tasted like venom on his tongue. "Y'got a second?"

Theo looked up, his expression hardening when he saw Rafe standing over him. "What do you want?"

Rafe shook his head slightly, a thought flashing through his mind. I can't believe I’m doing this shit right now. But at the end of the day, Rafe’s primary goal was always going to be protecting your heart, regardless of where he stood in the picture.

"Look, man, I'm not here to start anything," Rafe said, keeping his voice low so the other Islanders wouldn't overhear. "I just noticed... I saw Y/N try to pull you just now, and you brushed her off. I don't know if something happened between you two, but... she's doesn't deserve to be left hanging like that. If she's trying to talk to you, I think you should just give her the respect—"

“It doesn’t have shit to do with you.” Theo cuts in, letting out a harsh scoff, standing up from the beanbag so he was eye-level with Rafe. The height difference was minimal, but the tension between them was anything but. “Don’t come over here trying to play the hero.”

Rafe’s jaw worked, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes, but he kept his hands planted in his pockets. "...I'm not trying to start an issue, man."

But Theo was non-receptive. In fact, Rafe’s calm demeanor seemed to only fuel Theo’s anger as he stepped directly into Rafe’s space, his chest pressed nearly against his.

"You’re not fooling anyone," Theo hissed, his voice trembling with anger. "You've been hovering over her, trying to slide back into her bed, and now you're trying to lecture me on how to treat her?"

The villa went silent around them, eyes on the two men. Across the lawn, the guys stood up, their eyes wide as they prepared to sprint over if things started looking bad.

But surprisingly, Rafe remained quiet. The old Rafe would have cracked a smile and thrown a right hook without so much as a second thought. But right now, he was holding himself back with every ounce of strength he had. Inside his pockets, his hands were curled into white-knuckled fists, jaw clenched so hard the bone looked ready to snap, and his eyes were lowered, dark and dangerous, locked onto Theo’s face. 

For a long, agonizing five seconds, neither of them moved.

Then, Rafe let out a short huff of air. A slow smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, and, without uttering a single word, Rafe turned, pulled his hands from his pockets, and walked away, leaving a fuming Theo standing alone on the grass, glaring at his back.

RAFE searched the villa, spotting you sitting on the steps that led to the upper levels of the villa. He walked over, his expression softening the moment his eyes landed on you.

He sat down on the step beneath you, turning his body so he was looking up at you. "You okay?" he asked softly. "I saw what happened over there, when you tried to talk to him."

You let out a breath, burying your face in your hands for a brief second before looking back at him. Without really thinking, the words spilled out of your mouth. "I'm just... I'm confused. I'm not even sad or anything, I'm just... I don't understand why he's acting like that. He was the one telling me how much he understood me last night, and now he won't even give me the time of day."

Rafe sat there, listening as you poured your heart out. Every single word was like a twist of a knife in his chest, it pained him physically to hear you express emotional investment in someone else, to see you hurt over a guy who wasn't him. But he didn't interrupt. He allowed you to vent.

You suddenly caught yourself, guilt hitting you. "Oh my god, Rafe... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be sitting here crying to you about Theo. That's fucked. That’s not fair to you."

Rafe reached up, his hand gently wrapping around your ankle, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin. "Don't apologize to me. I told you, I don't care what the reason is.” He started, voice soft. “If you're hurting, I want to be the one to help you through it."

You offered him a pitiful smile, leaning forward. "I appreciate that, Rafe."

ACROSS the villa, Pope and Cleo were sitting by the daybeds again, their heads huddled close together as they laughed at something on Pope's phone. They had been chatting significantly more than usual all afternoon, a fact that everyone in the villa had noticed. Whenever anyone asked them about it, though, they both brushed it off, claiming they were "just talking." But the look in their eyes told a completely different story.

Over by the kitchen, JJ was standing by himself, zoned out.

"...Yo, you good?" John B asked, walking up to grab a piece of fruit.

JJ jumped at the sound of the boy’s voice, letting out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Honestly...I’m kina thrown off by Haja. It’s like every thing she does is to make Miles mad. I’m not a fucking pawn in their little game, bro.” JJ’s face twists. “I brought her back because I thought we had an actual connection, but it feels like she’s just using me to fuel whatever weird fire she still has going on with her ex..."

ON the daybeds, your conversation with Rafe was interrupted when Rima walked up to the two of you, her hands trembling slightly, looking more nervous than you had ever seen her.

"Rafe... Y/N, I'm sorry to interrupt," Rima said, her voice shaking slightly. She looked down at Rafe, her eyes wide with a strange anxiety. "Can I please him really quick? It's... it's kind of important."

Rafe frowned, looking between you and Rima, eyes stopping on you for an answer. You looked between them, not feeling any particular way. It was clear they’d grown to be friends. You nodded. "Yeah, of course, go ahead.” 

Rafe shot you a small smile, getting up from his place beside you. “Y’alright?"

"Just... let's go to somewhere else," she muttered, her eyes darting nervously toward the kitchen where Justin was standing, talking to JJ and John B.

You watched them walk away, a sense of uneasiness settling into your bones. But not about them.

About everything.

To you, the villa felt like a pot of water, ready to boil over, and you couldn’t put your finger on why.

Until the sudden, loud ping of a text message echoed through the villa.

You grabbed your phone, everyone watching your eyes go wide as you the message aloud.

"Islanders, tonight will be a red-carpet affair. Please get dressed for... MOVIE NIGHT! #GrabThePopcorn #DoubleFeature"

EVEN as the girls began to get ready in the dressing room, the silence was deadly. You felt that you truly had nothing to worry about. If anything, you were anticipating Movie Night, hoping, damn near praying, that it would show everything that happened at Casa.

And finally tell you if Rafe was telling the truth.

Noticeably, though, Rima, Cleo, Sofia, and Haja were the only ones who looked visibly shaken, their movements stiff and shaky as they pulled out dresses and began doing their makeup.

You and Sarah, however, were trying to break the tension.

"Oh my god," you laughed nervously, blending out your concealer. "I am actually terrified, but at the same time, I cannot wait to see what the hell is going to happen tonight."

Sarah giggled, curling a strand of her blonde hair. "Literally. Hopefully, it’s nothing like the first one. That was a mess..."

Normally, Rima and Cleo would have interjected themselves into the joke or conversation, throwing commentary back and forth. But they both remained silent, staring blankly into their mirrors. Cleo was biting the inside of her cheek, while Rima’s hands were visibly shaking as she applied her mascara.

"...Haja, are you excited?" Sarah asked, glancing your way with a confused look, trying to loop her into the conversation and clear some of the clear awkwardness.

Haja snapped her head around, her expression defensive. "Why are you asking me that?" she bit out snappily, pulling her dress up with a sharp jerk.

Sarah raised her eyebrows, exchanging a shocked look with you in the mirror. Sofia, per usual, remained quiet in the corner, her face unreadable.

You and Sarah both resigned yourselves to silence, sensing that this night probably wouldn’t be ending too well.

MEANWHILE, in the bedroom, the vibe was split.

Rafe was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He wasn't worried at all. In fact, he was actually pretty excited. He knew exactly what he had done at Casa and was desperately hoping that Movie Night would finally project the truth onto the big screen, showing you that you had absolutely no reason not to trust him. 

This night was his golden opportunity to finally get you back.

On the opposite side of the room, JJ and John B were in a similar nervous states. John B was pacing the floor, sweating through his shirt, running his hands through his hair so violently it looked like he was going to pull it out.

"Bro, I'm shaking. I am literally fucking shaking," John B panicked, his voice cracking. "I’m cooked, dude."

JJ wasn't doing much better, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. “Maybe they won’t show it, man.” He throws out, but even he doesn’t believe it.

John B shoots him a sharp look, sighing. 

Pope walked over, clapping John B on the shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. "Just breathe. What's done is done. Just sit there, take it on the chin, and be honest when it plays. If it plays."

Justin was sitting on the bench, unbothered, tying his shoes. He didn't think he had anything to worry about. 

Theo was sitting nearby, looking slightly jittery, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but he wasn't displaying the level of panic that was currently consuming the other boys.

"Alright," Rafe said, turning around with a confident smirk, hands in his pockets as he tossed reading the room out the window. "Let's go to the movies."

TWO long couches faced a massive projector screen. You and the girls sat on the left couch while the boys took their seats on the right.

“Is it bad that I’m getting scared?” Sarah, who was on your right, whispered. Your eyebrows pinched at her words, turning to face her.

“Why?”

She just shrugged, shifting in her seat. “I don’t know…” She huffed. “ I think I just don’t want to see him kissing Delaney.”

You planted a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I get it. But at least he told you,” you comforted. “I’m shaking, hoping Rafe was telling the truth about everything…”

Sarah sends you a soft smile then. “I have faith in him.”

At her words, you return the smile when the projector screen decides to come to life, all heads turning as a graphic appeared, displaying a series of seven numbered digital doors

Just then, the sound of a phone went off, Justin fishing his from his pocket and reading the text aloud.

“Islanders, welcome to Movie Night. To get started, you will flip a coin. Boys versus Girls. The winning side will choose a numbered door to reveal what is behind it. You will do this for every door."

“That’s makes this even more nerve-wrecking,” You throw out as Justin takes it upon himself to stand, picking up the big plastic ‘coin’ labeled ‘Boys’ on one side, ‘Girls’ on the other, flipping it in the air, watching it hit the ground, landing firmly on Boys.

The boys huddled up briefly, before Pope looked to the girls side. "We feel like we should just start from the beginning.” He tells you all as the boys lean back. “One." Pope called out.

The door on the screen slowly creaked open, zooming in as a bold, neon title materialized across the screen—IN LOVING MEMORY OF CASA AMOR.

The title faded before a scene graced the screen—the day all of your exes entered the villa. The day Casa started.

The clip started with you and the girls', showing the moment the Casa Boys walked into the villa before it shows a confessional of Sarah—"When we were together, Thomas had this super short buzzcut... but with the longer hair? Yeah, he looks good."

John B scoffs, eyes narrowing as he glares over at Sarah. Sarah ignores him, keeping her eyes locked on the screen.

The clip continues, showing Kiara looking unamused, Cleo looking indifferent, and Rima smiling broadly, admitting she was genuinely happy to see Justin because they had remained great friends after their breakup.

Then, your face appeared on the screen, hands moving wildly as you spoke in a confessional—"I am pissed…I don’t want Mattheo here. Why would I?...He put me through absolute hell, cheated on me multiple times, and he made me feel like I was absolutely nothing. I spent a long, painful time building myself back up from the mental suffering and the emotional dents that he left on my soul...I hate that he’s here. I really do."

And on the boys' side, a smirk broke across Rafe’s face. He let out a low chuckle, thrilled to see how deeply you despised your ex, but more importantly, he absolutely loved when you got feisty—well, as long as that fire wasn't aimed at him.

The screen instantly transitioned to the boys' side over at Casa Amor, showing the exact moment Sofia and the other ex-girlfriends walked through the villa gates. The camera locked onto Rafe’s face, looking ready to punch a hole into anything. The screen then cut to his confessional from that day—"Sofia?" Rafe seethed to the camera. "Out of every. single. girl on the planet, you bring her here?...I’m pissed. I know exactly why she’s here, and it’s for all the wrong reasons—reasons I, quite frankly, don’t give a single fuck about." He threw his hands up in the air, reeling back in his seat. "And I know she is going to try her absolute hardest to throw a fucking wrench into everything…I didn’t even want to come here. I was happy where I was. But I already know this is gonna stir some shit up regardless..."

Cleo let out a sudden laugh from the middle of the couch, turning her head to look at you. “Y’all are literally the same person,” she said, shaking her head.

Sofia let out a loud scoff, crossing her arms tightly, mumbling under her breath. You looked over at Rafe, your chest swelling. He really hadn't wanted her there.

The clip continued, showing JJ acting relatively unbothered about Delaney’s arrival. Then, John B appeared on screen, playing it cool as he talked about Kaitlyn’s arrival: "There’s no real hard feelings between us…but I know for a fact she would never date me again…and I’m focused on Sarah anyway.”

In the audience, Sarah leaned over, whispering skeptically to Cleo, "But it doesn't mean he would never date her though," John B winced, watching the interaction.

The clip briefly showed Miles looking not-too-happy about Haja’s arrival, and Pope looking mildly weirded out by Winnie’s presence.

The screen then shifted to the day of the Casa Amor recoupling, showing the girls' side first.

It replayed Sarah choosing Thomas, her post-recoupling confessional flashing—"I just think we left the past in the past, and I’m okay with that."

Then came Cleo choosing Justin, showing Cleo smiling bigger than she had in weeks—"I’m excited. I think he’s sexy, obviously. And I think we made some great conversation yesterday, so I’m happy."

On the boy’s couch, Pope’s posture slouched, a deeply sad, dejected expression crossing his face. He hadn't realized Cleo actually liked Justin that much, truly, and shamefully, assuming she only brought him back as a safe option, not fully trusting him.

The clip switches to Kiara choosing Mattheo with a clearly dissatisfied expression, while Mattheo looked visibly disappointed right before Rima was shown smiling and genuinely happy with Brandon.

Then, your recoupling moment appeared, the screen showing Theo standing next to you, a smirk plastered across his face—"I’ve had my eye on her since we walked in, so I’m hoping I can leave a lasting impression, maybe get her to take me home with her.”

The camera cut to you ducking your head, smiling as Ariana called your name. You looked up, opening your mouth to speak—"It could be worse, but yeah, I’m excited to get to know Theodore. He’s been nothing but sweet to me."

In the audience, Rafe aggressively rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and groaning audibly at the sight of you smiling at Theo, damn near pouting as one of the guys nudged his shoulder.

The clip then transitioned to the boys' recoupling—John B seemed happy to be coupled up with Delaney, making an incredibly stupid joke to the camera about how she slightly resembled Sarah, a comment that was received with absolute silence and glares from the girls'. JJ was shown happy to be with Haja, stating he felt confident exploring a new connection since his chemistry with Kiara had faded. Pope was casual with Kaitlyn, Miles and Sofia seemed pleased, noting they found each other attractive, and Rafe was almost overly casual about his coupling with Winnie, indifferently stating she "seemed nice."

Next, it showed the Rodeo challenge, starting with the scene of Sarah roping in Brandon, planting a kiss on his lips, before giggling—"Sorry, Rima, he’s just too hot!"

John B let out a scoff in the audience, muttering under his breath. Sarah’s eyes darted towards her partner, dramatically rolling her eyes before muttering, “why the hell is he acting like he didn’t literally kiss someone?”

You all just shrugged, eyes glued to the screen as it now showed Kiara kissing Thomas, her confessional playing right after—"Kissing him was way better than I thought," 

At this, JJ threw a hand out, face twisting as he leaned over to John B, whispering. "The girls were ready to fuckin’ crucify me, but look at her."

The clip continued—showing Cleo kissing Justin, then you kissing Theo.

Rafe chewed the inside of his cheek, looking down at his shoes, unable to watch your lips on anyone else’s.

But the clip wasn't done. It showed Mattheo marching up to you during his turn, wrapping the rope around your wrists before winding them behind his own neck, forcing you into a kiss just before you effortlessly slipped right out of his poorly tied knot, holding your hands up, letting the loose rope fall to the ground. "You were never very good at that," your quipped sassily, pushing him off you and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

That clip made Rafe feel a bit better, pride bubbling in his chest as he let out a loud whistle. You rolled your eyes at him, but a small smile tugged at your lips.

The video quickly switched to the boys' turns at the Casa Amor Rodeo—showing John B kissing Delaney with an extremely questionable amount of passion. 

Sarah’s face went stone-cold, eyes narrowing as the clip continued rolling, showing JJ kissing Haja, Miles kissing Sofia, and Pope kissing Kaitlyn. Then came Rafe’s turn—he was shown kissing Haja quickly, keeping brief. However, during the Casa girls' turns, the clip revealed that both Winnie and Sofia had thrown themselves at Rafe, kissing him while he stood there looking entirely uncomfortable, his arms hovering at his sides.

You narrowed your eyes, muttering, "Damn, everyone wanted a piece of him, huh?"

Sarah leaned over, laughing at your jealousy, reassuring you, "Babe, he looks like a cardboard cutout standing there. Take a breath." You rolled your eyes, sighing.

The clips behind the door ended with the scenes revealing that you and Brandon had won the villa date, while John B and Delaney had won the Casa date.

And as the screen faded to black, the tension hadn't broken yet. The coin was tossed again, landing on Girls.

You all huddled for a moment, before deciding on a random door.

"Let's do Door Three," Sarah called out, a brief second of pause before the door swung open and the screen zoomed into the abyss before the title came across the screen—THE BOY WHO CRIED 'JUST ONCE'.

The clip opened with a scene of Sarah during Casa, pouting as she whined to the girls—"Guyssss, Thomas?! He looks so good, you guys, I hate it! But John B is literally with his ex right now. I’m losing my mind. Ugh." Then it cut to Sarah talking in the confessional booth—"Yeah, Thomas is a great guy. Really, I was the problem in our past relationship…kind of regret it now, though. Ugh, he’s hot!"

In the audience, John B let out a loud sigh, turning to the guys, but before he could even open his mouth to complain once more, the screen cut to Sarah again—"...It just came out that John B was in communication with his ex right before he came on the show?...I don’t know if there’s, like, some unresolved shit there."

Right after, almost as if to answer her worries, the movie shows a clip of John B and Kaitlyn having a private conversation on the Casa daybeds. John B was leaning in close, asking weird, loaded questions. "Do you... ever miss what we had? Like, do you miss our relationship? Would you ever be willing to try again?" Kaitlyn let out a loud laugh, waving her hand. "God, no. That ship has sailed." John B was shown letting out an incredibly nervous, high-pitched laugh, scratching his neck as he tried to play it off. "Yeah, yeah, totally. Me neither."

John B’s heart dropped into his hands, stiffening in his seat.

Sarah whipped her head around to the girls on the couch, eyes flashing with angry confusion. "...Am I crazy, or was he trying to shoot his shot at his ex-girlfriend on day one?"

"He definitely was," Cleo agreed, her jaw dropped. 

You nodded. "One hundred percent."

Sarah then whipped around, folding herself to glare at John B across the lawn. “Are you serious?” She criticizes, but John B makes no attempt to defend himself, scratching his forehead as the clips kept going.

It cut to John B and Delaney on their date after the Rodeo challenge. They were clearly flirting, all touchy-feely, and John B was clearly leading her on, holding her hand across the table and whispering compliments.

The video then transitioned back to the main villa, showing Sarah firmly telling the girls—"I don’t feel drawn to any of these Casa guys. None of them are doing it for me."

"Really? Not even a little bit?" your voice echoed from the screen.

"No, my head is completely with John B. I’m just playing the waiting game.” She shrugs, the screen showing another very brief clip of her saying, “I have trust in John B."

And almost as if to mock her, the video instantly cut back to Casa Amor, showing John B with Delaney on the daybeds, calling her sweet nicknames while she sat giggling like a schoolgirl before it flipped to the moment you and the girls received the video, Sarah’s face crumbling as she watched, whispering, "That’s fucking crazy." But then it showed Sarah the next day, sitting on the beanbags, sheepishly admitting to the girls—"I’m still holding out a bit of hope. I mean, I don’t know what happened during their full conversation, and it looked like they only shared kisses during challenges... I don’t want to completely throw away what we have over something I’m not even sure is anything bad."

It was sad to see Sarah be so loyal to her partner while he was clearly pillow talking to another girl just across the island. But Sarah, as well as the rest of the girls, figured that there was nothing to truly be upset with John be about, considering, as far as you all knew, he'd been completely transparent with Sarah about what he done over at Casa.

So, it was safe to say that the next clip had all of your jaws on the fucking floor.

The screen displayed the bathroom at Casa and, through the frosted glass of the shower, steaming pillowing above, you could see the distinct silhouettes of John B and Delaney. Gasps ran over the group. They were showering together. Their bodies pressed flush against each other, the sound of splashing water mixing with low, muffled giggles.

Sarah’s breath hitched. A tear instantly spilled over her eyelashes, her face turning an angry, volatile shade of crimson.

Immediately, outraged voices erupted from the left couch as the girls crowded around Sarah, rubbing her back. 

“That’s crazy,” Cleo spat, glaring daggers across the lawn. “And he’s sitting over there scoffing and making faces when he showered with another girl?!” 

You leaned in close, your jaw dropping. “Sarah, did he tell you about that?” 

Sarah shook her head frantically, fresh tears spilling over. “No! He didn't fucking tell me!”

The clip continued, showing the Temperatures Rising challenge, replaying Sarah doing the ‘suck’ task on Thomas, going crazy to get his heart rate up. But then it cut to John B's turn with Delaney where he was shown burying his face in Delaney's cleavage, aggressively sucking on the exposed skin, before sliding down to his knees and pressing his mouth tightly against the inside of her thighs, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

The video then showed with their most recent conversation that acted as the biggest blow to it all as, in the clip, John B and Sarah sat talking, him telling her,  "But it wasn’t anything serious—" John B's voice echoing as Sarah seethes. 

"I knew it."

"She was just... there, and—"

"Did you kiss her?" Sarah’s voice cut him off sharply from the screen. "Outside of a challenge. Did you?"

John B was shown hesitating for a fraction of a second, his eyes darting away guiltily before locking back onto hers. "...Yeah," he admitted on screen. "But only once. I swear, Sarah—"

You and the girls remained huddled around Sarah, who was breaking down, her shoulders shaking as she sat there sobbing. “He is such a liar,” Rima mumbled under her breath, her own face twisted in pure disgust. 

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “I’m...actually so disappointed in him.” 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the lawn, a low murmur broke out among the guys. The boys were leaning in close, whispering, and JJ and Pope nudged John B hard, “You should have jus' fuckin’ told her, man.”

The screen flashes to John B talking to the guys in the bathroom, running a hand through his hair. "Is it bad that I regret telling Sarah the truth? I feel like now she’s just trying to punish me for doing what we came here to do, which was exploring options." 

Hearing his words, Sarah snapped. She whipped her head around, shouting across the lawn directly at John B, “You didn't even tell me the fucking truth, so what the hell are you talking about?!” Before she could jump up though, you and Cleo grabbed her arms, pulling her back and murmuring soft words to calm her down. 

On the boys' couch, the guys quickly muttered to John B, telling him not to say a word back, warning him that it was in his best interest to just be quiet and ’let this shit play out’.

The bathroom scene continued playing. "I don’t understand why it matters so much anyway, because at the end of the day, I still came back to her. I chose her."

“That’s shallow as hell, and that is so not the point,” Cleo whispered harshly, her jaw clenched as she watched the screen.

The final blow came when the screen showed footage from the third night of Casa, revealing that John B didn't sleep outside. He was shown tucked under the covers, Delaney wrapped in his arms. They were cuddling, sharing multiple kisses in the pitch-black of the room. The audio even picked up John B pillow-talking her, his voice a low whisper—"I’m not gonna lie, there's a really good chance I might bring you back."

And then the screen faded to black.

And Sarah didn’t waste a second before jumping up from the couch, breaking free of the multiple arms that were comforting her, ears of rage and heartbreak streaming down her face. She turned on John B, her voice a piercing shriek, cracking.

"You’re a pathetic fucking liar, John B!" she screamed. "You slept in the bed with her?! You showered with her?! You were kissing her under the covers and telling her you were gonna bring her back, and you sat in front of me yesterday and swore you only kissed her once?!"

John B stood up, his hands shaking as he reached out. "It didn't matter! I didn't bring her back! I chose you—"

"And that’s supposed to make it better?!" Sarah yelled before she turned her fury onto the rest of the boys' couch, glare landing on JJ, Pope, and Rafe. "And all of you! You all sat there and watched him do it! Nobody said a fucking word to me! You let me sit here looking like a complete idiot!"

Almost immediately, the guys she singled out got offended. JJ, Pope, and Rafe all leaned forward, defending themselves. 

“Whoa, wait a minute, it wasn't our place!” JJ yelled back. 

Pope threw his hands up, shouting, “You think we didn't want to tell you?! Like, how do you think we felt? We didn't know what to do!” 

Rafe threw his hands up as well, muttering something that didn’t travel far enough to hear. 

Of course, the girls weren't about to let them slide, immediately arguing back in Sarah’s defense. “If it was any one of you, we would have told you!” you yelled across the gap, Cleo and Rima shouting in agreement. 

The guys scoffed and shook their heads, disagreeing, with JJ muttering that he didn't think that was true at all. 

The two couches went back and forth for a minute, voices overlapping, before everyone realized there was absolutely no point in the entire villa arguing when the main issue was strictly between Sarah and John B. Everyone gradually piped down, settling back into a tense silence to let Sarah and John B continue to hash things out.

She turned back to John B, wiping her eyes fiercely. "He keeps saying none of it matters because he didn't bring her back... well, you fucking should have because me and you are done!"

“Sarah—”

“Fucking done.” She spat one last time before plopping down into her seat, huffing and wiping at her eyes. “Someone flip the fucking coin so we can get this shit over with…” Kaitlyn stood from her seat, flipping the plastic coin, watching as it landed on Boys, them picking Door Number Four.

The door opened and the title faded in—KISS AND (DON’T) TELL. The clip opened on Rima talking, the rest of you gathered around—"And honestly, if not for the fact that we’re currently in a couple, I think Pope would stay well-behaved just because he wants to prove himself to Cleo.”

Cleo sat up straighter then, assuming this was her turn under the spotlight.

The screen then cut to Pope over at Casa, sitting on the daybeds with John B, looking incredibly troubled. "Man, I don’t know if it’s crazy to say but…I miss Cleo. Like, none of these Casa girls are doing anything for me. I’m just constantly worrying about her making a connection back at the villa. I’m just wondering if she’s keeping our talk in the back of her mind like I am."

The video transitioned back to the villa, showing Cleo expressing how she felt to Justin—"Pope is still just kind of there in the back of my mind. I’m trying to get him out, I really am, but we had this big conversation right before he left for Casa where he told me his feelings were with me. But... I just don’t know if he’ll actually stand on it.”

Next, it swipes to their post-Casa conversation on the daybeds, where Cleo and Justin were discussing where they stood.

"But... what about Pope?" Justin asked.

"I’m not gonna deny that a piece of me has always been with Pope because of our initial connection during the first couple weeks. I do... still have feelings there. But... I’m just not sure if I want to go forward with exploring them anymore after everything that happened…I just want to focus on us.”

Then it shows the glam room after the Boss Bitch challenge. You were leaning against the vanity, looking at Cleo. "What about you and Pope? I didn’t expect you to kiss him, to be honest."

"I only kissed him to see if the spark was still there... and unfortunately, it is." She groaned loudly. "And now I feel like I’ve just made things ten times harder for myself with Justin..."

In the audience, Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, face hardening as he muttered, playing with his hands. "What the fuck, bro..."

Immediately after, the screen showed Pope talking to the guys in the bathroom later that afternoon—"I was so worried after the recoupling that bringing Kaitlyn back was the wrong choice and that I’d ruined all my chances with Cleo. But honestly? The kiss today during the challenge... it gave me hope, man. I still felt that same spark we had when we first met. Just the simple fact that she chose to kiss me gives me hope that I can fix what I broke with her.”

After, the screen shows Pope pulling Cleo for a chat, them walking into Say Less, the cameras tracking them sitting incredibly close on the couch. The conversation faded out, replaced by footage of Justin back in the yard, pacing around, looking around as he muttered, "How long does it take to talk?..."

It then clips to Cleo returning as Justin walked up to her. "Y'all were gone for a minute," Justin noted, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her face. "...Your lip gloss is smudged.” He blinks. “Did you guys kiss?"

On screen, Cleo looked him dead in the eye and shook her head, answering unnaturally quick. "No. We just talked."

Unfortunately, the next scene cut back to the footage inside Say Less—showing Pope leaning in, his hands cupping Cleo’s face, before the two of them end up in a full-blown, clearly deeply passionate make-out session. And to make matters worse, between heavy breaths, they could clearly be heard whispering against each other’s lips, "I missed you."

Everyone gasped in unison as Pope resigned to burying his face into a pillow while Cleo dropped her head into her hands, looking upset and deeply ashamed of herself.

Justin broke the silence, turning to her, hurt. "You lied to my face.” He criticizes, voice trembling. “I gave you the opportunity to just be honest with me, and you looked me in the eye and lied."

Cleo pulled her hands away, her eyes tearing up. "Justin, I'm so sorry. I was just... I was so scared of losing you, and I panicked—"

"Yeah, well, you clearly didn't want to keep me either," Justin shot back, his voice bitter as he whipped his head toward Pope. "And you? That shit is crazy, bro—"

Pope didn't back down. Actually, he sat up, showing absolutely zero remorse. "I'm not going to apologize to you for going after what I want.” He says casually, though he is clearly slightly embarrassed. “I had a connection with Cleo long before you were even thought of. I broke it, and I've been trying to fix it."

"Okay, and I understand that, but it's about respect, man!" Justin shouted across the gap.

"Look, no offense, but my connection with Cleo means a hell of a lot more to me than your feelings." Pope snapped, eyes low. 

But before the argument could spiral any further, Rafe intervened, standing up to flip the coin, watching it land on Girls. After a brief huddle, you all picked Door Number Five.

The transitions followed as usual, the title flashing in bold letters—EX-FACTOR.

The video started immediately after the previous series of clips, showing the exact moment Cleo returned from her chat with Pope and lied to Justin. It showed Justin nodding before excusing himself and walking away, face twisted. Realizing Cleo had lied, Justin’s expression turned vindictive as he walked straight over to Rima. "Hey, can I pull you? I just need somebody to talk to.” He asks, and Rima nods as he leads her to the Speakeasy. The clip showed them entering the lounge and, at first, the conversation was perfectly normal. Justin was venting about Cleo, and Rima was listening. 

But then, the body language shifted. Justin slid closer to Rima on the couch, voice dropping. "I just... I miss when things were easy, Rima," Justin murmured, looking down at her lips. "Like what we had... it was real..." And you all watch with wide eyes as Justin leans in, pressing his lips against hers. And your jaws drop when Rima doesn't pull away. In fact, she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the exchange. It feels like the clip goes on for hours, watching them grope and grab at each other, tongues sliding against one another.

Cleo let out a loud, gasp, her jaw dropping as she whipped her head around to look at Rima, but Rima couldn't bring herself to look at Cleo, staring at her own lap.

The clip cuts to the end of their make-out, showing Rima cursing herself before sprinting out to find Rafe where he was sitting with you. That’s why she looked like that. The scene showed Rafe and Rima sitting on the pool chairs.

"Rafe, I fucked up so bad," Rima panicked on screen, burying her face in her hands. "And I'm sorry, I know you're getting things back on track with Y/N and I pulled you away from her but I literally cannot pull any of the girls, like they won't understand—”

“Rima, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—

“I made out with Justin, just now, in the Speakeasy.” She cuts in with a harsh whisper, chewing on her nails. “And I feel so terrible because of Cleo, but... I think I might still be in love with him."

And then it was over.

Cleo turned on Justin, face stone. "Are you fucking kidding me?! You sat there and lectured me for about respect and honesty, and you literally walked straight into the Speakeasy and made out with your ex-girlfriend?!"

Justin, trying to justify his actions, raised his voice against hers. "Cleo, I only kissed Rima because of what you did! I knew you were lying to me!"

“Excuse me—” Rima reels back, but her voice gets lost to the wind.

"You didn't even know for sure!" Cleo screamed back, her chest heaving. "If I hadn't kissed him, if I had been telling the truth, how the hell would you feel right now? You assumed I did something, and you immediately ran to your ex in spite!" She gestured wildly between them. "And for the record, we are not closed off! And I have been completely transparent with you about the fact that I still have feelings for Pope!"

"But in our last conversation, you told me you wanted to focus on us!" Justin countered aggressively, swinging a hand between himself and Cleo to emphasize his words.

"I did want to focus on us!" Cleo argued. "But it didn't mean I was throwing Pope completely out the window!" She suddenly stopped, her eyes landing on Rima, who was sitting on the edge of the couch. Cleo’s voice dropped into a deeply hurt whisper. "And you... Rima, why didn't you say anything to me? You've been one of my closest friends in here. You were the one pushing me to explore things with Justin, telling me what a great guy he was... and the first chance you get, you're having a full-blown make-out session with him behind my back?"

Rima looked up, her eyes filled with tears, her voice defensive despite her apology. "Cleo, I am sorry. I really am.” She offers. “...But I don't think you have that much of a right to be upset right now. You kissed Pope right before that happened—"

"I've been honest about my feelings for Pope, you guys have been acting like you're completely over each other and you're ‘just friends’." Cleo counters, her voice echoing.

Pope immediately jumped into the argument, pointing a hand out at Justin. “Cleo has been upfront about us the entire time.”

“Yeah, up until tonight! What the hell are you talkin’ about, man?” Justin argued back.

“Me and Cleo never tried to play the ‘just friends’ card!”

“Neither did we!” Rima shook her head, tears welling as she tried to apologize again, though she stood firm on her stance. “I am sorry, Cleo, but it’s the truth!” 

Justin then interrupted, his face flushed and voice cracking because he was hurt, projecting a massive amount of that anger onto Pope rather than Cleo. “You need to stay out of this, Pope! You’re the one who disrespected what we had going on!” 

Before the clash between the two guys could spin out of control, the other guys rushed in, telling them all to chill out and just move on to the next video.

The screen flashes, forcing everyone to look back up as the next title showed—THE KING, THE QUEEN, AND THE PAWN.

The clip opened on JJ and Pope's private conversation the afternoon before Casa Amor. JJ was rubbing the back of his neck, looking troubled. "...I’m starting to feel kinda weird about Kie."

"Really? I thought you guys were, like, finally happy to test things out."

"That’s the thing, before we actually got coupled up, it felt like me and Kie had an insane amount of tension, bro…But now that we’re actually in a couple... it’s like all of our chemistry just faded into thin air…The spark is completely gone, and it just feels forced now.”

Your own face twisted as several girls muttered to each other, "If he had enough time to tell Pope how he felt about Kiara, why didn't he have the decency to tell Kiara?"

JJ overheard, turning to defend himself. "I had literally just realized it in that clip. What the hell are you guys talking about?"

"That’s not an excuse, JJ," you piped up from the couch. "You had more than enough time to speak to her. You were just scared. I’m sure she would’ve much rather you had been honest and her be hurt by the entire situation than you not telling her and her getting, I don't know, dumped from the fucking island because of it."

JJ tensed, shutting his mouth, unable to argue with you.

You scoffed, sitting back as the screen cut to a clip of Kiara talking to the camera in a confessional—"Honestly speaking, I felt like my best conversation was definitely with Thomas…I really do think I have a little bit of a crush on him. But... I don’t know if it’s actually worth risking my connection with JJ. Like, JJ and I have a vibe, I think anyway, but Thomas just feels... more into me…JJ is all charm and flirty, which is exciting, but it’s also terrifying because you never know if he’s going to burn you. Thomas looks at me like he actually wants to know my soul or something..."

JJ instantly interrupted , throwing his hands up, snapping before pointing at the screen. "See?! Why are all of you jumping on me when it's clear as day Kiara was already making another connection anyway?"

Before any of you girls could answer, the next clip rolled, showing Kiara on screen saying—"I want to have faith in JJ, I really do. But his track record is terrifying.” The screen then jump-cuts to Casa, showing JJ sweet-talking Haja on the daybeds before pulling her into a deep kiss.

All at once, the girls turned to JJ pointing at the screen. "That's why."

The clip continued, showing Kiara on screen again—"I just... I don’t know. JJ and I have a connection. But I’m just so terrified that the moment my back is turned, he’s going to revert right back to his old ways.” And, like a slap in the face, the video showed the Casa Amor bedroom in night-vision. JJ and Haja were in bed, the audio picking up unmistakable soft moans, heavy breathing, and the violent movement of the duvet covers. JJ’s voice could clearly be heard whispering raspy compliments as the sheet shifted, subtitles at the bottom of the screen only making matters worse— “you feel so good”, “don’t wake anyone up”, “fuck, i’m close”—making it abundantly clear to the entire villa what had happened.

The girls' jaws dropped in shock, a collective gasp echoing through the lawn.

"...Oh my god," you muttered, eyes wide. The boys looked down, they had been in the room, they knew, so they weren't surprised, but seeing the raw footage on the giant screen made it much more real.

The clip quickly switched to showing Kiara's reaction to receiving the video from Casa, her eyes tearing up as she watched JJ make out with Haja, followed by a brief clip of Kiara sharing a sad, comforting kiss with Thomas.

The screen showed JJ talking to the guys recently—"And I don’t know if Haja is actually here for me, man. I think she’s super sexy and confident, and I love that about her. But I’m starting to think she’s just using me as some kind of piece in her game to make Miles mad..."

Haja immediately got offended by the comment, snapping her head toward JJ. “How the fuck can you even say that when a clip of us literally fucking was just shown?!” she yelled, her eyes flashing.

The screen then cut to Haja sitting with you all out on the beanbags as she spoke directly to you—"And when I say that man is manipulative? I mean, you experienced it first hand from what I saw. When Miles said that stuff to you? About Rafe? He used to do shit like that all the time to me. It’s the same move he pulled to get me away from the boyfriend I had before him.”

What followed was a heart-stopping montage that completely exposed Haja and Miles, revealing that from the literal first day of Casa Amor, they had been secretly sneaking around behind everyone's backs. It showed them pulling each other into hidden corners of the Casa villa, making out until they ran themselves breathless. Their confessionals played back-to-back, with both of them admitting how desperately they missed each other.

It cut to a clip showing Haja looking furious during the Raunchy Races challenge, when Sofia and Miles completed a task together, revealing that her bitterness was what ignited their toxic cycle all over again. Even though they were actively pretending to be rivals in front of the other Islanders, the footage exposed the reality. It showed them kissing passionately in dark corners, it showed them secretly showering together and exiting the bathroom and just nearly getting caught by everyone, and it showed multiple clips of Miles passing Haja in the kitchen, casually giving her butt a firm squeeze when nobody was looking before the screen faded out.

And almost everyone was furious. Not only were the girls still furious at JJ for doing Kiara dirty, but it was now abundantly clear that he had done it for absolutely no reason, seeing as Haja had seemingly used him as a golden ticket into the villa just to continue whatever weird thrill-ship she had with Miles.

"Are you serious, JJ?" Sarah yelled. "Look where your dick got you! You couldn't wait to get your dick wet, and you got played!"

John B jumped in to defend JJ, throwing his hands out. “It’s not his fault he made another connection! He didn't do anything wrong!” 

Sarah immediately whipped her head around, her eyes practically shooting fire as she pointed at him. “John B, you shut up!” she screamed, still furious with him. “Of course you would sit over there and defend him!”

But in the midst of the fire, some of you turned your fury onto Haja. Despite your own grudges against JJ at the moment, you still cared about him and you knew he wouldn't have brought Haja back if he didn't actually like her. So, to know that she was playing in his face the entire time? It kind of enraged you a little bit. "Haja, what the hell?" you hissed. "I mean, you make it seem like you hate Miles’ guts but you're letting him grab your ass in the kitchen and y'all are showering together? What happened to all that stuff you said about him being manipulative?”

Haja scoffed, snarling. "I don't have to explain shit to any of you,” She defends herself. “This is Love Island. I’m allowed to explore whoever I want!"

"Oh please, you knew you were wrong!" Sarah yelled. "Otherwise, why the hell were you sneaking around?"

"We weren't sneaking around on anyone!" Haja screamed back, her voice pitchy. "Me and JJ aren't closed off! And Miles and Sofia don't even actually like each other, so it doesn't even matter!"

You snapped, pointing a finger at Haja. "If that was how you actually felt, Haja, then you should have had the fucking decency to be upfront about it! JJ had actual feelings for you! If you wanted to keep messing with your ex, you should have stayed outside the villa!"

Haja scoffed, her eyes flashing. "Why do you even care so much?! Weren't all of you just screaming at him five minutes ago for getting your friend dumped?"

"Yeah, we were!" Rima yelled right back, matching her volume entirely. "But the only reason Kiara got dumped was because JJ brought you back here thinking he had a real connection, and you’re using him! We’re not justifying anything JJ did, but you and Miles are far from being in the right either!"

Haja went wild, gesturing wildly. "Okay, then if you're gonna get on my case, you need to get on Miles', too!"

"We already knew Miles was a piece of shit, we're not concerned about him!" You threw out from the couch.

Miles leaned forward on the couch, tossing his hands up lazily as a smirk spread across his face. “Whoa, back up. I don’t know why you’re opening your mouth to call me a piece of shit when the only reason me and you have an issue is because I told you the truth but your guard dog didn’t like it,” he said smoothly, throwing immediate shade your way. 

Rafe went rigid, his eyes flaring as he surged forward in his seat. “Don’t talk to her like that,”

"Exactly! Mind your own goddamn business and shut up, Y/N!" Haja hissed directly at you.

Instantly, JJ stood up for you, yelling at Haja, and Rafe’s face twisted in anger as he continued defending you to Miles. "Don't fuckin’ tell her to shut up!" 

The lawn devolved into a zoo of screaming, chest-puffing, and volatile insults. 

“She can speak whenever she wants!” JJ barked across the lawn at Haja, his veins popping from his neck. 

Cleo and Sarah were screaming over them, pointing fingers, while Miles and Rafe were still going at it. The shouting match escalated into complete bedlam, with both couches on their feet, yelling over one another until the volume was deafening. 

The hostility hung in the air, a mess of overlapping threats and defensive cries that only began to settle when a blinding flash from the screen pulled everyone's attention backward.

The screen flashed, forcing the next door open, the title showing up in massive letters—MISDIAGNOSED MAIN CHARACTER SYNDROME.

The clip opened on Sofia’s very first confessional from the day she entered Casa Amor, smirking arrogantly— "I really, really miss what Rafe and I had… and I know for a fact that deep down, he still cares about me. I know he thinks he’s building this new connection with... uh, I completely forgot her name.But I know him. He just needs a little... reminder of what we used to be.”

You let out a dramatic roll of your eyes, turning to Cleo and Rima. "She’s so childish, my god. Was that supposed to be a diss?" You taunt, voice rising loud enough to be heard as Sofia remains silent, rolling her eyes.

"That bitch knew your name," Cleo scoffed loudly. "She’s obsessed with you, there’s no way she didn't."

The clip goes on, revealing a conversation between Miles and Sofia on the last day of Casa—"Why don't I just bring you back to the villa? It'll completely torture Haja, considering she thinks she's doing something by running around with JJ, and honestly, me and Rafe aren't friends by any means, so any chance to fuck with him is a chance I'll take. I say fuck it. Let's stir some shit up."

From his seat, Rafe whipped his head toward Miles, his blue eyes filled with irritation. "You’re actually a bitch," Rafe spat, his voice dropping into a harsh growl. Miles just smirked, looking away.

The clip continued, showing a montage of Miles and Sofia sitting around the villa over the past two days, actively making fun of you—whispering and pointing while you were minding your business, plotting ways to intentionally piss off you, Rafe, and Haja, saying mean, spiteful things before laughing hysterically together like the pair of villains they clearly are.

The girls moved closer to you on the couch, Cleo and Sarah reaching over to rub your shoulders and squeeze your arm comfortingly. “You alright?" She asked softly, trying to catch your gaze, but you had this thousnad-yard-stare going on. "...Don’t even think about it, they’re just bored and miserable,” Sarah murmured softly, her eyes full of concern. 

Cleo glared at the screen, adding, “They’re so weird for that.” 

You just weakly shrugged their hands off, looking away as you muttered, “I’m fine, seriously.” But they could all clearly see the truth—your foot was hammering against the grass, your jaw tight, irritated and angry to the point of tears.

The rest of the Islanders looked visibly disgusted. The girls were glaring at Sofia, and JJ muttered, "That’s fucked. Y/N was going through so much at the time, and they’re just fuckin’ laughin’ at her..." 

Rafe’s hands were shaking with rage, jaw clenched so tight it looked ready to break as he watched them mock you. He had so much he wanted to say, so many people he wanted to punch, but he was simmering so deeply in his own rage that he got caught up in his own violent thoughts, jaw ticking as his leg bounced relentlessly.

The video then replayed the scene on the daybeds, Sofia and Miles talking casually when, Rafe walked past them from one direction and Haja walked past from the other, quickly glancing at them both before jumping on each other, Miles wrapping his arm tightly around her waist as Sofia leaned in, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips, their immediate whispering right after they pulled apart…

"Did he see?" Sofia whispered eagerly.

"Yeah, he saw," Miles laughed maliciously, lying through his teeth just to feed his own ego and hers. "Haja looked pissed too."

The screen then transitioned to the dressing room from last night, showing the confrontation between you and Sofia, her venomous tone echoing.

“...I know we don’t talk much, but I just want to get something out there before you start making a fool of yourself. I think that going after Rafe is a complete waste of your time. I don’t know what kind of little romantic fairytale he’s trying to sell you, or what lies he’s whispering in your ear... but that’s all it is. Lies…The only reason you and Rafe even have a ‘relationship’ right now is because of this show. But outside of this? Trust me, you wouldn’t last a single second with the real Rafe. You don’t know him like I do…”

The screen showed you completely unmoved by her words. You let a slow, unamused smile pull at the corners of your lips as you stood up from your vanity chair, glaring over at her. “Are you done?”

“...Wh—”

“I hear what you’re saying about being ’first’, but from where I’m standing? Being first clearly doesn’t mean anything. If it did, you wouldn’t be here. You can call me temporary all you want, you can keep glaring at me every chance you get, you can keep trying to embarrass me, but at least I’m not desperate, going through all of this trouble for a man who won’t even look at me twice. You’re the only one fighting his feelings for me, thinking it’ll change his feelings for you, I’m assuming. It won’t.”

Rafe instantly sat up straight, his eyes wide as he looked over at you. "Y/N, when did she say that to you?"

Before you could answer, Sofia jumped in snappily, "Why do you even care, Rafe?"

“I’m not talkin’ to you.” Rafe dismissed, a snarl on his lips as he dismissed the girl.

You also bypassed Sofia, looking directly at Rafe. "Last night, right after we got back from our date." Rafe’s eyes flared with pure anger as he glared at Sofia, shaking his head. He’d wait until this was over to really speak his mind.

The clip continued, showing Sofia pulling Kaitlyn and Haja for a private chat earlier today, pouring her heart out about how she didn't understand why Rafe was so different with you, crying about how she spent her entire relationship cleaning up his messes— “I just don't get it, like I was there for everything, and he put me through hell. I was the one who stood by him whenever he crashed his fucking car and took him home. I was the one who bailed him out of jail every fucking time. I was the one who drove him home when he was drunk off his ass and probably fucking high, but apparently none of that fucking matters to him, all because of this random bitch.”

But apparently the girls weren't fond of the first time Sofia pulling them and attempting to have a conversation being when she needs someone to vent to, and Kaitlyn is the first to put her foot down — “I'm sorry, I just find it very odd that you don't make any attempt to speak to us…but all of a sudden when you need a shoulder to cry on, you pull us aside like we're friends. To be honest, I don't give a shit about anything you just said. I've been here for two days and those girls have made me feel more welcome than you have in the week that I've known you. I think Y/N is a good person and you're just bitter that your ex has…what? Evolved as a person? I'm sorry, but that's crazy to me…”

Then came the final morning clip. 

It showed Sofia pulling Theo for as he entered the kitchen, pulling out pans and tools—"I just thought you should know, I overheard Y/N in the dressing room last night after her date with Rafe. She was telling the girls that, at the end of the day, she was using you as a safe option, and she would choose Rafe over you in a heartbeat without a second thought. And she basically said that, like, during her date with Rafe, she realized how much she regrets bringing you back here and she said that she should have never chosen you. I don't know what you know about the whole situation that's going on, but I'm just coming to you as a person. I don't think anyone deserves to be used."

Then, that was the end of it.

And you had officially reached your absolute breaking point. A scarily calm air settled over you as you, turned your gaze onto Sofia.

“...I have tried my best to just ignore you and your bullshit. At first, I kept telling myself that I had absolutely no reason to have an issue with you, that it was Rafe’s fault and not yours. But it's clear that your entire existence revolves around me, so here, I'm giving you the attention you want so bad, because it seems, at this point, that you might want my attention more than you want Rafe’s.” You throw out, clasping your hands together, tone biting. “So, please, tell me what the fuck your purpose was in telling Theo that load of bullshit?"

Sofia tried to play innocent, shrugging her shoulders. "I felt like he deserved to know the truth, considering you're coupled up with him and lying—"

You put a hand up. “I’m gonna stop you right there.” You pointed a finger at your chest. “I'm coupled up with Theo. Exactly. Not you." you hissed, your composure snapping. "You went out of your way to tell him something, and you made it seem ten times worse than what it actually was! Half of that shit you told him, I never even fucking said!" You leaned closer, your eyes burning. "And then to make matters worse, you're doing all of this over a guy who doesn't even like you anymore—"

“That's what he told you!” Sofia snapped. "He still loves me! I know him a million times better than you do! You think after three weeks of knowing this man that you know who he really is?! You think he's actually going to pick a girl like you over me?!"

“A girl like me?” Your neck reeled back. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Sofia let out a sharp, nasty laugh, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared directly at you. “Please, let’s be real here. A girl who literally used to flaunt half-naked for money isn't exactly the type a guy like Rafe brings home long-term. Let’s not forget where you came from...” 

At her words, your vision tunneled with rage. “Bitch—” you hissed, throwing your weight forward as you tried to fly off the couch to tear into her, but Sarah, Cleo, and Rima threw their arms around your waist and shoulders, tugging you back down into your seat before you could make a mistake.

Rafe groaned from his spot on the couch, his voice was terrifying, echoing. "I already did!" Rafe screamed at Sofia, his face flushed. "I already did pick her over you! I keep picking her over you every single fucking day, and it doesn't seem to get through your head!" He seethes, two fingers jamming into his temple

Rafe went off on her, reading her for filth. "I wish you had never come here. I wish we had never met, and I really wish we had never fucking dated! I have spent the last year of my life trying to build myself up, and I just want to leave that version of myself and our relationship in the past, but you refuse to let it go!"

He threw his hands down. "I was a terrible person when we were together, Sofia! We had fifty times more bad days than we ever had good ones! So why the fuck do you crave being with me so bad?! I don't want that relationship anymore, and I don't want you!"

Sofia was sobbing violently now, shaking her head in denial. "You don't mean that—"

"I do," Rafe huffed, his voice cold. "You can't stand the fact that I was the one who ended it, Sofia. That’s all this is—"

"What does she have that I don't?!" Sofia shrieked, pointing a shaking finger directly at you as tears streamed down her face. 

Rafe sighed. “You don’t want me to answer that—”

"Why are you so willing to be a good person for her, Rafe?! Why not for me?!"

Rafe stopped, looking back at you for a fraction of a second, his expression softening before he turned back to Sofia. "...I just know that she’s different. She makes me want to be better."

"You're so obsessed with this whole ‘trying to be a better person’, Rafe, but you never will be!" Sofia spat venomously through her tears. "I know who you really are! She doesn't! That's love, not whatever fake shit you have with her!"

In the midst of their argument, completely done arguing with Sofia’s delusion, you turned your anger directly onto Theo, who was still sitting silently on the couch.

"And you," you hissed, walking up to him. "Is this why you've been acting like an asshole to me all day? Because of something a girl who literally hates my guts said to you this morning?"

Theo shrugged casually, his expression cold and indifferent. "I mean, clearly it was true, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"It’s not true.” You deadpan. “That is not what I said!"

"So you didn't say you would choose Rafe at the end of the day?" Theo cut you off sharply, standing up.

"I did!" you argued fiercely. "But all of that extra stuff she added, I never said it! All they asked me was ‘Theo or Rafe’, and I just said ‘Rafe’. And I fully planned on pulling you today to be open and honest with you about exactly where my head was at, just like I have been the entire time, but when I asked you to talk, you literally looked me in the eye and said no—"

"I don't care about the extra stuff, Y/N!" Theo shouted back, his voice rising in aggression as he stepped up. "I care about the fact that you sat there and said you'd choose him over me!"

“You knew there was a chance of that happening!”

Rafe, noticing how close Theo was to you and the lack of intervention, turned away from Sofia mid argument and shoved his way between you and Theo, his face twisted. "Why are you in her face?"

"Tell your boyfriend to fuck off," Theo snapped aggressively, ducking around Rafe’s head to glare at you.

“Oh, fuck you,” you mused, throwing a hand out. “Maybe you need to argue with a man.”

“Step back,” Rafe growled, his chest pressing against Theo's as the two of them locked eyes. 

Theo sneered, stepping up even closer. “You think you scare me? How blind are you to not see that she played both of us, and you're over here acting like a lapdog!” 

You threw your hands up between them. “Theo, you knew from day one where my head was, so don't act dumb now!” 

In the background, Sofia was sobbing, shaking her fists and screaming, “Fuck you, Rafe! Screw you!” but nobody was paying her a single ounce of attention. 

Before the tension between Rafe and Theo could erupt, all of the boys rushed forward, shoving themselves between the two guys, while the rest of the Islanders crowded around to break it all up. 

JJ clapped Rafe on the shoulder, pulling him back. “Chill out, man, c’mon. We still have other clips to get to. We’ll have more than enough time to talk through all this shit after it's done.” 

Muttering curses under their breaths, everyone reluctantly backed away, sitting back down to watch the final door open.

The final title illuminated the screen—LOVE SQUARED.

The clip opened on the morning the guys were whisked away to Casa Amor, showing you fast asleep in the bed. Rafe was shown quietly leaning over you, gently pressing a lingering, tender kiss to your cheek before whispering softly into your ear—"I’ll miss you, angel. Sleep well."

In your seat, your heart completely melted, the residual anger dying out. You hadn't known he did that. Your eyes locked with Rafe’s across the lawn as he shot you a soft, boyish grin, ducking his head as his cheeks grew red.

The screen cut to a conversation between you and Theo on day one of Casa.

“How’s the relationship with...” Theo asked.

“Rafe,” you nodded on screen.

“Yes, Rafe,”.

“Good,” you smiled widely. “Better. I think we were getting back to normal, to something solid, before...”

“Solid can crack. And I like a challenge, piccola.”

In the audience, Rafe proudly smirked at your loyalty, but he threw a dangerous side-eye directly at Theo for his comment.

Then, it cuts to Casa, showing Winnie coming onto Rafe strong by the daybeds, asking about his connection with you. Rafe was sitting back as he spoke —"I miss Y/N already. I don’t mind talking to you, on some like cool shit, but I really don't want you talking about her or our connection."

Your cheeks flushed warm, flattered and proud of him for keeping his composure and defending your connection so calmly. Sarah leaned over, nudging your shoulder. "At least your man was over there holding it down and defending you, babe."

The screen moves to you in the bedroom before bed, flipping over onto your back as you clutched Rafe’s pillow tightly to your chest, whining to the girls—“My shaylaaaa... I can still smell his cologne on the sheets. Seriously though... do you think he’s sleeping alone tonight? Like... what do you think is happening at Casa?”

“Girl, please. They couldn’t tear you two apart if they tried. You and Rafe are completely inseparable. He’s probably losing his mind right now wishing he was here with you.”

“Seriously, Rafe looks at you like you’re the only woman left on earth. Have some faith, babe.”

Rafe’s face lit up with a genuinely adorable smile, his heart swelling at the sight of you missing him so much.

Next, it showed Rafe at Casa Amor before bed, a pillow tucked under his arm as he prepared to walk out to the daybeds. He was talking to the guys, looking miserable—"I can’t wait for this shit to be over. I keep getting phantom whiffs of her perfume…and I miss the smell of her body wash when we cuddle." JJ was shown clapping him on the back. "You don’t got shit to worry about, bro. If anyone is sailing smooth, it’s you two."

The video then shows a montage of Rafe’s absolute despair at Casa—the guys catching him staring blankly out at the water for hours, catching him tracing his fingers over the last hickey you had given him before he left, stressing out over what might be happening back at the villa.

Then, the video switched to Theo, showing him talking to Brandon and Thomas in the Casa kitchen—"Yeah, I had interest in Sarah and Y/N at first. But since Sarah shot me down, I’m just focusing all my energy on Y/N." The wording made it seem that he had settled for you. And you didn’t like that at all.

The girls on the couch exchanged fast, suspicious looks, whispering loudly. "That’s crazy," Sarah muttered. 

You nodded, your jaw tensed. "Yeah."

The next clip to be replayed was you telling Theo,“I want to be completely honest with you. I am not entirely open. Rafe and I aren’t closed off, but... he means a lot to me.”

Then came the aftermath of the Rodeo challenge where Theo was shown talking to the Casa guys, admitting he wasn't worried about you and Brandon going on a date, before making a shady, offhand comment—"Honestly, she’s still completely hung up on Rafe, so I’m used to it. A date is nothing compared to hearing her talk about a guy that isn’t even in this villa all day. Worst case scenario, there are other options."

The girls gasped as you bounced your foot, tongue prodding the inside of your cheek as you scoffed, shooting a sharp look Theo’s way.

Just then, the screen showed your date with Brandon—”I won’t lie and say I’m feeling one hundred percent relaxed right now... But I want to try with Rafe. He’s the only one I want, and I’m just praying he’s holding it down over there.” Brandon then asked about Theo, and you shrugged lazily. “I mean, I can’t deny that he’s a pretty good-looking guy, but he seems kind of closed off and quiet. I’ve already spent weeks breaking down the walls of one closed-off guy, so even if I was open, I’m pretty damn sure I don’t want to do that all over again. I don’t plan to.”

The video showed a fast montage of you repeatedly telling the girls you were completely loyal to Rafe, that you were willing to withstand the mosquitoes on the daybeds just to respect him, and that you were praying he was doing the same.

Then came Sofia’s Casa clip, scoffing to the girls as she patted her makeup into her skin—"I don’t care about Y/N. She's just Rafe's little temporary plaything." 

“Bitch.” You snarl, clenching your fists, furious.

The screen then cuts to Theo asking you for a kiss, and you turning him down gently—“Theo... you are an incredible guy, truly you are, but... I just can’t. My head is still so wrapped up in Rafe, and I need to respect that connection. I’m sorry.”

Then it finally played your breakdown after receiving the video from Casa, and here you were silently hoping you wouldn’t have to relive that—the movie showing you crying and storming around the villa, tears streaming down your face as you shouted violently at Mattheo when he tried to slide in and comfort you, and then—“AND FUCK RAFE, TOO!” It replayed Rafe hearing your scream all the way across the island at Casa, bolting upright, face paling then flushing red. “Was that her?”

Unfortunately, awkwardly, the clip showed Theo comforting you in the Say Less lounge right after, followed by your tearful confessional—“I’m just so tired of being the girl that guys get away with hurting... Like they tell me all this bullshit, smile in my face, just to show me their true colors when I’ve already... fallen in...”

Even worse, it showed that, after that specific incident, was the first time you shared a bed with Theo.

In the audience, Theo let out a bitter, low mumble in Justin’s direction. "See? She didn’t want anything to do with me until she got that video, and then she was all over me. But I’m supposed to believe she didn’t bring me back in spite…”

"Can you like stop?" you shot at him, voice loud enough. "I didn’t bring you back out of spite, I did like you, and at the time, I was convinced that the person I was with was disrespecting me. So yeah, I got more open after the video confirmed it." You scoffed, shaking your head and leaning back.

“He’s just pissed, don’t pay attention to him.” Kaitlyn comforted from where she was sat as the screen projected the thing you’d been dreading yet also anticipating— the full context of the kiss between Rafe and Sofia.

It started showing the part of the conversation you’d already seen, Rafe aggressively chewing Sofia out for continuously using challenges as opportunities to kiss him, despite his repeated rejection, before it continued, causing you to sit up straighter, unaware of Rafe’s hopeful gaze glued to the side of your face.

“You know you miss me,” Sofia whispered on screen.

Rafe let out an exhausted sigh. “I do miss you, Sofia…I miss who I thought you were.” He seethed. “But I know for a fact now that that person isn't real, and she never was. I don’t miss you. And I don’t want you—”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re mad,” Sofia cut him off, throwing his words to the wind. “I still love you, Rafe—”

“I don’t love you.” Rafe gritted out. “I don’t know if I ever even did. You need to let what we had go, Sofia. I can’t make myself any more clear—” She cut off his refusal by launching herself at him for a kiss, Rafe instantly shoving her back and away from him with the deepest scowl you’d ever seen, before glaring at her for three long seconds and walking straight away to find the guys, gnawing the inside of his cheek.

Watching the full clip play out, realization hit you, overtaking you with guilt. He hadn't done a single thing. He had rejected her. 

“Oh my god... I'm the worst person ever,” you mumbled to yourself, voice trembling as your eyes locked with Rafe's across the lawn. Rafe could tell by the look on your face that you were about to break down. He softly caught your gaze, gently mouthing across the gap, “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m not mad.” 

The girls crowded around you, trying to rub your back and offer comfort, but it wasn't working at all. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you started crying anyway, completely hiding your face in your hands. 

Seeing you like that, Rafe walked right over to the girls' couch, pulling you tightly into his chest as the girls made space for him, hiding your face against his shirt from everyone else as the two of you sat closely together on the far end of the couch. While he held you, your girls—Rima, Cleo, and Sarah—turned their fury onto Sofia, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “Do you not feel embarrassed watching that back?’ Sarah barked across the line of people. 

Sofia didn’t seem to care at all, tossing her head back and standing on exactly what she had said. “Why would I?” She scoffed. 

Cleo pointed at where Rafe was holding you. “Even as he’s literally sitting right here comforting someone who isn’t you?” She throws out judgmentally. “You look delusional.” 

The clip then showed Rima asking you the next day—“Does what you saw make you a bit more open to exploring Theo?” and you responding, “Hell yeah, it makes me more open.”

Theo, on the boy’s couch, continued mumbling under his breath, slouched in his seat now. 

The clip then transitioned to the Temperatures Rising challenge, with you during your turn with Theo, snapping his underwear waistband with your teeth. Then it showed Rafe’s turn at Casa, the man getting so visibly upset and distracted watching the girl’s meter skyrocket that he checked out of the game, causing the boys to lose the round.

It showed you and Theo kissing on the daybeds, for the first time outside a challenge, then kissing in bed that night. And though Rafe’s jaw tensed at the sight, his hold on you never faltered. Then it cut to you crying on the beanbags with Sarah, expressing your confusion about Rafe and fear of dragging Theo along if you were just gonna run back to him.

It was just clip after clip, the next one showing Rafe back at Casa. He was sleeping outside on the daybeds, entirely alone, holding his phone, scrolling through pictures of you and him from the first two weeks, and he groaned, clicking the phone off, and throwing the blanket over his head, the sound of him crying silently under the covers traveling lightly through the speakers.

Your heart broke into a million pieces as you looked up at Rafe, your eyes flooding with tears.

The next clip was much more recent, showing Theo pressing you after your date with Rafe—“I’m worried that if he’s telling the truth, you’ll choose him over me.”

Then it was Rafe crying to the guys in the bathroom—“Seeing her kiss Theo up close? Fuck that, I could’ve hurled. I still haven't eaten... I don't give a fuck about Sofia, man. I miss Y/N so fucking much, shit's driving me completely out of my mind.” JJ was shown then telling him, "For our own sanity, we gotta get you two back together."

It showed your hushed argument and near-kiss in the kitchen, Sofia interrupting, and Rafe immediately chewing Sofia out right after, telling her he hadn't thought about her in months and to stop trying to ruin his life. “Well, now that she’s finally gone,” Sofia started on screen, shifting her weight from side to side with a smug, arrogant grin plastered on her lips. “We can actually finish what we started.” Rafe’s expression completely shifted into something dark as he turned on her. He stepped directly into her personal space, his tone blunt and harsh, delivering what seemed to be his final warning. “Sofia, I need you to hear me when I say this. I haven't thought about you in months, and I need you to get it through your thick fucking skull that you mean nothing to me now. Stay the fuck away from me. From us.” He didn't even wait for a response before walking away, leaving her standing there, shocked.

It showed you and Rima talking, you mumbling, “Theo is exactly the kind of guy a girl should want…”, and Rima telling you”But he’s not the guy you want.”

Then came the beach date from yesterday, showing Rafe kneeling in front of you, crying into your lap, and you telling him,“...What I have with Theo... it is nowhere near touching what you and I had. He’s great, and he’s sweet, but... he’s not you. And I feel like such a bitch for putting him in the middle of all this.”

Finally, the clips concluded with the dressing room conversation from last night.

“If it turns out Rafe is telling the truth—who are you choosing?” Rima asked on screen. “Rafe or Theo? Don’t think, just answer—”

“Rafe.” you answered instantly. “...I would choose Rafe.”

And then the screen went black.

You were the first to speak, of course, turning in Rafe’s arm to glare at Theo, voice still a bit shaky from crying as you threw a hand out towards the now blank screen. "I just want to point out that, as you can see, I didn't say any of that extra shit this bitch told you.”

“Excuse me—” Sofia tried to cut in, but you kept talking.

“All I said was that at the end of the day, I would choose Rafe."

"And you didn't have the fucking decency to tell me that." Theo criticized, his face red. 

“How could I? She got to you first—”

"We share a bed, so don’t try that.” Theo stopped you. “You didn't think to mention to me that you'd already chosen him?!"

"I didn't think that was the best fucking time to bring it up!” Your own voice raised. “And what about you?! What did you mean by saying "she’s still completely hung up on Rafe, so I’m used to it. A date is nothing compared to hearing her talk about a guy that isn’t even in this villa all day. Worst case scenario, there are other options"?” You mocked, tilting your head. “You basically admitted I was just an option after Sarah shut you down! Like you settled for me!"

"You want to talk about settling?!" Theo roared, leaning forward where he was sitting, eyes wide. "You've been stringing me along for days, telling all your friends that you'd choose Rafe over me, when I came to you and told you how terrified I was of you doing exactly that!"

"I understand that, and I’m sorry!" you argued, your voice cracking as tears of frustration spilled over. "I tried my best to comfort you in that moment, but you were far from oblivious, Theo! You knew that I was stuck between you and him! You're trying to play the victim right now, as if we haven't had multiple conversations where I have been entirely transparent with you about the fact that I was confused!" You gestured back toward Rafe. "During our date, I told Rafe the exact same thing!"

"Yeah, but you knew who you liked more, Y/N! That’s the fucking issue!" Theo screamed over, standing up now. Rafe didn’t like that.

Rafe gently let his arms unwind from around you, standing up, his frame blocking Theo from you. "What are you standing up for?"

"Rafe—" you sighed, tugging on his arm but he barely moved, him and Theo glaring each other down. 

“What’re you, her fucking bodyguard?” Theo hissed. “What the fuck’re you gonna do?”

And Rafe just smirked, huffing as he laughed under his breath while the girls jumped off the couch, crowding around in front of you as well, screaming at Theo. 

"She was honest the whole time!" Sarah yelled at Theo through her own tears, still upset. "And it’s so unfair for you to act like you had absolutely no idea she had stronger feelings for Rafe!"

You stood then, too many people in your way. "And she’s right because you literally fucking said that!” You reprimand, hands moving wildly. "Or are you gonna act like you don't remember saying that, too?!”

“So what?!”

Your face twisted at his words, neck reeling back. “What the hell do you mean ‘so what’—”

“You still fucking lied!”

The original boys—JJ, Pope, and John B—then shot up as well, backing Rafe up as he opened his mouth to speak before they beat him to it, trying to also calm everyone down. "Okay, look, we’ve watched these two for weeks, man," JJ pointed at Theo. "We knew that, for her to switch up, something crazy bad had to have happened. So, don't sit here and paint her as a villain—"

Suddenly, Sofia inserted herself into the circle, scoffing loudly as she also stood up from her place. "Oh, please!” She threw her arms up. “Why are you all treating her like some kind of princess or little baby?! She’s a grown woman! She needs to be able to make her own decisions, speak for herself, and settle for one guy instead of crying about everything!"

You whipped your head around, your eyes flashing with uncontainable anger now. "Oh my god, shut the fuck up!” You took a step in her direction. “You shouldn’t even be talking, bitch!"

That comment struck a nerve as she and you started going at it violently, screaming insults back and forth, getting closer by the second, each insult seeming to come with two steps forward, while the girls and the guys were getting in each other's faces around you, trying to keep Rafe and Theo apart as they also seemed to start gaining on each other.

Movie Night had spiraled out of control, much worse than the first. People were pushing against each other, voices cracking, chests puffing, and for the first time in this experience with you all, the production crew suddenly rushed out from the villa walls, stepping between everyone, specifically grabbing Rafe and Theo by the shoulders, pulling you and Sofia apart, and forcing everyone into separate corners of the yard.

YOU stormed away, angry tears streaming violently down your face. You hated drama, you hated feeling like shit, and you absolutely loathed how Theo had just tried to paint you as some kind of malicious, deceptive villain in front of the entire villa when you had spent the last week losing sleep, trying to be as honest and transparent as possible.

You swiftly walked away from the garden, heading toward the terrace as Sarah, Cleo, and Rima immediately followed you, crowding around you.

"Babe, it's okay," Sarah soothed, wiping her own eyes. "Screw him. Screw all of them.” 

Rima rubbed a hand up and down your back as the four of you walked up the stairs. “He’s just pissed because he thought you were gonna pick him at the end, and now it's not going his way."

"Exactly," Cleo added. "He was just filling your head up with lies, pretending to be this understanding guy so you would feel safe with him and choose him, and the minute you weren’t going to, his real colors started to show." She scoffs as you all sit down on the terrace furniture.

But you don’t think they understood that you weren't sad-crying. You were furious. "He really tried to blame me... and then that bitch Sofia... I can't..." Your words got tangled together as you tried to express yourself but there was just too much flooding your mind at once.

The girls let you breathe, giving you a minute to yourself while Sarah eventually broke down after holding it in the entire time—tears streaming down her cheeks as she ranted about how hurt she was to not only see that John B had lied, but to actually witness the things he’d done.

Suddenly, footsteps rang out as a figure came up the steps, Rafe walking up, looked focused as his blue eyes locked onto your puffy ones as you dried the wetness under them. He walked straight past the girls, reaching down and gently grabbing your wrist, pulling you up as he eyed Sarah’s sobbing frame.

"...Sarah, I’m sorry." Rafe said as he tucked you under his arm. The girl sniffed, turning her angry, tearful gaze to Rafe.

“Why did none of you tell me?” She hissed, hiccuping halfway through the sentence. 

Rafe shakes his head then, a hand rubbing circles into your lower back as you tried to stop your own tears. “I didn’t know.” He throws one hand up, eyes wide. “I swear I didn’t.” 

“And Pope and JJ? I'm supposed to believe neither of them knew, either?”

“...I can’t speak for them.” Rafe says, swallowing as he lowers his hand. “But for what it’s worth, I think he really does regret it.”

Sarah scoffed then, the tears only coming faster. “Didn’t seem that way.” 

All Rafe can do is nod, resigning to not trying to defend the boy’s actions. “I’m gonna steal her for a minute,” He says cautiously as Rima and Cleo comfort Sarah, avoiding each other’s eyes awkwardly. “Feel better.” He throws out carefully, not very used to comforting anyone.

Rafe, with a tight-lipped smile, pulled you away from them, leading you down the steps and toward Say Less. Halfway there, he reached up with his thumbs, tenderly wiping the tears away from your cheeks. "Don't cry. Not over that shit," he whispered. "None of them matter. Let it go."

When you reached the secluded lounge, Rafe sat down with you, wrapping his long arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, just holding you.

You looked up at him, your angry tears morphing into ones of profound sadness. You stared into his beautiful blue eyes, a massive wave of guilt washing over you. He hadn't lied once.

"Rafe..." your voice cracked, a sob escaping your throat. "I am so, so sorry. I feel like such a piece of shit."

Rafe frowned, leaning closer. "Why are you apologizing to me?"

"Because you were telling the truth," you pouted, covering your face. "About everything. And I just feel like if the roles had been reversed... if a video had come out of me, you probably would have had so much more faith in me than I had in you.” Your voice shook. “I didn't even give you a chance to explain. I shut you out for days, slept in bed with someone else, and it took you going through literally half the villa and crying on your knees just to get me to listen to you. I never wanted that..."

Rafe’s expression softened as he reached out, gently pulling your hands away from your face and intertwining his fingers with yours. "Hey, look at me. Look at me," You looked up, sniffing.

"I'm not gonna lie and say seeing those clips didn’t hurt me... ‘cause yeah, it hurt. It hurt like hell," Rafe admitted softly, his voice cracking. "But at the end of the day, I meant what I told you—if Theo was the one who was genuinely gonna make you happy, then that was all I ever wanted.” He admits. “Of course, I want to be with you. I want to be the guy who makes you smile every day. But your happiness is the most important thing to me, and I’m willing to make that happen no matter what…even if it means me not being in the picture."

You shook your head, more tears falling. "But it should’ve never come to that,” your face twists in sadness. “You didn't do anything wrong."

Rafe smiled warmly then, leaning in and letting his forehead fall gently against yours. "I would do it all over again, angel.” He whispered to you, absolutely certain. “From that first day, you’ve been patient with me. You've been so understanding, and you've been there for me through all my shit. I’m not gonna hold this one thing against you when you’ve never done that to me. I’ve been on the other side of feeling guilty in this relationship, so trust me... we're even." He laughs, voice low.

Hearing his reassurance, a small, soft, sad smile graced your lips as he wiped one last stray tear. You looked at him through your lashes, forehead still pressed to his, a genuine laugh escaping your lips through your tears.

Rafe smirked, reaching out to gently pinch your cheek. "There she is.” He teased. “...You're so pretty, you know that? Even when you're crying."

"Shut up," you giggled, swatting his hand away playfully as you leaned back.

But Rafe leaned in closer, pulling you back toward him as his eyes dropped to your lips. His fingers trailed up your neck, thumb caressing your jawline, before he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against yours. 

The kiss was deep, warm, and filled with over a week's worth of built-up longing. You melted into it, hands wrapping around his shoulders as you kissed him back. The moment his mouth parted over yours, your tongues mingled, desperate to remember the taste of each other, a low groan vibrating deep in Rafe’s chest as he grabbed your waist, hauling you onto his lap.

Your fingers flew to his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you held him close, your heavy breathing filling the space between you. Rafe’s hands were everywhere, gripping your hips and tracing up your spine, pulling you flush against him until you could feel the pounding of his heart. You broke apart for a second, both of you gasping for air, eyes locked, before he let out something between a moan and a groan, the words ‘I missed you’ coming out in one single breath before he slammed his lips back onto yours, deepening the exchange with an urgency that left you breathless, grabbing at each other until you couldn’t even breathe.

When he pulled away, he kept his arms wrapped around your waist, both of you sitting cozier than ever.

You looked up at his face, a soft pout on your lips. "I don't like seeing you cry, Rafe."

Rafe let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "I think you do, honestly.” He squinted playfully. “I think you get off on it. Freak."

You laughed at his words, hitting his chest playfully. "I do think you look pretty when you cry, but it doesn't mean I like to see it. And I especially don't ever want to be the reason you're crying..."

Rafe smirked, his voice dropping as he leaned in to whisper against your ear. "It's okay, angel. Hopefully, you can make up for it to me soon."

Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking down the path made you both turn, faces hardening immediately.

Sofia walked in, stopping at the archway with her arms crossed tightly. She didn't look at Rafe. Instead, she locked her eyes on you. "...Can I talk to you?” She asks, looking uncomfortable. “Alone."

Rafe’s face instantly twisted. "Fuck no.” He answered for you, placing a protective hand on your thigh. “What the hell do you two have to talk about?"

You reached over, gently grabbing Rafe’s hand. "Rafe, it's fine."

Rafe whipped his head around, looking at you like you’d grown an extra head, trying to pull you back down. "No. You don't—"

"I'll be fine, Rafe. Trust me," you smiled reassuringly. You stood up, letting his hand fall from yours ans walking toward the door, but before you left, you turned back, leaned down, and wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck, planting a passionate, lingering kiss on his lips. Sofia’s jaw tensed with rage, huffing through her nose as she muttered something under her breath as you pulled away slowly. “I’ll be right back.”

Confessional : Rafe “Oh my fucking God. Can she just go away?” His eyes narrowed, dragging both his hands down his face, groaning loudly. “Seriously, fuck the viewers at this point. Just let me decide who goes home next, I promise on my life, I will make it worth your while.”

YOU and Sofia walked out toward the open expanse of the yard. As you walked by, the rest of the Islanders were scattered around—John B and Sarah waving wildly at each other up in Soul Ties, Cleo and Rima talking on the daybeds—and absolutely everybody stopped talking, staring at the two of you in hushed shock, wondering what the hell was going on, or about to happen.

You decided to sit down on the beanbags, in the open. You felt more comfortable having the conversation where people could see you, considering the last time you and Sofia had a private conversation in the dressing room, she had said some pretty unhinged things to you.

She sat opposite you, letting out a sharp breath, adjusting her dress before speaking, her tone clipped.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," Sofia said, a fleeting, empty apology before she switched to her real agenda. "But... you need to realize that what you saw on that screen wasn't what really went down at Casa."

You sat back, an unbothered smile pulling at your lips.

"Rafe isn’t who you think he is. He was all over me over there," Sofia lied smoothly. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so annoyed. "He was telling me how much he missed me, how he wanted to get back together—he’s lying to you."

Days ago, this might have destroyed you, sent you into a spiral. But now? You knew exactly who Sofia was—a deeply manipulative, desperate liar. And, this time, you didn't entertain her. You didn't get angry, and you didn't get loud. You just sat there, nodding along calmly, humming indifferently, and refusing to give her anything to work with.

Sofia frowned, her irritation growing at your lack of reaction. You two sat in tense silence as she grew angry at your composure, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek before she seemed to snap, scoffing and throwing herself back against the beanbag. "Why don't you give a shit?” She hissed, on the border of a tantrum. “I am literally telling you that Rafe is a liar!"

"Because I know exactly who you are at this point, Sofia," you said, voice deadpan. "And I know that you’re lying through your teeth. You’ve made it pretty clear that you’ll do whatever it takes to break me and Rafe apart, hoping that by some miracle, he’ll run back to you."

Sofia’s face twisted as she let out a harsh, cynical laugh, staring at you. "You think you have him figured out?” She shook her head, looking like she was on the edge of trying harder to upset you before her face just fell, her shoulders slumping. “I knew it.” She pouts, though her eyes remained angry as you turned confused. “I knew there was something different about you. I knew it from that night."

You frowned, your brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Sofia leaned back, her nostrils flared as she seemed to regress into her own silent rage, seeming like she was cursing herself more than actually talking to you. "For all the bad things me and Rafe did to each other in our relationship... neither of us ever cheated. But... there was one night…he came close. He always denied it, but…I knew." Sofia’s eyes locked onto yours, a bitter smirk on her face. "...You don't remember me, do you?” She asked, tilting her head. “You don't remember him either."

Your heart stopped, lip curling. "What?"

"I saw how Rafe explained our breakup to you, before Casa, I watched it.” She shrugged. “But he didn’t tell you how things were.” She hissed, leaning forward. “Rafe was drinking, heavy, back then, he was high out of his mind constantly. We were arguing, back-to-back every day. But there was one argument that just…never faded for me. When I caught him at a strip club in Vegas after he told me he was there on business."

Sofia leaned even further in, her voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "I had a gut feeling, so I followed him there. And instead of finding him doing business, he was with all his friends—high, throwing ones at strippers, flirting with bartenders. I walked in, ready to confront him, but before I reached him... I spotted him at the bar. He was talking to a girl.” She swallowed, sucking in a deep breath. “And even from all the way across the club, through the crowd, under the lights… I could see the look he was giving her. He was drunk, probably high too, his hands wrapped around her thighs, and he was looking up at her like she was the most beautiful, captivating thing he had ever seen in his entire life." She laughed bitterly to herself.

“I tried to so hard to forget that night, to forget her. I almost did…until I saw you.” Sofia stared directly into your eyes, voice trembling. "Because it was you."

“...What the hell are you talking about?”

Sofia pursed her lips at your words, eyes low. “You’re telling me you really don’t remember?”

Your eyes were narrowed, lips slightly parted as you wracked your brain, thinking harder than you had since you got here. Then, the sound of Sofia's voice faded away as a memory came slamming into your brain…

You were back in that suffocating Las Vegas club, the air clouded with the scent of expensive perfume, musky cologne, liquor, and smoke. The vibe was sensual—low neon purple and pink lights bathed the room in an ethereal glow. Women were dancing slowly on the illuminated stages, and the rumbling chatter of men and the bass of the music vibrated through the floor.

You were working your shift, only a bottle girl by then, wearing a tight, revealing black outfit, carrying a tray of drinks across the crowded room. You bounced around from table to table, typically seeing the same nameless, wealthy men passing through a couple times a week. Faces usually blurred together. But that night, you walked up to the bar, and your eyes landed on a guy sitting alone. He looked a lot younger than the usual crowd. 

You don’t know why you approached him. You just felt like you should, your feet carrying you to him.

Rafe was younger then, his hair longer and messier, blue eyes glassy and wild. He was sitting at the bar, high and drunk, distant from his friends who were admiring the strippers and throwing money away nearby.

You walked up to him, a flirtatious smile on your lips. It was your job to flirt, it was how you made your living. "Hi," you said, your voice smooth over the loud music as you shifted your weight. "You look lonely. Can I get you another drink?"

Rafe slowly turned his head, prepared to coldly dismiss you when his glassy eyes locked onto your face. His words died in his throat as he stared at you, starstruck, as if the rest of the club had completely vanished around him. He let out a low, raspy chuckle, his words slightly slurred.

"Yeah," Rafe murmured, his eyes tracking the movement of your lips as they curved upwards, satisfied. "Get me whatever you're having."

You giggled, leaning against the bar. "I'm on the clock, handsome.” You pouted cutely. “I can't drink. But you can definitely throw another one back for me."

Rafe licked his lips slowly, his gaze charged as he looked up at you. "You're trying to drain my wallet, I see. In more ways than one."

You arched an eyebrow, leaning closer. "And what’s that supposed to mean?"

Rafe slurred a low laugh, his voice a raspy whisper. "I mean... another drink and I’ll probably be stumbling to the back with you."

You let out a soft, sultry laugh, looking down at him as one of your hands reached out, tracing the lines of his arm. "Hm. You’re too handsome to be a drunk one-nighter. I’d much prefer you sober."

At that, Rafe hummed, reaching out. His large, warm hands wrapped around the sides of your thighs, fingers trailing slowly up the fabric of your outfit, what little of it there was. His touch burned, goosebumps raising on your skin immediately, a blinding bolt of electricity shooting straight through your skin, making your breath hitch. He didn't move his hands, keeping his grip tight on your thighs as he stared up at your face, looking at you like you were a literal goddess.

Your thoughts in that moment rushed back to you—you remembered thinking how gentle this guy was despite clearly being out of his mind, how pretty his blue eyes looked under the neon lights, and how he was making your entire shift.

"You're beautiful," Rafe whispered, his voice serious as his hands ran up and down your frame. "Way too fucking beautiful to be working in a place like this."

You laughed it off softly, though your heart was hammering against your ribs so hard it hurt. "I think me being beautiful is exactly why I'm here."

"No," Rafe muttered, shaking his head slightly before his eyes locked onto yours. "Y’know what I mean..."

You hummed then, teasing. “I’m not sure I do,” you taunted, eyes narrowing as his hands squeezed you briefly in warning. “Enlighten me.”

He continued flirting with you, his eyes never once leaving yours as the two of you threw comments back and forth, inching closer until you were standing in between his open thighs. But suddenly, mid-laugh, you looked up past his shoulder, spotting a dark-haired girl standing across the crowded club near the entrance, glaring directly at the two of you, her face twisted in pure rage.

Your smile died then, your head lowering. You knew how this went. Gently tapping Rafe’s shoulder and nodding toward the girl, "Uh, I... think someone is here for you."

Rafe slowly turned his head through the crowd, eyebrows pinched before spotting Sofia standing there, face tightening. "Shit," he muttered, pouting as you stepped out of his reach.

You didn't take offense. Working in clubs, you had seen your fair share of angry girlfriends and wives storming in to drag their men out by their ears. You offered him one final, soft smile, turning around and walking away into the shadows.

After that night, you hadn't thought about it too much. You saw thousands of men, and faces easily faded. But the exact way that he had made you feel—that intense pull—had stuck in the back of your mind for months. You remembered looking around the club for his face for weeks afterward, hoping he'd become a regular, shamefully hoping his girlfriend, you’d assumed, had rightfully called it quits and maybe that’d make him come back. But he never returned. Just as you realistically figured he wouldn’t when you recalled seeing his North Carolina ID on the bar counter…

Snapping you back to the present, you blinked rapidly, staring across at Sofia, your jaw slightly parted as the realization settled in. 

It was him. It had always been him.

"...If that's the case, Sofia," you said, your voice dropping into a serious tone. "Why do you want him back so bad?"

Sofia’s face shifted from sad to serious, eyes hardening with an ugly ambition. "Because I love Rafe.” She quips. “He is the only guy who has ever taken care of me in my life. I dealt with the ugliest side of him, thinking it meant I could have the life I wanted in the end, the life I knew Rafe could provide...Just for him to break up with me and give the best version of himself to you."

You shook your head, looking at her with genuine pity. "Sofia... that isn't love—"

"I beg to differ," Sofia snapped, glaring at you. "I see the way he looks at you, sure.” She shrugs, bitter. “But I’m not going to allow you to just take him. I want him to look at me like that, and I won’t stop until he does.” She admits, like anything she’s saying makes any logical sense. “I’ll do whatever I have to."

Without waiting for a response, Sofia got up, turned, and walked away, leaving you sitting there, head spinning.

YOUR heart raced as you walked back toward Say Less, finding Rafe still sitting anxiously. The moment he saw you, his eyes lit up as he opened his arms for you.

"What happened?” Rafe asked instantly. “What did she say to you?"

You looked deep into his eyes as you walked to him slowly, sitting down, face still blank. "Rafe... did you remember me?"

Rafe froze, hands on your arms as confusion flashed across his face for a moment, fully prepared to ask what you meant. Then a hint of knowingness, a quiet anticipation flashed through his eyes—as if he had been waiting for this exact question since the day you met. He didn't try to play dumb, and he didn't ask what you meant. He took a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

"...Not at first I didn't, no," Rafe admitted quietly.

You weren't upset at all, though it was clear he though you were. Truthfully, you were just confused. 

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Rafe looked back up, his blue eyes vulnerable, surprised that you weren’t yelling at him. "At first, I wasn’t even sure.” He tells you, pulling you closer. “That night… I was high out of my mind, seeing literal stars, and everything was a blur.” He sighs. “...But the more time we spent together in here, the more I got to know you, I realized I would never mistake you for anyone else. Because I never really forgot you to begin with."

He shifted closer, his hands gently resting on your waist. "After we met that night, it was like you left a permanent mark on me. I had never felt that type of…pull toward someone in my life. I felt like I was going crazy. I would sometimes see your face in my dreams. It’d be blurry, but...I could still make it out. Other times, when I…got high, all I would remember was that night at the club with you. Your voice, your eyes, the way you smiled..."

Tears stung the corners of your eyes as you pouted at him. "Why didn't you tell me then? When you finally did realize it?"

"I didn't want to ruin it," Rafe whispered softly, his thumb caressing your hip. "I thought…saying something might scare you off, or make you think I was creepy. Plus, it just felt like it would’ve brought up bad memories for both of us about who we were at the time. Even when you were explaining your past to me, even though I had already figured it out by then, I just didn't want to break the moment.” He shrugs softly. “I figured it would come back to you naturally one day. I was kind of hoping it would.” He smiles, small, to himself. “Because I was praying to God that I had left the impression on you that you left on me." He looked at you. "Did I?"

You gave him a lopsided smile, leaning forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as you nodded, Rafe smiling in response. "I didn't have dreams about you or anything,” you teased. “...but you were the best experience I had working in those clubs. For months, I would replay our conversation, the feeling I got when your fingers brushed against my skin... it never left my mind. I was moving from city to city, so many faces passed through, so your face didn't stick, but that night did. I used to look around that club for you every shift, waiting for you to come back."

Rafe let out a laugh, pulling you flush against his body and into his lap with a playful groan. You both realized that this wasn't just a reality show connection or something born out of proximity.

You let out a soft sigh, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “I’m not gonna lie... I feel kind of bad for Sofia now,” you murmured. 

Rafe’s eyebrows pinched, looking down at you. “For what?” 

“I don’t know, I would’ve hated to be her in that situation. It makes me feel kind of guilty,” you admitted, tracing a pattern on his chest. “She didn’t even see what you did that night as cheating.” 

Rafe squinted down at you, a half-smirk on his lips. “Do you see it as cheating?” 

You let out a disbelieving scoff, rolling your eyes. “Hell yeah. Are you out of your mind? You were holding another girl's thighs...at a bar...in a strip club.” Rafe chuckled softly, squeezing you tight. 

“They were your thighs,” He tries to flirt, but you fix him with a disapproving look. “I’m not that person anymore, angel. You got nothing to worry about with me.” 

You softened, leaning your head back down into his chest. “I know. I trust you.” You paused, a small smirk playing on your lips as you teased, "But just as a warning, if you ever cheat on me, I will castrate you and destroy quite literally everything you own.“

Rafe nodded at your words, serious but also slightly amused. "Noted."

"That's all you gotta say?" You taunted, quirking one singular brow.

Rafe just shrugged lazily. "It'll never happen, so neither of us have anything to worry about."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, leaning further into him. "Good answer," you sighed. "But I definitely see why she hates my guts so much now.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s been so long since that night happened, and it wasn’t your fault. She can’t be mad at you and want me back at the same time—it doesn't make any sense.” He sighed, kissing the top of your head before sighing heavily. “I don’t want to talk about Sofia anymore.”

As you cuddled on the couch, Rafe tracing his fingers on the surface of your skin, his voice dropping into a tender tone. "I am never going to do anything to hurt you, angel.” He says softly. "All I want is you."

“You have me,” you returned, muttering sweetly.

But, consciously deciding to work on communication right then and there, Rafe transitioned to a heavy topic. "...I don’t really like how Theo spoke to you tonight."

You sighed, lips flapping as you let air escape them. "I didn't either," you admitted.

Rafe shifted to be able to look at you. "Where do you stand with that, though? Do you... do you still want to explore things with him?" He asked cautiously, trying to be fair and not sway your decision.

"No," you said, not an ounce of hesitation. "Although it probably makes me look like a bad person, I guess it’s only right to admit that…I only brought him back because of that video. I did genuinely like him, the connection wasn’t fake, but deep down… I didn't want to look stupid if you walked through the doors with Sofia.” You say, guilt-ridden. “But tonight, I saw a completely different, ugly side of him. And the girls even said that it doesn't add up that he was this super understanding, patient guy up until tonight. The second I head in your direction, all his patience goes out the window and he turns into an asshole." You scoff. "But none of that matters anyway,” you shrug, resettling into him.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it was never gonna be him.” You sighed, peering up at Rafe as he strokes the skin of your cheek. “I’ll talk to him tonight, cut things off."

"Don’t get me wrong when I say this, angel, but…” Rafe hesitates. “Are you sure that's fair? You've given me a hell of a lot of chances in here."

You rolled your eyes, a warmth hitting your cheeks. "Yeah, well... that's you."

Rafe leaned in closer, teasing. "Well, what's the difference between me and him, huh?"

You smirked, teasing him right back. "You'll find out eventually, Cameron. I'm not quite ready to say those words. Especially not after a shitty night like this.” You scoff, though lighthearted, as you slid out of Rafe’s hold to stand, smoothing out your dress as he helps you. “I’m gonna go find Theo, let him know it's over, and then after that…” You egged on, hands on Rafe’s thigh as you leaned down, your nose tapping his as you both smiled softly. “I am back to being all yours."

Rafe laughed, craning his neck up to kiss your forehead.

TAKING a deep breath, you spotted Theo sitting by the fire pit. You walked over, shoulders square, heels clicking against the deck.

"Theo," you called. Theo looked up, his expression significantly calmer than it had been during the screaming match. “We should talk.”

He nodded slowly, shifting to the side even though there was enough room for you to sit. "Yeah..."

You sat opposite him, wasting no time in taking control of the conversation, hands clasped in your lap. "I want to start by saying that I don’t appreciate the way you came at me tonight, or the way you've been treating me all day." Theo went to speak, but you held up a hand. "Let me finish, please.” You stop him. “I understand you're hurt, but everything I said earlier still stands. I have been completely transparent with you since day one. I have never lied to you, I have never gone behind your back, and I tried my absolute best to give you a fair shot in here.” You explained.

“I know I probably haven't done the best job of that because of my feelings for Rafe, but I don’t like the way you painted things. More than once, you acknowledged that you knew my feelings for Rafe were stronger, and you repeatedly told me that even if I chose him, you would be okay. But the second you felt the walls closing in, I’m sorry but, you turned into a complete asshole." 

Theo let out a heavy breath, looking down at his hands as he wrung them. "I do want to apologize," Theo started quietly, looking into your eyes. "I am sorry for speaking to you that way earlier. I let my emotions take over. And I also want you to know I wasn't using you just to get into the villa. I do genuinely like you. But... I guess I have to admit that my patience and understanding wasn't entirely genuine."

He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "Truthfully, I have been frustrated with you not knowing what you wanted. I should have come forward and been honest about it, instead of pretending to be this perfect, understanding guy, and then completely blowing up on you when things didn't go my way. I take full accountability for that.” He emphasizes with his hands. “I think... I think I was just completely stuck on the idea that I could be the guy to change your mind. And when I realized tonight that I couldn't... I got upset, I won't lie. And I’m not naive. I know that after tonight, you probably aren't willing to explore us anymore. I don't blame you."

You let out a soft breath, appreciating his honesty. "Thank you, Theo. And, you're right, I am ending things between us tonight. But I want to clarify that it doesn't have everything to do with how you spoke to me earlier. I won't sit here and say I'm dumping you just because you got aggressive, because when Rafe did the exact same thing, I gave him another chance. So that would be hypocritical of me." You looked at him gently. "I'm ending it because, clearly, what happened between me and Rafe was a huge misunderstanding. And, to end things honestly with you, Theo... had that misunderstanding not happened, you probably wouldn't even be here right now."

Theo let out a faint, sad smirk, nodding. "Yeah. I figured."

"But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t great getting to know you, Theo," you concluded respectfully. "But my connection with Rafe is easily the strongest thing I have ever felt in my entire life, and if I were to continue trying with you, I would never be able to give you 100% of myself. Rafe is what I want.” You told him. “I hope we can still be at least cordial while we're both here, but I understand if that’s not something you want, and I wish you nothing but the best."

Theo nodded, a look of acceptance settling over him. "I saw it coming, honestly, and I chose to pursue you anyway. I put myself in this situation.” He takes the blame. “I apologize, again, for not fully being myself. That perfect, patient guy... that's just not who I am in the real world. It was who I was trying to be for you, but clearly, it didn't work. I'll keep working on myself. But yeah,” He shrugs. “I want to be cool, I want to be cordial, and I have nothing against you, Y/N. You are beautiful, amazing, and Rafe is a lucky guy.” He offers genuinely. “Hopefully, I can clear the air with him later too."

You offered him a warm smile, and the two of you stood up, hugging it out before parting ways.

THE girls were gathered in the glam room, getting ready for bed, the tension thicker than ever.

Sarah was pacing in her silk pajamas, her eyes red and puffy as she continued her rant about John B, still distraught. "I’m just really hurt," Sarah cried, throwing her hands in the air. "The part that’s killing me is the fact that he reached a stage with her in less than a week that me and him haven't even fucking reached yet!” Fresh tears flowed from her eyes as she braided her hair up in the full body mirror, sniffing. “And when I confronted him about it, he was literally just talking in circles!"

She wiped a stray tear away snappily. "I told him that he was moving as if he had the potential to fall in love with her, and he didn't even deny it!” Her hands drop from her hair as she cries into her palms, still standing. You pout then, rounding the table to hug her as she sobbed. “He lied straight to my face. Why the fuck did he sit me down and pull me for a chat just to lie to my face about all of it?! He keeps saying over and over that, in the end, he chose me, but it doesn't fucking matter! He embarrassed me!" She sobbed, so hard her shoulders shook.

"We're so sorry, Sar," you murmured, rubbing a hand up and down her back. She continued to cry into your shoulder as the other girls offered their words of comfort. You stood with her for a long minute until she calmed down, gently removing herself from your hold and shooting you a sad smile. “Are you sleeping in the room tonight?”

She immediately shook her head. “No, hell no. I don’t want to be near him.” She wiped her eyes.

“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “He’s giving you the bed.”

Sarah laughed at that, always grateful for you. “It’s fine—”

“No, it’s not.” You shot her a pointed look as you applied moisturizer to your lips. “He doesn’t get to lie to your face and shower with another girl then sleep peacefully while you sleep outside. Plus, you know you’re scared of the owl.” At that, all of the girls let out light laughs, the mood elevating slightly.

“What? I just go up to him and tell him to get out of the bed?” Sarah asked, voice still strained. “I don’t even want to look at him…”

“I’ll do it,” You shrugged. “Just give me a minute and I got you.”

Sarah nodded gratefully, running to kiss your cheek before she left the room. But as you continued to get ready, it became apparent that there was also a wall of tension between Rima and Cleo. They were refusing to acknowledge each other's existence in the room while the other girls chatted mindlessly. 

So, when Cleo walked into the adjoining bathroom, you decided to follow her. You pushed the door open, sliding it closed behind you, finding Cleo in front of the marble sink, squeezing toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

"Hey," you said softly. "You okay? Did you and Rima talk?"

Cleo let out a frustrated breath, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "We tried to have a conversation, but we just see the situation in two different ways.” She shrugged, sticking the toothbrush in her mouth, talking and brushing. “Rima doesn't think she's in the wrong at all. She keeps saying that me and Pope kissed first, and that had we not kissed, Justin would have never kissed her. She doesn’t think I have a right to be upset with her because I kissed Pope."

Cleo covered her mouth to spit in the sink, wiping her face, voice dropping into a hurt whisper. "But I still think I deserve the right to be upset!” She pouts. “I'm not even really mad that she and Justin kissed. I'm upset because it feels like they’re maybe not over each other as much as they claimed to be. And I hate the fact that I had to find out through Movie Night, when Rima had all day to tell me the truth. But when I said that, she said I had all day to tell Justin about Pope, and that when Justin asked me, I lied to his face."

You looked at Cleo. In terms of taking sides, you knew it best to remain neutral and give her the more objective truth.

"Cleo... I'm not taking sides here," you said gently, leaning against the sink. "But, I understand you've been open with Justin about still having feelings for Pope... but when it came down to it, you did lie to Justin's face when he asked you if you kissed him.” You told her honestly. “So, I don't think it's necessarily fair for you to be mad at Rima for the kiss, especially when Justin was the one who came onto her."

Cleo rolled her eyes, groaning, knowing you were right.

"However," you continued firmly, "I also don't think it's fair for Rima to think she shouldn't have told you. We’re supposed to be girls, and she should have had your back and been upfront the second it happened. But, from the look on her face when she pulled Rafe, she did look really upset.” You threw out in her defense. “And I know I’m the last person to be saying this but, you need to make up your mind between Pope and Justin, babe. And after that, you and Rima need to have a real conversation about both of your feelings. If Rima still has feelings for Justin, she needs to say it, but if she doesn’t, then that’s enough to put this behind you."

You reached for Cleo’s arm, squeezing it. "This villa moves crazy fast. People get dumped constantly, and we never know who could be next. It is not worth falling out over a guy. All four of you need to just sit down together and hash it out."

Cleo looked at you, a sigh escaping her lips as she nodded. "You're right.” She nodded. “I think I needed to hear that."

“Anytime,” you smiled, hugging her lightly. "I’ll see you in the morning." 

Cleo nodded and you smiled, kissing her cheek before walking out of the bathroom.

YOU walked out onto the lower deck, the night air brushing your skin as you began setting up the blankets and pillows on the outdoor daybeds. It was a bittersweet feeling, but for the first time in a long, grueling week, you and Rafe were finally back to sharing a bed. Even if it was the daybed again. 

As you smoothed out the sheets, Rafe finally walked out to join you, wearing nothing but his grey sweatpants. He glanced up toward the upper deck, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I heard you kicked John B out of the room,” he murmured. 

Looking up, you both could see John B miserably setting up his own blanket and pillow over in Soul Ties. You let out a proud scoff, shaking out a pillow. “Yep. He doesn’t get to sleep comfortably after what he did.” 

Rafe let out a low chuckle, stepping close to help you set up the covers. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

You turned your head, a teasing smirk pulling at your lips. “I’m sure you know that all too well by now.” 

Looking down at you standing there in your short sleep shorts and oversized tee of his, his blue eyes lit up, thinking you looked absolutely adorable. You both slid under the covers together, and you turned to him with a teasing smirk. 

Rafe let out a chuckle as he peered down at your face, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. "Sleeping on these things feels one-hundred times better with you. I’m not even joking."

"Yeah," you whispered, turning your body around so you were facing him. "I definitely agree."

Rafe stared down at your face. Before you could even open your mouth to ask why he was staring, Rafe leaned down and captured your lips in a hungry kiss. His lips were warm and soft, his tongue smoothly sliding into your mouth as you groaned softly against his lips, lifting your legs, wrapping them tightly around his waist under the blanket.

He groaned at the movement, gently biting your lower lip as his hand slithered down your back, sliding underneath your sleep shorts, squeezing your ass hard before his fingers pressed firmly against the skin between your legs, a breathy moan leaving your lips. 

“Rafe…” you whine softly as he began rubbing you through your underwear, the fabric growing damp, sticking to you in a way that only made his touch feel that much better as he caught your lips again to silence your light moans while you arched into his touch.

In the heat of it all, you had half a mind to reach down, your hand sliding into his sweatpants, fingers palming his length over his briefs, rubbing him firmly with an occasional squeeze. Rafe let out a ragged gasp into your mouth, dick jumping as he began bucking his hips up into your hand, losing control under your touch.

His hand then slid out of your underwear just to slid in from the front, his lips moving down to your neck, sucking on your skin as his fingers found your clit, rubbing circles into you. You were stroking him faster, squeezing him through his pants, and Rafe let out a rough, breathless groan against your neck.

"Fuck..." Rafe gasped, his breathing shallow, hips twitching. "If you... if you keep doing that, I’m gonna—"

And like a slap to the face, when Rafe let out a low whine and let lust take over, a large finger dipping into you that made you gasp loudly, you suddenly realized exactly where you were. You let out a breathless giggle, slowly pulling your hand out of his pants as he removed his fingers from your underwear.

"We should probably calm down," you whispered, burying your face in his chest. "Production, John B, and the owl are gonna kill us."

Rafe let out a raspy laugh, amused as he looked down at you, his eyes still slightly clouded over as he took the same fingers that had just been inside you and casually popped them into his own mouth, licking them clean.

"Rafe, stop!" you whined, hitting his chest playfully as you covered your face.

Rafe chuckled, pulling your hands from your face and kissing your lips hard one last time before reaching into his sweatpants to readjust himself with a low, longing sigh. He pulled you against his chest, tucking your head underneath his chin as you both stared up at the star-filled night sky.

The silence of the night settled over you, peaceful. You played with the strings of his sweatpants, looking up at him. "...What do you think people think about us? Like out there? The people watching…"

Rafe let out a soft laugh, his chest rising and falling beneath you. "They probably think we’re a fuckin’ mess."

You laughed along softly, but a tiny pang of sadness crossed your features. You sighed, looking down. "Yeah... that's probably my fault. They probably fucking hate me for how I treated you this week."

Rafe stopped laughing then. He reached down, cupping your chin firmly and forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

"I don't think a single person in this entire world could ever look at you and hate you.”

next chapter>

this is like 50% proofread so im sorry if it's like LITTERED with errors

You had finished your skincare routine, put on your favorite bikini, done your makeup, and still, no Theo. 

Confused and feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach, you walked out to the terrace and peered down at the outdoor kitchen. The boys were scattered, the rest of the girls eating, but Theo wasn't even there. In fact, he was sitting by the pool, staring blankly at the water.

Confessional : You “I don’t get it. An hour ago, we were fine. Now he’s sitting across the villa looking miserable, and I haven't even spoken to him yet.

Sighing, you walked down the stairs and took a seat on one of the daybeds, pulling your knees up to your chest. The villa was ambient with the usual morning chatter, but you felt isolated in your own confusion.

"Hey."

You looked up, the shadow of a tall figure blocking the morning sun—Rafe. In his hand, he held a condensation-beaded plastic cup filled with a smoothie. 

"I didn’t see you eat anything," Rafe said, his voice quiet, almost cautious. He scratched the back of his neck, eyes searching your face. "I noticed... uh, I noticed you didn't get any breakfast brought up. I was going to make you a plate but I didn’t want to, like, overstep or anything…"

"Thank you, Rafe," you murmured, reaching out to take the cup with a small smile. Your fingers brushed against his, making your heart do that stupid little flip as you took a sip.

Things were still undeniably awkward between you two, the weight of your date yesterday still hanging in the air. You were definitely more open to him now, the walls you’d built around your heart beginning to melt, but the confusion of being caught between your connection with Rafe and your one with Theo was draining.

Rafe sat down on the edge of the daybed, leaving a respectful amount of space between you, though his eyes never left your face. "You look beautiful today, by the way.” He compliments boyishly, almost like he wasn't sure if he should even say it but decided to anyway. “...But you look worried."

"I don't know," you admitted, staring down at the pink smoothie, swirling it around mindlessly. "Theo's just... he's acting so weird. He said he was making me breakfast, and then he just ghosted. He won't even look at me. I haven’t tried to talk to him about…anything, yet. But…I just feel weird."

Rafe’s jaw tensed at the mention of Theo's name, but he caught himself, taking a slow, controlled breath. He didn't want to push you away.

"C’mere," Rafe murmured, shifting closer, and before you could even process it, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. Startled, you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, melting into him. His chest was just as solid as you remembered, skin smelling like the same expensive cologne. Rafe leaned down, pressing a tender kiss into the top of your head, holding you tight against him for a long while.

"Don't stress about it, alright?" he whispered against your hair, hands gently rubbing your back.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, a soft, grateful smile tugging at your lips as you squeezed his arm. “I’ll try.”

WHILE you were trying to figure out what might’ve caused Theo’s random shift in attitude, the rest of the villa was navigating their own drama. Over by the daybeds, Cleo and Justin were chatting, but something in their body language was off. Ever since the most recent challenge, where Cleo and Pope had shared a heated kiss, a strange wall had been built between her and Justin.

And Justin tried to play it cool, but the insecurity was eating him alive. 

He looked around the villa, his eyes landing on Rima, who was sunbathing by herself near the pool. Yes, Rima was his ex-girlfriend, the girl he shared history with, but despite everything, she was the one person in this villa he felt comfortable confiding in.

Walking over, Justin tapped Rima’s shoulder. "Hey, can I pull you?"

Rima sat up, adjusting her sunglasses, a look of surprise crossing her face. "Uh, yeah, sure…” She stands. “Everything alright?"

"Just need to talk for a second," Justin muttered, leading the way toward the hidden lounge, the door shut behind them. 

OUT on the grass, John B was pacing back and forth, stress pulling at his features. He and Sarah were on the rocks and he was desperately trying to convince himself that Sarah’s challenge kiss with JJ didn't mean anything, but the lingering guilt of his own actions at Casa was making him paranoid.

JJ and Pope were lounging on the beanbags nearby, watching the man lose his mind.

"Bro, chill, you’re gonna burn a hole into the lawn," JJ muttered, adjusting his cap.

John B stopped, turning to the guys. "I can't chill.” He hissed. “It's like she's intentionally dragging it out, giving me the silent treatment, throwing these little comments at me. I mean, I did what we’re supposed to be doing! I explored someone, but I still came back to her. She’s being petty for no reason…"

JJ let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Especially considering you didn’t even tell her the worst of it."

John B's face drained of color, whipping his head around, spotting Sarah walking past just a few feet away. "Dude, shut the fuck up," John B hissed, eyes wide, heart racing.

But Sarah didn't look over, entirely oblivious to the conversation.

Once she was out of sight, John B let out a breath, turning back to JJ. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

"I'm just sayin’," JJ defended, raising his hands. "You're sittin’ here complaining about her being petty, but you didn’t even tell her everything. If she finds out from someone else—"

"She’s not gonna find out," John B interrupted, his voice tight. "Telling her everything right now is just going to ruin everything.” He groans. “I came back to her. That's what matters."

Pope sighed, looking at John B with a mix of pity and disapproval. "We get where you're coming from, but... maybe you just shouldn't have done it in the first place if you knew it was gonna eat you alive like this."

"Yeah, I fucking know that, Pope.” John B snapped, flaring his nostrils. “But there isn't shit I can do about it now, is there?"

Confessional : John B “Things happened with Delaney but... it was a mistake. I regretted it the second we left.”

AS the afternoon dragged on, your confusion regarding Theo only morphed into irritation. He hadn't spoken a single word to you all day. Every time you walked into a room, he conveniently found a reason to leave.

You tried to rationalize it. Your first thought, naturally, was that he was upset about your date with Rafe yesterday. It made sense—no guy wanted to watch the girl he was coupled up with get swept away on a date by the guy she was coupled up with before that she clearly still has feelings for. But you quickly brushed that thought away. Theo had been so understanding last night, telling you that he knew you were in an awkward position, that he didn't expect you to just forget your history with Rafe overnight, and that he was willing to give you space to figure it out.

So why the sudden shift?

Seeing him standing by the outdoor gym, wiping his brow with a towel, you decided you were done accepting his cold shoulder. You walked over, your shoulders square, chin up.

"Hey, Theo," you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Can I pull you for sec?"

Theo didn't even look at you, keeping his eyes locked on the ground, jaw clenched. "I'm not really in the mood to talk."

You blinked, taken aback by his tone. "...I just want to know why you're literally avoiding me. Is that too much to ask for?"

"No," he shrugging, voice careless as he looked up at you. “But I already said I’m good.” He throws at you, turning his back and walking away.

Your chest tightened, hurt and embarrassment flooding you. You stood frozen for a moment, biting your lip to keep from tearing up, before turning around to walk away.

What you didn't notice was Rafe standing by the kitchen island, eyes locked onto you during the entire interaction. His eyes narrowed into slits as he watched you walk away with your head down, your shoulders slightly slumped, and his blood boiled. He hated seeing you upset, but seeing you get dismissed like you were nothing? He couldn’t stand it.

Confessional : Rafe “I’m looking across the villa and I see her try to talk to Theo. And this guy just completely turns his back on her, walks the fuck away, and leaves her standing there looking like she’s about to cry. I don't give a fuck what's going on between them, you don't treat her like that. And you can call me a hypocrite because I've technically done the same thing,” He winces, dragging the words out. “But I owned up to it and haven’t done it since!” He throws his hands up. “Plus, she’s the only reason this guy is even fucking here and he’s treating her like shit.”

Taking a deep breath, Rafe focused on keeping his temper in check. He knew his reputation in the villa, his reputation overall. He knew that if he approached Theo aggressively, it would only backfire and make things harder for you.

Rafe walked across the grass, his hands casually slipped into the pockets of his swim shorts. As he approached Theo, he took a breath, stopping a few feet away.

"Hey, Theo?" Rafe said, his voice uncharacteristically steady, though the boy's name tasted like venom on his tongue. "Y'got a second?"

Theo looked up, his expression hardening when he saw Rafe standing over him. "What do you want?"

Rafe shook his head slightly, a thought flashing through his mind. I can't believe I’m doing this shit right now. But at the end of the day, Rafe’s primary goal was always going to be protecting your heart, regardless of where he stood in the picture.

"Look, man, I'm not here to start anything," Rafe said, keeping his voice low so the other Islanders wouldn't overhear. "I just noticed... I saw Y/N try to pull you just now, and you brushed her off. I don't know if something happened between you two, but... she's doesn't deserve to be left hanging like that. If she's trying to talk to you, I think you should just give her the respect—"

“It doesn’t have shit to do with you.” Theo cuts in, letting out a harsh scoff, standing up from the beanbag so he was eye-level with Rafe. The height difference was minimal, but the tension between them was anything but. “Don’t come over here trying to play the hero.”

Rafe’s jaw worked, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes, but he kept his hands planted in his pockets. "...I'm not trying to start an issue, man."

But Theo was non-receptive. In fact, Rafe’s calm demeanor seemed to only fuel Theo’s anger as he stepped directly into Rafe’s space, his chest pressed nearly against his.

"You’re not fooling anyone," Theo hissed, his voice trembling with anger. "You've been hovering over her, trying to slide back into her bed, and now you're trying to lecture me on how to treat her?"

The villa went silent around them, eyes on the two men. Across the lawn, the guys stood up, their eyes wide as they prepared to sprint over if things started looking bad.

But surprisingly, Rafe remained quiet. The old Rafe would have cracked a smile and thrown a right hook without so much as a second thought. But right now, he was holding himself back with every ounce of strength he had. Inside his pockets, his hands were curled into white-knuckled fists, jaw clenched so hard the bone looked ready to snap, and his eyes were lowered, dark and dangerous, locked onto Theo’s face. 

For a long, agonizing five seconds, neither of them moved.

Then, Rafe let out a short huff of air. A slow smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, and, without uttering a single word, Rafe turned, pulled his hands from his pockets, and walked away, leaving a fuming Theo standing alone on the grass, glaring at his back.

RAFE searched the villa, spotting you sitting on the steps that led to the upper levels of the villa. He walked over, his expression softening the moment his eyes landed on you.

He sat down on the step beneath you, turning his body so he was looking up at you. "You okay?" he asked softly. "I saw what happened over there, when you tried to talk to him."

You let out a breath, burying your face in your hands for a brief second before looking back at him. Without really thinking, the words spilled out of your mouth. "I'm just... I'm confused. I'm not even sad or anything, I'm just... I don't understand why he's acting like that. He was the one telling me how much he understood me last night, and now he won't even give me the time of day."

Rafe sat there, listening as you poured your heart out. Every single word was like a twist of a knife in his chest, it pained him physically to hear you express emotional investment in someone else, to see you hurt over a guy who wasn't him. But he didn't interrupt. He allowed you to vent.

You suddenly caught yourself, guilt hitting you. "Oh my god, Rafe... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be sitting here crying to you about Theo. That's fucked. That’s not fair to you."

Rafe reached up, his hand gently wrapping around your ankle, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin. "Don't apologize to me. I told you, I don't care what the reason is.” He started, voice soft. “If you're hurting, I want to be the one to help you through it."

You offered him a pitiful smile, leaning forward. "I appreciate that, Rafe."

ACROSS the villa, Pope and Cleo were sitting by the daybeds again, their heads huddled close together as they laughed at something on Pope's phone. They had been chatting significantly more than usual all afternoon, a fact that everyone in the villa had noticed. Whenever anyone asked them about it, though, they both brushed it off, claiming they were "just talking." But the look in their eyes told a completely different story.

Over by the kitchen, JJ was standing by himself, zoned out.

"...Yo, you good?" John B asked, walking up to grab a piece of fruit.

JJ jumped at the sound of the boy’s voice, letting out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Honestly...I’m kina thrown off by Haja. It’s like every thing she does is to make Miles mad. I’m not a fucking pawn in their little game, bro.” JJ’s face twists. “I brought her back because I thought we had an actual connection, but it feels like she’s just using me to fuel whatever weird fire she still has going on with her ex..."

ON the daybeds, your conversation with Rafe was interrupted when Rima walked up to the two of you, her hands trembling slightly, looking more nervous than you had ever seen her.

"Rafe... Y/N, I'm sorry to interrupt," Rima said, her voice shaking slightly. She looked down at Rafe, her eyes wide with a strange anxiety. "Can I please him really quick? It's... it's kind of important."

Rafe frowned, looking between you and Rima, eyes stopping on you for an answer. You looked between them, not feeling any particular way. It was clear they’d grown to be friends. You nodded. "Yeah, of course, go ahead.” 

Rafe shot you a small smile, getting up from his place beside you. “Y’alright?"

"Just... let's go to somewhere else," she muttered, her eyes darting nervously toward the kitchen where Justin was standing, talking to JJ and John B.

You watched them walk away, a sense of uneasiness settling into your bones. But not about them.

About everything.

To you, the villa felt like a pot of water, ready to boil over, and you couldn’t put your finger on why.

Until the sudden, loud ping of a text message echoed through the villa.

You grabbed your phone, everyone watching your eyes go wide as you the message aloud.

"Islanders, tonight will be a red-carpet affair. Please get dressed for... MOVIE NIGHT! #GrabThePopcorn #DoubleFeature"

EVEN as the girls began to get ready in the dressing room, the silence was deadly. You felt that you truly had nothing to worry about. If anything, you were anticipating Movie Night, hoping, damn near praying, that it would show everything that happened at Casa.

And finally tell you if Rafe was telling the truth.

Noticeably, though, Rima, Cleo, Sofia, and Haja were the only ones who looked visibly shaken, their movements stiff and shaky as they pulled out dresses and began doing their makeup.

You and Sarah, however, were trying to break the tension.

"Oh my god," you laughed nervously, blending out your concealer. "I am actually terrified, but at the same time, I cannot wait to see what the hell is going to happen tonight."

Sarah giggled, curling a strand of her blonde hair. "Literally. Hopefully, it’s nothing like the first one. That was a mess..."

Normally, Rima and Cleo would have interjected themselves into the joke or conversation, throwing commentary back and forth. But they both remained silent, staring blankly into their mirrors. Cleo was biting the inside of her cheek, while Rima’s hands were visibly shaking as she applied her mascara.

"...Haja, are you excited?" Sarah asked, glancing your way with a confused look, trying to loop her into the conversation and clear some of the clear awkwardness.

Haja snapped her head around, her expression defensive. "Why are you asking me that?" she bit out snappily, pulling her dress up with a sharp jerk.

Sarah raised her eyebrows, exchanging a shocked look with you in the mirror. Sofia, per usual, remained quiet in the corner, her face unreadable.

You and Sarah both resigned yourselves to silence, sensing that this night probably wouldn’t be ending too well.

MEANWHILE, in the bedroom, the vibe was split.

Rafe was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He wasn't worried at all. In fact, he was actually pretty excited. He knew exactly what he had done at Casa and was desperately hoping that Movie Night would finally project the truth onto the big screen, showing you that you had absolutely no reason not to trust him. 

This night was his golden opportunity to finally get you back.

On the opposite side of the room, JJ and John B were in a similar nervous states. John B was pacing the floor, sweating through his shirt, running his hands through his hair so violently it looked like he was going to pull it out.

"Bro, I'm shaking. I am literally fucking shaking," John B panicked, his voice cracking. "I’m cooked, dude."

JJ wasn't doing much better, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. “Maybe they won’t show it, man.” He throws out, but even he doesn’t believe it.

John B shoots him a sharp look, sighing. 

Pope walked over, clapping John B on the shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. "Just breathe. What's done is done. Just sit there, take it on the chin, and be honest when it plays. If it plays."

Justin was sitting on the bench, unbothered, tying his shoes. He didn't think he had anything to worry about. 

Theo was sitting nearby, looking slightly jittery, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but he wasn't displaying the level of panic that was currently consuming the other boys.

"Alright," Rafe said, turning around with a confident smirk, hands in his pockets as he tossed reading the room out the window. "Let's go to the movies."

TWO long couches faced a massive projector screen. You and the girls sat on the left couch while the boys took their seats on the right.

“Is it bad that I’m getting scared?” Sarah, who was on your right, whispered. Your eyebrows pinched at her words, turning to face her.

“Why?”

She just shrugged, shifting in her seat. “I don’t know…” She huffed. “ I think I just don’t want to see him kissing Delaney.”

You planted a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I get it. But at least he told you,” you comforted. “I’m shaking, hoping Rafe was telling the truth about everything…”

Sarah sends you a soft smile then. “I have faith in him.”

At her words, you return the smile when the projector screen decides to come to life, all heads turning as a graphic appeared, displaying a series of seven numbered digital doors

Just then, the sound of a phone went off, Justin fishing his from his pocket and reading the text aloud.

“Islanders, welcome to Movie Night. To get started, you will flip a coin. Boys versus Girls. The winning side will choose a numbered door to reveal what is behind it. You will do this for every door."

“That’s makes this even more nerve-wrecking,” You throw out as Justin takes it upon himself to stand, picking up the big plastic ‘coin’ labeled ‘Boys’ on one side, ‘Girls’ on the other, flipping it in the air, watching it hit the ground, landing firmly on Boys.

The boys huddled up briefly, before Pope looked to the girls side. "We feel like we should just start from the beginning.” He tells you all as the boys lean back. “One." Pope called out.

The door on the screen slowly creaked open, zooming in as a bold, neon title materialized across the screen—IN LOVING MEMORY OF CASA AMOR.

The title faded before a scene graced the screen—the day all of your exes entered the villa. The day Casa started.

The clip started with you and the girls', showing the moment the Casa Boys walked into the villa before it shows a confessional of Sarah—"When we were together, Thomas had this super short buzzcut... but with the longer hair? Yeah, he looks good."

John B scoffs, eyes narrowing as he glares over at Sarah. Sarah ignores him, keeping her eyes locked on the screen.

The clip continues, showing Kiara looking unamused, Cleo looking indifferent, and Rima smiling broadly, admitting she was genuinely happy to see Justin because they had remained great friends after their breakup.

Then, your face appeared on the screen, hands moving wildly as you spoke in a confessional—"I am pissed…I don’t want Mattheo here. Why would I?...He put me through absolute hell, cheated on me multiple times, and he made me feel like I was absolutely nothing. I spent a long, painful time building myself back up from the mental suffering and the emotional dents that he left on my soul...I hate that he’s here. I really do."

And on the boys' side, a smirk broke across Rafe’s face. He let out a low chuckle, thrilled to see how deeply you despised your ex, but more importantly, he absolutely loved when you got feisty—well, as long as that fire wasn't aimed at him.

The screen instantly transitioned to the boys' side over at Casa Amor, showing the exact moment Sofia and the other ex-girlfriends walked through the villa gates. The camera locked onto Rafe’s face, looking ready to punch a hole into anything. The screen then cut to his confessional from that day—"Sofia?" Rafe seethed to the camera. "Out of every. single. girl on the planet, you bring her here?...I’m pissed. I know exactly why she’s here, and it’s for all the wrong reasons—reasons I, quite frankly, don’t give a single fuck about." He threw his hands up in the air, reeling back in his seat. "And I know she is going to try her absolute hardest to throw a fucking wrench into everything…I didn’t even want to come here. I was happy where I was. But I already know this is gonna stir some shit up regardless..."

Cleo let out a sudden laugh from the middle of the couch, turning her head to look at you. “Y’all are literally the same person,” she said, shaking her head.

Sofia let out a loud scoff, crossing her arms tightly, mumbling under her breath. You looked over at Rafe, your chest swelling. He really hadn't wanted her there.

The clip continued, showing JJ acting relatively unbothered about Delaney’s arrival. Then, John B appeared on screen, playing it cool as he talked about Kaitlyn’s arrival: "There’s no real hard feelings between us…but I know for a fact she would never date me again…and I’m focused on Sarah anyway.”

In the audience, Sarah leaned over, whispering skeptically to Cleo, "But it doesn't mean he would never date her though," John B winced, watching the interaction.

The clip briefly showed Miles looking not-too-happy about Haja’s arrival, and Pope looking mildly weirded out by Winnie’s presence.

The screen then shifted to the day of the Casa Amor recoupling, showing the girls' side first.

It replayed Sarah choosing Thomas, her post-recoupling confessional flashing—"I just think we left the past in the past, and I’m okay with that."

Then came Cleo choosing Justin, showing Cleo smiling bigger than she had in weeks—"I’m excited. I think he’s sexy, obviously. And I think we made some great conversation yesterday, so I’m happy."

On the boy’s couch, Pope’s posture slouched, a deeply sad, dejected expression crossing his face. He hadn't realized Cleo actually liked Justin that much, truly, and shamefully, assuming she only brought him back as a safe option, not fully trusting him.

The clip switches to Kiara choosing Mattheo with a clearly dissatisfied expression, while Mattheo looked visibly disappointed right before Rima was shown smiling and genuinely happy with Brandon.

Then, your recoupling moment appeared, the screen showing Theo standing next to you, a smirk plastered across his face—"I’ve had my eye on her since we walked in, so I’m hoping I can leave a lasting impression, maybe get her to take me home with her.”

The camera cut to you ducking your head, smiling as Ariana called your name. You looked up, opening your mouth to speak—"It could be worse, but yeah, I’m excited to get to know Theodore. He’s been nothing but sweet to me."

In the audience, Rafe aggressively rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and groaning audibly at the sight of you smiling at Theo, damn near pouting as one of the guys nudged his shoulder.

The clip then transitioned to the boys' recoupling—John B seemed happy to be coupled up with Delaney, making an incredibly stupid joke to the camera about how she slightly resembled Sarah, a comment that was received with absolute silence and glares from the girls'. JJ was shown happy to be with Haja, stating he felt confident exploring a new connection since his chemistry with Kiara had faded. Pope was casual with Kaitlyn, Miles and Sofia seemed pleased, noting they found each other attractive, and Rafe was almost overly casual about his coupling with Winnie, indifferently stating she "seemed nice."

Next, it showed the Rodeo challenge, starting with the scene of Sarah roping in Brandon, planting a kiss on his lips, before giggling—"Sorry, Rima, he’s just too hot!"

John B let out a scoff in the audience, muttering under his breath. Sarah’s eyes darted towards her partner, dramatically rolling her eyes before muttering, “why the hell is he acting like he didn’t literally kiss someone?”

You all just shrugged, eyes glued to the screen as it now showed Kiara kissing Thomas, her confessional playing right after—"Kissing him was way better than I thought," 

At this, JJ threw a hand out, face twisting as he leaned over to John B, whispering. "The girls were ready to fuckin’ crucify me, but look at her."

The clip continued—showing Cleo kissing Justin, then you kissing Theo.

Rafe chewed the inside of his cheek, looking down at his shoes, unable to watch your lips on anyone else’s.

But the clip wasn't done. It showed Mattheo marching up to you during his turn, wrapping the rope around your wrists before winding them behind his own neck, forcing you into a kiss just before you effortlessly slipped right out of his poorly tied knot, holding your hands up, letting the loose rope fall to the ground. "You were never very good at that," your quipped sassily, pushing him off you and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

That clip made Rafe feel a bit better, pride bubbling in his chest as he let out a loud whistle. You rolled your eyes at him, but a small smile tugged at your lips.

The video quickly switched to the boys' turns at the Casa Amor Rodeo—showing John B kissing Delaney with an extremely questionable amount of passion. 

Sarah’s face went stone-cold, eyes narrowing as the clip continued rolling, showing JJ kissing Haja, Miles kissing Sofia, and Pope kissing Kaitlyn. Then came Rafe’s turn—he was shown kissing Haja quickly, keeping brief. However, during the Casa girls' turns, the clip revealed that both Winnie and Sofia had thrown themselves at Rafe, kissing him while he stood there looking entirely uncomfortable, his arms hovering at his sides.

You narrowed your eyes, muttering, "Damn, everyone wanted a piece of him, huh?"

Sarah leaned over, laughing at your jealousy, reassuring you, "Babe, he looks like a cardboard cutout standing there. Take a breath." You rolled your eyes, sighing.

The clips behind the door ended with the scenes revealing that you and Brandon had won the villa date, while John B and Delaney had won the Casa date.

And as the screen faded to black, the tension hadn't broken yet. The coin was tossed again, landing on Girls.

You all huddled for a moment, before deciding on a random door.

"Let's do Door Three," Sarah called out, a brief second of pause before the door swung open and the screen zoomed into the abyss before the title came across the screen—THE BOY WHO CRIED 'JUST ONCE'.

The clip opened with a scene of Sarah during Casa, pouting as she whined to the girls—"Guyssss, Thomas?! He looks so good, you guys, I hate it! But John B is literally with his ex right now. I’m losing my mind. Ugh." Then it cut to Sarah talking in the confessional booth—"Yeah, Thomas is a great guy. Really, I was the problem in our past relationship…kind of regret it now, though. Ugh, he’s hot!"

In the audience, John B let out a loud sigh, turning to the guys, but before he could even open his mouth to complain once more, the screen cut to Sarah again—"...It just came out that John B was in communication with his ex right before he came on the show?...I don’t know if there’s, like, some unresolved shit there."

Right after, almost as if to answer her worries, the movie shows a clip of John B and Kaitlyn having a private conversation on the Casa daybeds. John B was leaning in close, asking weird, loaded questions. "Do you... ever miss what we had? Like, do you miss our relationship? Would you ever be willing to try again?" Kaitlyn let out a loud laugh, waving her hand. "God, no. That ship has sailed." John B was shown letting out an incredibly nervous, high-pitched laugh, scratching his neck as he tried to play it off. "Yeah, yeah, totally. Me neither."

John B’s heart dropped into his hands, stiffening in his seat.

Sarah whipped her head around to the girls on the couch, eyes flashing with angry confusion. "...Am I crazy, or was he trying to shoot his shot at his ex-girlfriend on day one?"

"He definitely was," Cleo agreed, her jaw dropped. 

You nodded. "One hundred percent."

Sarah then whipped around, folding herself to glare at John B across the lawn. “Are you serious?” She criticizes, but John B makes no attempt to defend himself, scratching his forehead as the clips kept going.

It cut to John B and Delaney on their date after the Rodeo challenge. They were clearly flirting, all touchy-feely, and John B was clearly leading her on, holding her hand across the table and whispering compliments.

The video then transitioned back to the main villa, showing Sarah firmly telling the girls—"I don’t feel drawn to any of these Casa guys. None of them are doing it for me."

"Really? Not even a little bit?" your voice echoed from the screen.

"No, my head is completely with John B. I’m just playing the waiting game.” She shrugs, the screen showing another very brief clip of her saying, “I have trust in John B."

And almost as if to mock her, the video instantly cut back to Casa Amor, showing John B with Delaney on the daybeds, calling her sweet nicknames while she sat giggling like a schoolgirl before it flipped to the moment you and the girls received the video, Sarah’s face crumbling as she watched, whispering, "That’s fucking crazy." But then it showed Sarah the next day, sitting on the beanbags, sheepishly admitting to the girls—"I’m still holding out a bit of hope. I mean, I don’t know what happened during their full conversation, and it looked like they only shared kisses during challenges... I don’t want to completely throw away what we have over something I’m not even sure is anything bad."

It was sad to see Sarah be so loyal to her partner while he was clearly pillow talking to another girl just across the island. But Sarah, as well as the rest of the girls, figured that there was nothing to truly be upset with John be about, considering, as far as you all knew, he'd been completely transparent with Sarah about what he done over at Casa.

So, it was safe to say that the next clip had all of your jaws on the fucking floor.

The screen displayed the bathroom at Casa and, through the frosted glass of the shower, steaming pillowing above, you could see the distinct silhouettes of John B and Delaney. Gasps ran over the group. They were showering together. Their bodies pressed flush against each other, the sound of splashing water mixing with low, muffled giggles.

Sarah’s breath hitched. A tear instantly spilled over her eyelashes, her face turning an angry, volatile shade of crimson.

Immediately, outraged voices erupted from the left couch as the girls crowded around Sarah, rubbing her back. 

“That’s crazy,” Cleo spat, glaring daggers across the lawn. “And he’s sitting over there scoffing and making faces when he showered with another girl?!” 

You leaned in close, your jaw dropping. “Sarah, did he tell you about that?” 

Sarah shook her head frantically, fresh tears spilling over. “No! He didn't fucking tell me!”

The clip continued, showing the Temperatures Rising challenge, replaying Sarah doing the ‘suck’ task on Thomas, going crazy to get his heart rate up. But then it cut to John B's turn with Delaney where he was shown burying his face in Delaney's cleavage, aggressively sucking on the exposed skin, before sliding down to his knees and pressing his mouth tightly against the inside of her thighs, his hands gripping her hips tightly.

The video then showed with their most recent conversation that acted as the biggest blow to it all as, in the clip, John B and Sarah sat talking, him telling her,  "But it wasn’t anything serious—" John B's voice echoing as Sarah seethes. 

"I knew it."

"She was just... there, and—"

"Did you kiss her?" Sarah’s voice cut him off sharply from the screen. "Outside of a challenge. Did you?"

John B was shown hesitating for a fraction of a second, his eyes darting away guiltily before locking back onto hers. "...Yeah," he admitted on screen. "But only once. I swear, Sarah—"

You and the girls remained huddled around Sarah, who was breaking down, her shoulders shaking as she sat there sobbing. “He is such a liar,” Rima mumbled under her breath, her own face twisted in pure disgust. 

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “I’m...actually so disappointed in him.” 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the lawn, a low murmur broke out among the guys. The boys were leaning in close, whispering, and JJ and Pope nudged John B hard, “You should have jus' fuckin’ told her, man.”

The screen flashes to John B talking to the guys in the bathroom, running a hand through his hair. "Is it bad that I regret telling Sarah the truth? I feel like now she’s just trying to punish me for doing what we came here to do, which was exploring options." 

Hearing his words, Sarah snapped. She whipped her head around, shouting across the lawn directly at John B, “You didn't even tell me the fucking truth, so what the hell are you talking about?!” Before she could jump up though, you and Cleo grabbed her arms, pulling her back and murmuring soft words to calm her down. 

On the boys' couch, the guys quickly muttered to John B, telling him not to say a word back, warning him that it was in his best interest to just be quiet and ’let this shit play out’.

The bathroom scene continued playing. "I don’t understand why it matters so much anyway, because at the end of the day, I still came back to her. I chose her."

“That’s shallow as hell, and that is so not the point,” Cleo whispered harshly, her jaw clenched as she watched the screen.

The final blow came when the screen showed footage from the third night of Casa, revealing that John B didn't sleep outside. He was shown tucked under the covers, Delaney wrapped in his arms. They were cuddling, sharing multiple kisses in the pitch-black of the room. The audio even picked up John B pillow-talking her, his voice a low whisper—"I’m not gonna lie, there's a really good chance I might bring you back."

And then the screen faded to black.

And Sarah didn’t waste a second before jumping up from the couch, breaking free of the multiple arms that were comforting her, ears of rage and heartbreak streaming down her face. She turned on John B, her voice a piercing shriek, cracking.

"You’re a pathetic fucking liar, John B!" she screamed. "You slept in the bed with her?! You showered with her?! You were kissing her under the covers and telling her you were gonna bring her back, and you sat in front of me yesterday and swore you only kissed her once?!"

John B stood up, his hands shaking as he reached out. "It didn't matter! I didn't bring her back! I chose you—"

"And that’s supposed to make it better?!" Sarah yelled before she turned her fury onto the rest of the boys' couch, glare landing on JJ, Pope, and Rafe. "And all of you! You all sat there and watched him do it! Nobody said a fucking word to me! You let me sit here looking like a complete idiot!"

Almost immediately, the guys she singled out got offended. JJ, Pope, and Rafe all leaned forward, defending themselves. 

“Whoa, wait a minute, it wasn't our place!” JJ yelled back. 

Pope threw his hands up, shouting, “You think we didn't want to tell you?! Like, how do you think we felt? We didn't know what to do!” 

Rafe threw his hands up as well, muttering something that didn’t travel far enough to hear. 

Of course, the girls weren't about to let them slide, immediately arguing back in Sarah’s defense. “If it was any one of you, we would have told you!” you yelled across the gap, Cleo and Rima shouting in agreement. 

The guys scoffed and shook their heads, disagreeing, with JJ muttering that he didn't think that was true at all. 

The two couches went back and forth for a minute, voices overlapping, before everyone realized there was absolutely no point in the entire villa arguing when the main issue was strictly between Sarah and John B. Everyone gradually piped down, settling back into a tense silence to let Sarah and John B continue to hash things out.

She turned back to John B, wiping her eyes fiercely. "He keeps saying none of it matters because he didn't bring her back... well, you fucking should have because me and you are done!"

“Sarah—”

“Fucking done.” She spat one last time before plopping down into her seat, huffing and wiping at her eyes. “Someone flip the fucking coin so we can get this shit over with…” Kaitlyn stood from her seat, flipping the plastic coin, watching as it landed on Boys, them picking Door Number Four.

The door opened and the title faded in—KISS AND (DON’T) TELL. The clip opened on Rima talking, the rest of you gathered around—"And honestly, if not for the fact that we’re currently in a couple, I think Pope would stay well-behaved just because he wants to prove himself to Cleo.”

Cleo sat up straighter then, assuming this was her turn under the spotlight.

The screen then cut to Pope over at Casa, sitting on the daybeds with John B, looking incredibly troubled. "Man, I don’t know if it’s crazy to say but…I miss Cleo. Like, none of these Casa girls are doing anything for me. I’m just constantly worrying about her making a connection back at the villa. I’m just wondering if she’s keeping our talk in the back of her mind like I am."

The video transitioned back to the villa, showing Cleo expressing how she felt to Justin—"Pope is still just kind of there in the back of my mind. I’m trying to get him out, I really am, but we had this big conversation right before he left for Casa where he told me his feelings were with me. But... I just don’t know if he’ll actually stand on it.”

Next, it swipes to their post-Casa conversation on the daybeds, where Cleo and Justin were discussing where they stood.

"But... what about Pope?" Justin asked.

"I’m not gonna deny that a piece of me has always been with Pope because of our initial connection during the first couple weeks. I do... still have feelings there. But... I’m just not sure if I want to go forward with exploring them anymore after everything that happened…I just want to focus on us.”

Then it shows the glam room after the Boss Bitch challenge. You were leaning against the vanity, looking at Cleo. "What about you and Pope? I didn’t expect you to kiss him, to be honest."

"I only kissed him to see if the spark was still there... and unfortunately, it is." She groaned loudly. "And now I feel like I’ve just made things ten times harder for myself with Justin..."

In the audience, Justin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, face hardening as he muttered, playing with his hands. "What the fuck, bro..."

Immediately after, the screen showed Pope talking to the guys in the bathroom later that afternoon—"I was so worried after the recoupling that bringing Kaitlyn back was the wrong choice and that I’d ruined all my chances with Cleo. But honestly? The kiss today during the challenge... it gave me hope, man. I still felt that same spark we had when we first met. Just the simple fact that she chose to kiss me gives me hope that I can fix what I broke with her.”

After, the screen shows Pope pulling Cleo for a chat, them walking into Say Less, the cameras tracking them sitting incredibly close on the couch. The conversation faded out, replaced by footage of Justin back in the yard, pacing around, looking around as he muttered, "How long does it take to talk?..."

It then clips to Cleo returning as Justin walked up to her. "Y'all were gone for a minute," Justin noted, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her face. "...Your lip gloss is smudged.” He blinks. “Did you guys kiss?"

On screen, Cleo looked him dead in the eye and shook her head, answering unnaturally quick. "No. We just talked."

Unfortunately, the next scene cut back to the footage inside Say Less—showing Pope leaning in, his hands cupping Cleo’s face, before the two of them end up in a full-blown, clearly deeply passionate make-out session. And to make matters worse, between heavy breaths, they could clearly be heard whispering against each other’s lips, "I missed you."

Everyone gasped in unison as Pope resigned to burying his face into a pillow while Cleo dropped her head into her hands, looking upset and deeply ashamed of herself.

Justin broke the silence, turning to her, hurt. "You lied to my face.” He criticizes, voice trembling. “I gave you the opportunity to just be honest with me, and you looked me in the eye and lied."

Cleo pulled her hands away, her eyes tearing up. "Justin, I'm so sorry. I was just... I was so scared of losing you, and I panicked—"

"Yeah, well, you clearly didn't want to keep me either," Justin shot back, his voice bitter as he whipped his head toward Pope. "And you? That shit is crazy, bro—"

Pope didn't back down. Actually, he sat up, showing absolutely zero remorse. "I'm not going to apologize to you for going after what I want.” He says casually, though he is clearly slightly embarrassed. “I had a connection with Cleo long before you were even thought of. I broke it, and I've been trying to fix it."

"Okay, and I understand that, but it's about respect, man!" Justin shouted across the gap.

"Look, no offense, but my connection with Cleo means a hell of a lot more to me than your feelings." Pope snapped, eyes low. 

But before the argument could spiral any further, Rafe intervened, standing up to flip the coin, watching it land on Girls. After a brief huddle, you all picked Door Number Five.

The transitions followed as usual, the title flashing in bold letters—EX-FACTOR.

The video started immediately after the previous series of clips, showing the exact moment Cleo returned from her chat with Pope and lied to Justin. It showed Justin nodding before excusing himself and walking away, face twisted. Realizing Cleo had lied, Justin’s expression turned vindictive as he walked straight over to Rima. "Hey, can I pull you? I just need somebody to talk to.” He asks, and Rima nods as he leads her to the Speakeasy. The clip showed them entering the lounge and, at first, the conversation was perfectly normal. Justin was venting about Cleo, and Rima was listening. 

But then, the body language shifted. Justin slid closer to Rima on the couch, voice dropping. "I just... I miss when things were easy, Rima," Justin murmured, looking down at her lips. "Like what we had... it was real..." And you all watch with wide eyes as Justin leans in, pressing his lips against hers. And your jaws drop when Rima doesn't pull away. In fact, she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the exchange. It feels like the clip goes on for hours, watching them grope and grab at each other, tongues sliding against one another.

Cleo let out a loud, gasp, her jaw dropping as she whipped her head around to look at Rima, but Rima couldn't bring herself to look at Cleo, staring at her own lap.

The clip cuts to the end of their make-out, showing Rima cursing herself before sprinting out to find Rafe where he was sitting with you. That’s why she looked like that. The scene showed Rafe and Rima sitting on the pool chairs.

"Rafe, I fucked up so bad," Rima panicked on screen, burying her face in her hands. "And I'm sorry, I know you're getting things back on track with Y/N and I pulled you away from her but I literally cannot pull any of the girls, like they won't understand—”

“Rima, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about—

“I made out with Justin, just now, in the Speakeasy.” She cuts in with a harsh whisper, chewing on her nails. “And I feel so terrible because of Cleo, but... I think I might still be in love with him."

And then it was over.

Cleo turned on Justin, face stone. "Are you fucking kidding me?! You sat there and lectured me for about respect and honesty, and you literally walked straight into the Speakeasy and made out with your ex-girlfriend?!"

Justin, trying to justify his actions, raised his voice against hers. "Cleo, I only kissed Rima because of what you did! I knew you were lying to me!"

“Excuse me—” Rima reels back, but her voice gets lost to the wind.

"You didn't even know for sure!" Cleo screamed back, her chest heaving. "If I hadn't kissed him, if I had been telling the truth, how the hell would you feel right now? You assumed I did something, and you immediately ran to your ex in spite!" She gestured wildly between them. "And for the record, we are not closed off! And I have been completely transparent with you about the fact that I still have feelings for Pope!"

"But in our last conversation, you told me you wanted to focus on us!" Justin countered aggressively, swinging a hand between himself and Cleo to emphasize his words.

"I did want to focus on us!" Cleo argued. "But it didn't mean I was throwing Pope completely out the window!" She suddenly stopped, her eyes landing on Rima, who was sitting on the edge of the couch. Cleo’s voice dropped into a deeply hurt whisper. "And you... Rima, why didn't you say anything to me? You've been one of my closest friends in here. You were the one pushing me to explore things with Justin, telling me what a great guy he was... and the first chance you get, you're having a full-blown make-out session with him behind my back?"

Rima looked up, her eyes filled with tears, her voice defensive despite her apology. "Cleo, I am sorry. I really am.” She offers. “...But I don't think you have that much of a right to be upset right now. You kissed Pope right before that happened—"

"I've been honest about my feelings for Pope, you guys have been acting like you're completely over each other and you're ‘just friends’." Cleo counters, her voice echoing.

Pope immediately jumped into the argument, pointing a hand out at Justin. “Cleo has been upfront about us the entire time.”

“Yeah, up until tonight! What the hell are you talkin’ about, man?” Justin argued back.

“Me and Cleo never tried to play the ‘just friends’ card!”

“Neither did we!” Rima shook her head, tears welling as she tried to apologize again, though she stood firm on her stance. “I am sorry, Cleo, but it’s the truth!” 

Justin then interrupted, his face flushed and voice cracking because he was hurt, projecting a massive amount of that anger onto Pope rather than Cleo. “You need to stay out of this, Pope! You’re the one who disrespected what we had going on!” 

Before the clash between the two guys could spin out of control, the other guys rushed in, telling them all to chill out and just move on to the next video.

The screen flashes, forcing everyone to look back up as the next title showed—THE KING, THE QUEEN, AND THE PAWN.

The clip opened on JJ and Pope's private conversation the afternoon before Casa Amor. JJ was rubbing the back of his neck, looking troubled. "...I’m starting to feel kinda weird about Kie."

"Really? I thought you guys were, like, finally happy to test things out."

"That’s the thing, before we actually got coupled up, it felt like me and Kie had an insane amount of tension, bro…But now that we’re actually in a couple... it’s like all of our chemistry just faded into thin air…The spark is completely gone, and it just feels forced now.”

Your own face twisted as several girls muttered to each other, "If he had enough time to tell Pope how he felt about Kiara, why didn't he have the decency to tell Kiara?"

JJ overheard, turning to defend himself. "I had literally just realized it in that clip. What the hell are you guys talking about?"

"That’s not an excuse, JJ," you piped up from the couch. "You had more than enough time to speak to her. You were just scared. I’m sure she would’ve much rather you had been honest and her be hurt by the entire situation than you not telling her and her getting, I don't know, dumped from the fucking island because of it."

JJ tensed, shutting his mouth, unable to argue with you.

You scoffed, sitting back as the screen cut to a clip of Kiara talking to the camera in a confessional—"Honestly speaking, I felt like my best conversation was definitely with Thomas…I really do think I have a little bit of a crush on him. But... I don’t know if it’s actually worth risking my connection with JJ. Like, JJ and I have a vibe, I think anyway, but Thomas just feels... more into me…JJ is all charm and flirty, which is exciting, but it’s also terrifying because you never know if he’s going to burn you. Thomas looks at me like he actually wants to know my soul or something..."

JJ instantly interrupted , throwing his hands up, snapping before pointing at the screen. "See?! Why are all of you jumping on me when it's clear as day Kiara was already making another connection anyway?"

Before any of you girls could answer, the next clip rolled, showing Kiara on screen saying—"I want to have faith in JJ, I really do. But his track record is terrifying.” The screen then jump-cuts to Casa, showing JJ sweet-talking Haja on the daybeds before pulling her into a deep kiss.

All at once, the girls turned to JJ pointing at the screen. "That's why."

The clip continued, showing Kiara on screen again—"I just... I don’t know. JJ and I have a connection. But I’m just so terrified that the moment my back is turned, he’s going to revert right back to his old ways.” And, like a slap in the face, the video showed the Casa Amor bedroom in night-vision. JJ and Haja were in bed, the audio picking up unmistakable soft moans, heavy breathing, and the violent movement of the duvet covers. JJ’s voice could clearly be heard whispering raspy compliments as the sheet shifted, subtitles at the bottom of the screen only making matters worse— “you feel so good”, “don’t wake anyone up”, “fuck, i’m close”—making it abundantly clear to the entire villa what had happened.

The girls' jaws dropped in shock, a collective gasp echoing through the lawn.

"...Oh my god," you muttered, eyes wide. The boys looked down, they had been in the room, they knew, so they weren't surprised, but seeing the raw footage on the giant screen made it much more real.

The clip quickly switched to showing Kiara's reaction to receiving the video from Casa, her eyes tearing up as she watched JJ make out with Haja, followed by a brief clip of Kiara sharing a sad, comforting kiss with Thomas.

The screen showed JJ talking to the guys recently—"And I don’t know if Haja is actually here for me, man. I think she’s super sexy and confident, and I love that about her. But I’m starting to think she’s just using me as some kind of piece in her game to make Miles mad..."

Haja immediately got offended by the comment, snapping her head toward JJ. “How the fuck can you even say that when a clip of us literally fucking was just shown?!” she yelled, her eyes flashing.

The screen then cut to Haja sitting with you all out on the beanbags as she spoke directly to you—"And when I say that man is manipulative? I mean, you experienced it first hand from what I saw. When Miles said that stuff to you? About Rafe? He used to do shit like that all the time to me. It’s the same move he pulled to get me away from the boyfriend I had before him.”

What followed was a heart-stopping montage that completely exposed Haja and Miles, revealing that from the literal first day of Casa Amor, they had been secretly sneaking around behind everyone's backs. It showed them pulling each other into hidden corners of the Casa villa, making out until they ran themselves breathless. Their confessionals played back-to-back, with both of them admitting how desperately they missed each other.

It cut to a clip showing Haja looking furious during the Raunchy Races challenge, when Sofia and Miles completed a task together, revealing that her bitterness was what ignited their toxic cycle all over again. Even though they were actively pretending to be rivals in front of the other Islanders, the footage exposed the reality. It showed them kissing passionately in dark corners, it showed them secretly showering together and exiting the bathroom and just nearly getting caught by everyone, and it showed multiple clips of Miles passing Haja in the kitchen, casually giving her butt a firm squeeze when nobody was looking before the screen faded out.

And almost everyone was furious. Not only were the girls still furious at JJ for doing Kiara dirty, but it was now abundantly clear that he had done it for absolutely no reason, seeing as Haja had seemingly used him as a golden ticket into the villa just to continue whatever weird thrill-ship she had with Miles.

"Are you serious, JJ?" Sarah yelled. "Look where your dick got you! You couldn't wait to get your dick wet, and you got played!"

John B jumped in to defend JJ, throwing his hands out. “It’s not his fault he made another connection! He didn't do anything wrong!” 

Sarah immediately whipped her head around, her eyes practically shooting fire as she pointed at him. “John B, you shut up!” she screamed, still furious with him. “Of course you would sit over there and defend him!”

But in the midst of the fire, some of you turned your fury onto Haja. Despite your own grudges against JJ at the moment, you still cared about him and you knew he wouldn't have brought Haja back if he didn't actually like her. So, to know that she was playing in his face the entire time? It kind of enraged you a little bit. "Haja, what the hell?" you hissed. "I mean, you make it seem like you hate Miles’ guts but you're letting him grab your ass in the kitchen and y'all are showering together? What happened to all that stuff you said about him being manipulative?”

Haja scoffed, snarling. "I don't have to explain shit to any of you,” She defends herself. “This is Love Island. I’m allowed to explore whoever I want!"

"Oh please, you knew you were wrong!" Sarah yelled. "Otherwise, why the hell were you sneaking around?"

"We weren't sneaking around on anyone!" Haja screamed back, her voice pitchy. "Me and JJ aren't closed off! And Miles and Sofia don't even actually like each other, so it doesn't even matter!"

You snapped, pointing a finger at Haja. "If that was how you actually felt, Haja, then you should have had the fucking decency to be upfront about it! JJ had actual feelings for you! If you wanted to keep messing with your ex, you should have stayed outside the villa!"

Haja scoffed, her eyes flashing. "Why do you even care so much?! Weren't all of you just screaming at him five minutes ago for getting your friend dumped?"

"Yeah, we were!" Rima yelled right back, matching her volume entirely. "But the only reason Kiara got dumped was because JJ brought you back here thinking he had a real connection, and you’re using him! We’re not justifying anything JJ did, but you and Miles are far from being in the right either!"

Haja went wild, gesturing wildly. "Okay, then if you're gonna get on my case, you need to get on Miles', too!"

"We already knew Miles was a piece of shit, we're not concerned about him!" You threw out from the couch.

Miles leaned forward on the couch, tossing his hands up lazily as a smirk spread across his face. “Whoa, back up. I don’t know why you’re opening your mouth to call me a piece of shit when the only reason me and you have an issue is because I told you the truth but your guard dog didn’t like it,” he said smoothly, throwing immediate shade your way. 

Rafe went rigid, his eyes flaring as he surged forward in his seat. “Don’t talk to her like that,”

"Exactly! Mind your own goddamn business and shut up, Y/N!" Haja hissed directly at you.

Instantly, JJ stood up for you, yelling at Haja, and Rafe’s face twisted in anger as he continued defending you to Miles. "Don't fuckin’ tell her to shut up!" 

The lawn devolved into a zoo of screaming, chest-puffing, and volatile insults. 

“She can speak whenever she wants!” JJ barked across the lawn at Haja, his veins popping from his neck. 

Cleo and Sarah were screaming over them, pointing fingers, while Miles and Rafe were still going at it. The shouting match escalated into complete bedlam, with both couches on their feet, yelling over one another until the volume was deafening. 

The hostility hung in the air, a mess of overlapping threats and defensive cries that only began to settle when a blinding flash from the screen pulled everyone's attention backward.

The screen flashed, forcing the next door open, the title showing up in massive letters—MISDIAGNOSED MAIN CHARACTER SYNDROME.

The clip opened on Sofia’s very first confessional from the day she entered Casa Amor, smirking arrogantly— "I really, really miss what Rafe and I had… and I know for a fact that deep down, he still cares about me. I know he thinks he’s building this new connection with... uh, I completely forgot her name.But I know him. He just needs a little... reminder of what we used to be.”

You let out a dramatic roll of your eyes, turning to Cleo and Rima. "She’s so childish, my god. Was that supposed to be a diss?" You taunt, voice rising loud enough to be heard as Sofia remains silent, rolling her eyes.

"That bitch knew your name," Cleo scoffed loudly. "She’s obsessed with you, there’s no way she didn't."

The clip goes on, revealing a conversation between Miles and Sofia on the last day of Casa—"Why don't I just bring you back to the villa? It'll completely torture Haja, considering she thinks she's doing something by running around with JJ, and honestly, me and Rafe aren't friends by any means, so any chance to fuck with him is a chance I'll take. I say fuck it. Let's stir some shit up."

From his seat, Rafe whipped his head toward Miles, his blue eyes filled with irritation. "You’re actually a bitch," Rafe spat, his voice dropping into a harsh growl. Miles just smirked, looking away.

The clip continued, showing a montage of Miles and Sofia sitting around the villa over the past two days, actively making fun of you—whispering and pointing while you were minding your business, plotting ways to intentionally piss off you, Rafe, and Haja, saying mean, spiteful things before laughing hysterically together like the pair of villains they clearly are.

The girls moved closer to you on the couch, Cleo and Sarah reaching over to rub your shoulders and squeeze your arm comfortingly. “You alright?" She asked softly, trying to catch your gaze, but you had this thousnad-yard-stare going on. "...Don’t even think about it, they’re just bored and miserable,” Sarah murmured softly, her eyes full of concern. 

Cleo glared at the screen, adding, “They’re so weird for that.” 

You just weakly shrugged their hands off, looking away as you muttered, “I’m fine, seriously.” But they could all clearly see the truth—your foot was hammering against the grass, your jaw tight, irritated and angry to the point of tears.

The rest of the Islanders looked visibly disgusted. The girls were glaring at Sofia, and JJ muttered, "That’s fucked. Y/N was going through so much at the time, and they’re just fuckin’ laughin’ at her..." 

Rafe’s hands were shaking with rage, jaw clenched so tight it looked ready to break as he watched them mock you. He had so much he wanted to say, so many people he wanted to punch, but he was simmering so deeply in his own rage that he got caught up in his own violent thoughts, jaw ticking as his leg bounced relentlessly.

The video then replayed the scene on the daybeds, Sofia and Miles talking casually when, Rafe walked past them from one direction and Haja walked past from the other, quickly glancing at them both before jumping on each other, Miles wrapping his arm tightly around her waist as Sofia leaned in, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips, their immediate whispering right after they pulled apart…

"Did he see?" Sofia whispered eagerly.

"Yeah, he saw," Miles laughed maliciously, lying through his teeth just to feed his own ego and hers. "Haja looked pissed too."

The screen then transitioned to the dressing room from last night, showing the confrontation between you and Sofia, her venomous tone echoing.

“...I know we don’t talk much, but I just want to get something out there before you start making a fool of yourself. I think that going after Rafe is a complete waste of your time. I don’t know what kind of little romantic fairytale he’s trying to sell you, or what lies he’s whispering in your ear... but that’s all it is. Lies…The only reason you and Rafe even have a ‘relationship’ right now is because of this show. But outside of this? Trust me, you wouldn’t last a single second with the real Rafe. You don’t know him like I do…”

The screen showed you completely unmoved by her words. You let a slow, unamused smile pull at the corners of your lips as you stood up from your vanity chair, glaring over at her. “Are you done?”

“...Wh—”

“I hear what you’re saying about being ’first’, but from where I’m standing? Being first clearly doesn’t mean anything. If it did, you wouldn’t be here. You can call me temporary all you want, you can keep glaring at me every chance you get, you can keep trying to embarrass me, but at least I’m not desperate, going through all of this trouble for a man who won’t even look at me twice. You’re the only one fighting his feelings for me, thinking it’ll change his feelings for you, I’m assuming. It won’t.”

Rafe instantly sat up straight, his eyes wide as he looked over at you. "Y/N, when did she say that to you?"

Before you could answer, Sofia jumped in snappily, "Why do you even care, Rafe?"

“I’m not talkin’ to you.” Rafe dismissed, a snarl on his lips as he dismissed the girl.

You also bypassed Sofia, looking directly at Rafe. "Last night, right after we got back from our date." Rafe’s eyes flared with pure anger as he glared at Sofia, shaking his head. He’d wait until this was over to really speak his mind.

The clip continued, showing Sofia pulling Kaitlyn and Haja for a private chat earlier today, pouring her heart out about how she didn't understand why Rafe was so different with you, crying about how she spent her entire relationship cleaning up his messes— “I just don't get it, like I was there for everything, and he put me through hell. I was the one who stood by him whenever he crashed his fucking car and took him home. I was the one who bailed him out of jail every fucking time. I was the one who drove him home when he was drunk off his ass and probably fucking high, but apparently none of that fucking matters to him, all because of this random bitch.”

But apparently the girls weren't fond of the first time Sofia pulling them and attempting to have a conversation being when she needs someone to vent to, and Kaitlyn is the first to put her foot down — “I'm sorry, I just find it very odd that you don't make any attempt to speak to us…but all of a sudden when you need a shoulder to cry on, you pull us aside like we're friends. To be honest, I don't give a shit about anything you just said. I've been here for two days and those girls have made me feel more welcome than you have in the week that I've known you. I think Y/N is a good person and you're just bitter that your ex has…what? Evolved as a person? I'm sorry, but that's crazy to me…”

Then came the final morning clip. 

It showed Sofia pulling Theo for as he entered the kitchen, pulling out pans and tools—"I just thought you should know, I overheard Y/N in the dressing room last night after her date with Rafe. She was telling the girls that, at the end of the day, she was using you as a safe option, and she would choose Rafe over you in a heartbeat without a second thought. And she basically said that, like, during her date with Rafe, she realized how much she regrets bringing you back here and she said that she should have never chosen you. I don't know what you know about the whole situation that's going on, but I'm just coming to you as a person. I don't think anyone deserves to be used."

Then, that was the end of it.

And you had officially reached your absolute breaking point. A scarily calm air settled over you as you, turned your gaze onto Sofia.

“...I have tried my best to just ignore you and your bullshit. At first, I kept telling myself that I had absolutely no reason to have an issue with you, that it was Rafe’s fault and not yours. But it's clear that your entire existence revolves around me, so here, I'm giving you the attention you want so bad, because it seems, at this point, that you might want my attention more than you want Rafe’s.” You throw out, clasping your hands together, tone biting. “So, please, tell me what the fuck your purpose was in telling Theo that load of bullshit?"

Sofia tried to play innocent, shrugging her shoulders. "I felt like he deserved to know the truth, considering you're coupled up with him and lying—"

You put a hand up. “I’m gonna stop you right there.” You pointed a finger at your chest. “I'm coupled up with Theo. Exactly. Not you." you hissed, your composure snapping. "You went out of your way to tell him something, and you made it seem ten times worse than what it actually was! Half of that shit you told him, I never even fucking said!" You leaned closer, your eyes burning. "And then to make matters worse, you're doing all of this over a guy who doesn't even like you anymore—"

“That's what he told you!” Sofia snapped. "He still loves me! I know him a million times better than you do! You think after three weeks of knowing this man that you know who he really is?! You think he's actually going to pick a girl like you over me?!"

“A girl like me?” Your neck reeled back. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Sofia let out a sharp, nasty laugh, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared directly at you. “Please, let’s be real here. A girl who literally used to flaunt half-naked for money isn't exactly the type a guy like Rafe brings home long-term. Let’s not forget where you came from...” 

At her words, your vision tunneled with rage. “Bitch—” you hissed, throwing your weight forward as you tried to fly off the couch to tear into her, but Sarah, Cleo, and Rima threw their arms around your waist and shoulders, tugging you back down into your seat before you could make a mistake.

Rafe groaned from his spot on the couch, his voice was terrifying, echoing. "I already did!" Rafe screamed at Sofia, his face flushed. "I already did pick her over you! I keep picking her over you every single fucking day, and it doesn't seem to get through your head!" He seethes, two fingers jamming into his temple

Rafe went off on her, reading her for filth. "I wish you had never come here. I wish we had never met, and I really wish we had never fucking dated! I have spent the last year of my life trying to build myself up, and I just want to leave that version of myself and our relationship in the past, but you refuse to let it go!"

He threw his hands down. "I was a terrible person when we were together, Sofia! We had fifty times more bad days than we ever had good ones! So why the fuck do you crave being with me so bad?! I don't want that relationship anymore, and I don't want you!"

Sofia was sobbing violently now, shaking her head in denial. "You don't mean that—"

"I do," Rafe huffed, his voice cold. "You can't stand the fact that I was the one who ended it, Sofia. That’s all this is—"

"What does she have that I don't?!" Sofia shrieked, pointing a shaking finger directly at you as tears streamed down her face. 

Rafe sighed. “You don’t want me to answer that—”

"Why are you so willing to be a good person for her, Rafe?! Why not for me?!"

Rafe stopped, looking back at you for a fraction of a second, his expression softening before he turned back to Sofia. "...I just know that she’s different. She makes me want to be better."

"You're so obsessed with this whole ‘trying to be a better person’, Rafe, but you never will be!" Sofia spat venomously through her tears. "I know who you really are! She doesn't! That's love, not whatever fake shit you have with her!"

In the midst of their argument, completely done arguing with Sofia’s delusion, you turned your anger directly onto Theo, who was still sitting silently on the couch.

"And you," you hissed, walking up to him. "Is this why you've been acting like an asshole to me all day? Because of something a girl who literally hates my guts said to you this morning?"

Theo shrugged casually, his expression cold and indifferent. "I mean, clearly it was true, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"It’s not true.” You deadpan. “That is not what I said!"

"So you didn't say you would choose Rafe at the end of the day?" Theo cut you off sharply, standing up.

"I did!" you argued fiercely. "But all of that extra stuff she added, I never said it! All they asked me was ‘Theo or Rafe’, and I just said ‘Rafe’. And I fully planned on pulling you today to be open and honest with you about exactly where my head was at, just like I have been the entire time, but when I asked you to talk, you literally looked me in the eye and said no—"

"I don't care about the extra stuff, Y/N!" Theo shouted back, his voice rising in aggression as he stepped up. "I care about the fact that you sat there and said you'd choose him over me!"

“You knew there was a chance of that happening!”

Rafe, noticing how close Theo was to you and the lack of intervention, turned away from Sofia mid argument and shoved his way between you and Theo, his face twisted. "Why are you in her face?"

"Tell your boyfriend to fuck off," Theo snapped aggressively, ducking around Rafe’s head to glare at you.

“Oh, fuck you,” you mused, throwing a hand out. “Maybe you need to argue with a man.”

“Step back,” Rafe growled, his chest pressing against Theo's as the two of them locked eyes. 

Theo sneered, stepping up even closer. “You think you scare me? How blind are you to not see that she played both of us, and you're over here acting like a lapdog!” 

You threw your hands up between them. “Theo, you knew from day one where my head was, so don't act dumb now!” 

In the background, Sofia was sobbing, shaking her fists and screaming, “Fuck you, Rafe! Screw you!” but nobody was paying her a single ounce of attention. 

Before the tension between Rafe and Theo could erupt, all of the boys rushed forward, shoving themselves between the two guys, while the rest of the Islanders crowded around to break it all up. 

JJ clapped Rafe on the shoulder, pulling him back. “Chill out, man, c’mon. We still have other clips to get to. We’ll have more than enough time to talk through all this shit after it's done.” 

Muttering curses under their breaths, everyone reluctantly backed away, sitting back down to watch the final door open.

The final title illuminated the screen—LOVE SQUARED.

The clip opened on the morning the guys were whisked away to Casa Amor, showing you fast asleep in the bed. Rafe was shown quietly leaning over you, gently pressing a lingering, tender kiss to your cheek before whispering softly into your ear—"I’ll miss you, angel. Sleep well."

In your seat, your heart completely melted, the residual anger dying out. You hadn't known he did that. Your eyes locked with Rafe’s across the lawn as he shot you a soft, boyish grin, ducking his head as his cheeks grew red.

The screen cut to a conversation between you and Theo on day one of Casa.

“How’s the relationship with...” Theo asked.

“Rafe,” you nodded on screen.

“Yes, Rafe,”.

“Good,” you smiled widely. “Better. I think we were getting back to normal, to something solid, before...”

“Solid can crack. And I like a challenge, piccola.”

In the audience, Rafe proudly smirked at your loyalty, but he threw a dangerous side-eye directly at Theo for his comment.

Then, it cuts to Casa, showing Winnie coming onto Rafe strong by the daybeds, asking about his connection with you. Rafe was sitting back as he spoke —"I miss Y/N already. I don’t mind talking to you, on some like cool shit, but I really don't want you talking about her or our connection."

Your cheeks flushed warm, flattered and proud of him for keeping his composure and defending your connection so calmly. Sarah leaned over, nudging your shoulder. "At least your man was over there holding it down and defending you, babe."

The screen moves to you in the bedroom before bed, flipping over onto your back as you clutched Rafe’s pillow tightly to your chest, whining to the girls—“My shaylaaaa... I can still smell his cologne on the sheets. Seriously though... do you think he’s sleeping alone tonight? Like... what do you think is happening at Casa?”

“Girl, please. They couldn’t tear you two apart if they tried. You and Rafe are completely inseparable. He’s probably losing his mind right now wishing he was here with you.”

“Seriously, Rafe looks at you like you’re the only woman left on earth. Have some faith, babe.”

Rafe’s face lit up with a genuinely adorable smile, his heart swelling at the sight of you missing him so much.

Next, it showed Rafe at Casa Amor before bed, a pillow tucked under his arm as he prepared to walk out to the daybeds. He was talking to the guys, looking miserable—"I can’t wait for this shit to be over. I keep getting phantom whiffs of her perfume…and I miss the smell of her body wash when we cuddle." JJ was shown clapping him on the back. "You don’t got shit to worry about, bro. If anyone is sailing smooth, it’s you two."

The video then shows a montage of Rafe’s absolute despair at Casa—the guys catching him staring blankly out at the water for hours, catching him tracing his fingers over the last hickey you had given him before he left, stressing out over what might be happening back at the villa.

Then, the video switched to Theo, showing him talking to Brandon and Thomas in the Casa kitchen—"Yeah, I had interest in Sarah and Y/N at first. But since Sarah shot me down, I’m just focusing all my energy on Y/N." The wording made it seem that he had settled for you. And you didn’t like that at all.

The girls on the couch exchanged fast, suspicious looks, whispering loudly. "That’s crazy," Sarah muttered. 

You nodded, your jaw tensed. "Yeah."

The next clip to be replayed was you telling Theo,“I want to be completely honest with you. I am not entirely open. Rafe and I aren’t closed off, but... he means a lot to me.”

Then came the aftermath of the Rodeo challenge where Theo was shown talking to the Casa guys, admitting he wasn't worried about you and Brandon going on a date, before making a shady, offhand comment—"Honestly, she’s still completely hung up on Rafe, so I’m used to it. A date is nothing compared to hearing her talk about a guy that isn’t even in this villa all day. Worst case scenario, there are other options."

The girls gasped as you bounced your foot, tongue prodding the inside of your cheek as you scoffed, shooting a sharp look Theo’s way.

Just then, the screen showed your date with Brandon—”I won’t lie and say I’m feeling one hundred percent relaxed right now... But I want to try with Rafe. He’s the only one I want, and I’m just praying he’s holding it down over there.” Brandon then asked about Theo, and you shrugged lazily. “I mean, I can’t deny that he’s a pretty good-looking guy, but he seems kind of closed off and quiet. I’ve already spent weeks breaking down the walls of one closed-off guy, so even if I was open, I’m pretty damn sure I don’t want to do that all over again. I don’t plan to.”

The video showed a fast montage of you repeatedly telling the girls you were completely loyal to Rafe, that you were willing to withstand the mosquitoes on the daybeds just to respect him, and that you were praying he was doing the same.

Then came Sofia’s Casa clip, scoffing to the girls as she patted her makeup into her skin—"I don’t care about Y/N. She's just Rafe's little temporary plaything." 

“Bitch.” You snarl, clenching your fists, furious.

The screen then cuts to Theo asking you for a kiss, and you turning him down gently—“Theo... you are an incredible guy, truly you are, but... I just can’t. My head is still so wrapped up in Rafe, and I need to respect that connection. I’m sorry.”

Then it finally played your breakdown after receiving the video from Casa, and here you were silently hoping you wouldn’t have to relive that—the movie showing you crying and storming around the villa, tears streaming down your face as you shouted violently at Mattheo when he tried to slide in and comfort you, and then—“AND FUCK RAFE, TOO!” It replayed Rafe hearing your scream all the way across the island at Casa, bolting upright, face paling then flushing red. “Was that her?”

Unfortunately, awkwardly, the clip showed Theo comforting you in the Say Less lounge right after, followed by your tearful confessional—“I’m just so tired of being the girl that guys get away with hurting... Like they tell me all this bullshit, smile in my face, just to show me their true colors when I’ve already... fallen in...”

Even worse, it showed that, after that specific incident, was the first time you shared a bed with Theo.

In the audience, Theo let out a bitter, low mumble in Justin’s direction. "See? She didn’t want anything to do with me until she got that video, and then she was all over me. But I’m supposed to believe she didn’t bring me back in spite…”

"Can you like stop?" you shot at him, voice loud enough. "I didn’t bring you back out of spite, I did like you, and at the time, I was convinced that the person I was with was disrespecting me. So yeah, I got more open after the video confirmed it." You scoffed, shaking your head and leaning back.

“He’s just pissed, don’t pay attention to him.” Kaitlyn comforted from where she was sat as the screen projected the thing you’d been dreading yet also anticipating— the full context of the kiss between Rafe and Sofia.

It started showing the part of the conversation you’d already seen, Rafe aggressively chewing Sofia out for continuously using challenges as opportunities to kiss him, despite his repeated rejection, before it continued, causing you to sit up straighter, unaware of Rafe’s hopeful gaze glued to the side of your face.

“You know you miss me,” Sofia whispered on screen.

Rafe let out an exhausted sigh. “I do miss you, Sofia…I miss who I thought you were.” He seethed. “But I know for a fact now that that person isn't real, and she never was. I don’t miss you. And I don’t want you—”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re mad,” Sofia cut him off, throwing his words to the wind. “I still love you, Rafe—”

“I don’t love you.” Rafe gritted out. “I don’t know if I ever even did. You need to let what we had go, Sofia. I can’t make myself any more clear—” She cut off his refusal by launching herself at him for a kiss, Rafe instantly shoving her back and away from him with the deepest scowl you’d ever seen, before glaring at her for three long seconds and walking straight away to find the guys, gnawing the inside of his cheek.

Watching the full clip play out, realization hit you, overtaking you with guilt. He hadn't done a single thing. He had rejected her. 

“Oh my god... I'm the worst person ever,” you mumbled to yourself, voice trembling as your eyes locked with Rafe's across the lawn. Rafe could tell by the look on your face that you were about to break down. He softly caught your gaze, gently mouthing across the gap, “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m not mad.” 

The girls crowded around you, trying to rub your back and offer comfort, but it wasn't working at all. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you started crying anyway, completely hiding your face in your hands. 

Seeing you like that, Rafe walked right over to the girls' couch, pulling you tightly into his chest as the girls made space for him, hiding your face against his shirt from everyone else as the two of you sat closely together on the far end of the couch. While he held you, your girls—Rima, Cleo, and Sarah—turned their fury onto Sofia, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch. “Do you not feel embarrassed watching that back?’ Sarah barked across the line of people. 

Sofia didn’t seem to care at all, tossing her head back and standing on exactly what she had said. “Why would I?” She scoffed. 

Cleo pointed at where Rafe was holding you. “Even as he’s literally sitting right here comforting someone who isn’t you?” She throws out judgmentally. “You look delusional.” 

The clip then showed Rima asking you the next day—“Does what you saw make you a bit more open to exploring Theo?” and you responding, “Hell yeah, it makes me more open.”

Theo, on the boy’s couch, continued mumbling under his breath, slouched in his seat now. 

The clip then transitioned to the Temperatures Rising challenge, with you during your turn with Theo, snapping his underwear waistband with your teeth. Then it showed Rafe’s turn at Casa, the man getting so visibly upset and distracted watching the girl’s meter skyrocket that he checked out of the game, causing the boys to lose the round.

It showed you and Theo kissing on the daybeds, for the first time outside a challenge, then kissing in bed that night. And though Rafe’s jaw tensed at the sight, his hold on you never faltered. Then it cut to you crying on the beanbags with Sarah, expressing your confusion about Rafe and fear of dragging Theo along if you were just gonna run back to him.

It was just clip after clip, the next one showing Rafe back at Casa. He was sleeping outside on the daybeds, entirely alone, holding his phone, scrolling through pictures of you and him from the first two weeks, and he groaned, clicking the phone off, and throwing the blanket over his head, the sound of him crying silently under the covers traveling lightly through the speakers.

Your heart broke into a million pieces as you looked up at Rafe, your eyes flooding with tears.

The next clip was much more recent, showing Theo pressing you after your date with Rafe—“I’m worried that if he’s telling the truth, you’ll choose him over me.”

Then it was Rafe crying to the guys in the bathroom—“Seeing her kiss Theo up close? Fuck that, I could’ve hurled. I still haven't eaten... I don't give a fuck about Sofia, man. I miss Y/N so fucking much, shit's driving me completely out of my mind.” JJ was shown then telling him, "For our own sanity, we gotta get you two back together."

It showed your hushed argument and near-kiss in the kitchen, Sofia interrupting, and Rafe immediately chewing Sofia out right after, telling her he hadn't thought about her in months and to stop trying to ruin his life. “Well, now that she’s finally gone,” Sofia started on screen, shifting her weight from side to side with a smug, arrogant grin plastered on her lips. “We can actually finish what we started.” Rafe’s expression completely shifted into something dark as he turned on her. He stepped directly into her personal space, his tone blunt and harsh, delivering what seemed to be his final warning. “Sofia, I need you to hear me when I say this. I haven't thought about you in months, and I need you to get it through your thick fucking skull that you mean nothing to me now. Stay the fuck away from me. From us.” He didn't even wait for a response before walking away, leaving her standing there, shocked.

It showed you and Rima talking, you mumbling, “Theo is exactly the kind of guy a girl should want…”, and Rima telling you”But he’s not the guy you want.”

Then came the beach date from yesterday, showing Rafe kneeling in front of you, crying into your lap, and you telling him,“...What I have with Theo... it is nowhere near touching what you and I had. He’s great, and he’s sweet, but... he’s not you. And I feel like such a bitch for putting him in the middle of all this.”

Finally, the clips concluded with the dressing room conversation from last night.

“If it turns out Rafe is telling the truth—who are you choosing?” Rima asked on screen. “Rafe or Theo? Don’t think, just answer—”

“Rafe.” you answered instantly. “...I would choose Rafe.”

And then the screen went black.

You were the first to speak, of course, turning in Rafe’s arm to glare at Theo, voice still a bit shaky from crying as you threw a hand out towards the now blank screen. "I just want to point out that, as you can see, I didn't say any of that extra shit this bitch told you.”

“Excuse me—” Sofia tried to cut in, but you kept talking.

“All I said was that at the end of the day, I would choose Rafe."

"And you didn't have the fucking decency to tell me that." Theo criticized, his face red. 

“How could I? She got to you first—”

"We share a bed, so don’t try that.” Theo stopped you. “You didn't think to mention to me that you'd already chosen him?!"

"I didn't think that was the best fucking time to bring it up!” Your own voice raised. “And what about you?! What did you mean by saying "she’s still completely hung up on Rafe, so I’m used to it. A date is nothing compared to hearing her talk about a guy that isn’t even in this villa all day. Worst case scenario, there are other options"?” You mocked, tilting your head. “You basically admitted I was just an option after Sarah shut you down! Like you settled for me!"

"You want to talk about settling?!" Theo roared, leaning forward where he was sitting, eyes wide. "You've been stringing me along for days, telling all your friends that you'd choose Rafe over me, when I came to you and told you how terrified I was of you doing exactly that!"

"I understand that, and I’m sorry!" you argued, your voice cracking as tears of frustration spilled over. "I tried my best to comfort you in that moment, but you were far from oblivious, Theo! You knew that I was stuck between you and him! You're trying to play the victim right now, as if we haven't had multiple conversations where I have been entirely transparent with you about the fact that I was confused!" You gestured back toward Rafe. "During our date, I told Rafe the exact same thing!"

"Yeah, but you knew who you liked more, Y/N! That’s the fucking issue!" Theo screamed over, standing up now. Rafe didn’t like that.

Rafe gently let his arms unwind from around you, standing up, his frame blocking Theo from you. "What are you standing up for?"

"Rafe—" you sighed, tugging on his arm but he barely moved, him and Theo glaring each other down. 

“What’re you, her fucking bodyguard?” Theo hissed. “What the fuck’re you gonna do?”

And Rafe just smirked, huffing as he laughed under his breath while the girls jumped off the couch, crowding around in front of you as well, screaming at Theo. 

"She was honest the whole time!" Sarah yelled at Theo through her own tears, still upset. "And it’s so unfair for you to act like you had absolutely no idea she had stronger feelings for Rafe!"

You stood then, too many people in your way. "And she’s right because you literally fucking said that!” You reprimand, hands moving wildly. "Or are you gonna act like you don't remember saying that, too?!”

“So what?!”

Your face twisted at his words, neck reeling back. “What the hell do you mean ‘so what’—”

“You still fucking lied!”

The original boys—JJ, Pope, and John B—then shot up as well, backing Rafe up as he opened his mouth to speak before they beat him to it, trying to also calm everyone down. "Okay, look, we’ve watched these two for weeks, man," JJ pointed at Theo. "We knew that, for her to switch up, something crazy bad had to have happened. So, don't sit here and paint her as a villain—"

Suddenly, Sofia inserted herself into the circle, scoffing loudly as she also stood up from her place. "Oh, please!” She threw her arms up. “Why are you all treating her like some kind of princess or little baby?! She’s a grown woman! She needs to be able to make her own decisions, speak for herself, and settle for one guy instead of crying about everything!"

You whipped your head around, your eyes flashing with uncontainable anger now. "Oh my god, shut the fuck up!” You took a step in her direction. “You shouldn’t even be talking, bitch!"

That comment struck a nerve as she and you started going at it violently, screaming insults back and forth, getting closer by the second, each insult seeming to come with two steps forward, while the girls and the guys were getting in each other's faces around you, trying to keep Rafe and Theo apart as they also seemed to start gaining on each other.

Movie Night had spiraled out of control, much worse than the first. People were pushing against each other, voices cracking, chests puffing, and for the first time in this experience with you all, the production crew suddenly rushed out from the villa walls, stepping between everyone, specifically grabbing Rafe and Theo by the shoulders, pulling you and Sofia apart, and forcing everyone into separate corners of the yard.

YOU stormed away, angry tears streaming violently down your face. You hated drama, you hated feeling like shit, and you absolutely loathed how Theo had just tried to paint you as some kind of malicious, deceptive villain in front of the entire villa when you had spent the last week losing sleep, trying to be as honest and transparent as possible.

You swiftly walked away from the garden, heading toward the terrace as Sarah, Cleo, and Rima immediately followed you, crowding around you.

"Babe, it's okay," Sarah soothed, wiping her own eyes. "Screw him. Screw all of them.” 

Rima rubbed a hand up and down your back as the four of you walked up the stairs. “He’s just pissed because he thought you were gonna pick him at the end, and now it's not going his way."

"Exactly," Cleo added. "He was just filling your head up with lies, pretending to be this understanding guy so you would feel safe with him and choose him, and the minute you weren’t going to, his real colors started to show." She scoffs as you all sit down on the terrace furniture.

But you don’t think they understood that you weren't sad-crying. You were furious. "He really tried to blame me... and then that bitch Sofia... I can't..." Your words got tangled together as you tried to express yourself but there was just too much flooding your mind at once.

The girls let you breathe, giving you a minute to yourself while Sarah eventually broke down after holding it in the entire time—tears streaming down her cheeks as she ranted about how hurt she was to not only see that John B had lied, but to actually witness the things he’d done.

Suddenly, footsteps rang out as a figure came up the steps, Rafe walking up, looked focused as his blue eyes locked onto your puffy ones as you dried the wetness under them. He walked straight past the girls, reaching down and gently grabbing your wrist, pulling you up as he eyed Sarah’s sobbing frame.

"...Sarah, I’m sorry." Rafe said as he tucked you under his arm. The girl sniffed, turning her angry, tearful gaze to Rafe.

“Why did none of you tell me?” She hissed, hiccuping halfway through the sentence. 

Rafe shakes his head then, a hand rubbing circles into your lower back as you tried to stop your own tears. “I didn’t know.” He throws one hand up, eyes wide. “I swear I didn’t.” 

“And Pope and JJ? I'm supposed to believe neither of them knew, either?”

“...I can’t speak for them.” Rafe says, swallowing as he lowers his hand. “But for what it’s worth, I think he really does regret it.”

Sarah scoffed then, the tears only coming faster. “Didn’t seem that way.” 

All Rafe can do is nod, resigning to not trying to defend the boy’s actions. “I’m gonna steal her for a minute,” He says cautiously as Rima and Cleo comfort Sarah, avoiding each other’s eyes awkwardly. “Feel better.” He throws out carefully, not very used to comforting anyone.

Rafe, with a tight-lipped smile, pulled you away from them, leading you down the steps and toward Say Less. Halfway there, he reached up with his thumbs, tenderly wiping the tears away from your cheeks. "Don't cry. Not over that shit," he whispered. "None of them matter. Let it go."

When you reached the secluded lounge, Rafe sat down with you, wrapping his long arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, just holding you.

You looked up at him, your angry tears morphing into ones of profound sadness. You stared into his beautiful blue eyes, a massive wave of guilt washing over you. He hadn't lied once.

"Rafe..." your voice cracked, a sob escaping your throat. "I am so, so sorry. I feel like such a piece of shit."

Rafe frowned, leaning closer. "Why are you apologizing to me?"

"Because you were telling the truth," you pouted, covering your face. "About everything. And I just feel like if the roles had been reversed... if a video had come out of me, you probably would have had so much more faith in me than I had in you.” Your voice shook. “I didn't even give you a chance to explain. I shut you out for days, slept in bed with someone else, and it took you going through literally half the villa and crying on your knees just to get me to listen to you. I never wanted that..."

Rafe’s expression softened as he reached out, gently pulling your hands away from your face and intertwining his fingers with yours. "Hey, look at me. Look at me," You looked up, sniffing.

"I'm not gonna lie and say seeing those clips didn’t hurt me... ‘cause yeah, it hurt. It hurt like hell," Rafe admitted softly, his voice cracking. "But at the end of the day, I meant what I told you—if Theo was the one who was genuinely gonna make you happy, then that was all I ever wanted.” He admits. “Of course, I want to be with you. I want to be the guy who makes you smile every day. But your happiness is the most important thing to me, and I’m willing to make that happen no matter what…even if it means me not being in the picture."

You shook your head, more tears falling. "But it should’ve never come to that,” your face twists in sadness. “You didn't do anything wrong."

Rafe smiled warmly then, leaning in and letting his forehead fall gently against yours. "I would do it all over again, angel.” He whispered to you, absolutely certain. “From that first day, you’ve been patient with me. You've been so understanding, and you've been there for me through all my shit. I’m not gonna hold this one thing against you when you’ve never done that to me. I’ve been on the other side of feeling guilty in this relationship, so trust me... we're even." He laughs, voice low.

Hearing his reassurance, a small, soft, sad smile graced your lips as he wiped one last stray tear. You looked at him through your lashes, forehead still pressed to his, a genuine laugh escaping your lips through your tears.

Rafe smirked, reaching out to gently pinch your cheek. "There she is.” He teased. “...You're so pretty, you know that? Even when you're crying."

"Shut up," you giggled, swatting his hand away playfully as you leaned back.

But Rafe leaned in closer, pulling you back toward him as his eyes dropped to your lips. His fingers trailed up your neck, thumb caressing your jawline, before he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against yours. 

The kiss was deep, warm, and filled with over a week's worth of built-up longing. You melted into it, hands wrapping around his shoulders as you kissed him back. The moment his mouth parted over yours, your tongues mingled, desperate to remember the taste of each other, a low groan vibrating deep in Rafe’s chest as he grabbed your waist, hauling you onto his lap.

Your fingers flew to his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you held him close, your heavy breathing filling the space between you. Rafe’s hands were everywhere, gripping your hips and tracing up your spine, pulling you flush against him until you could feel the pounding of his heart. You broke apart for a second, both of you gasping for air, eyes locked, before he let out something between a moan and a groan, the words ‘I missed you’ coming out in one single breath before he slammed his lips back onto yours, deepening the exchange with an urgency that left you breathless, grabbing at each other until you couldn’t even breathe.

When he pulled away, he kept his arms wrapped around your waist, both of you sitting cozier than ever.

You looked up at his face, a soft pout on your lips. "I don't like seeing you cry, Rafe."

Rafe let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "I think you do, honestly.” He squinted playfully. “I think you get off on it. Freak."

You laughed at his words, hitting his chest playfully. "I do think you look pretty when you cry, but it doesn't mean I like to see it. And I especially don't ever want to be the reason you're crying..."

Rafe smirked, his voice dropping as he leaned in to whisper against your ear. "It's okay, angel. Hopefully, you can make up for it to me soon."

Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking down the path made you both turn, faces hardening immediately.

Sofia walked in, stopping at the archway with her arms crossed tightly. She didn't look at Rafe. Instead, she locked her eyes on you. "...Can I talk to you?” She asks, looking uncomfortable. “Alone."

Rafe’s face instantly twisted. "Fuck no.” He answered for you, placing a protective hand on your thigh. “What the hell do you two have to talk about?"

You reached over, gently grabbing Rafe’s hand. "Rafe, it's fine."

Rafe whipped his head around, looking at you like you’d grown an extra head, trying to pull you back down. "No. You don't—"

"I'll be fine, Rafe. Trust me," you smiled reassuringly. You stood up, letting his hand fall from yours ans walking toward the door, but before you left, you turned back, leaned down, and wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck, planting a passionate, lingering kiss on his lips. Sofia’s jaw tensed with rage, huffing through her nose as she muttered something under her breath as you pulled away slowly. “I’ll be right back.”

Confessional : Rafe “Oh my fucking God. Can she just go away?” His eyes narrowed, dragging both his hands down his face, groaning loudly. “Seriously, fuck the viewers at this point. Just let me decide who goes home next, I promise on my life, I will make it worth your while.”

YOU and Sofia walked out toward the open expanse of the yard. As you walked by, the rest of the Islanders were scattered around—John B and Sarah waving wildly at each other up in Soul Ties, Cleo and Rima talking on the daybeds—and absolutely everybody stopped talking, staring at the two of you in hushed shock, wondering what the hell was going on, or about to happen.

You decided to sit down on the beanbags, in the open. You felt more comfortable having the conversation where people could see you, considering the last time you and Sofia had a private conversation in the dressing room, she had said some pretty unhinged things to you.

She sat opposite you, letting out a sharp breath, adjusting her dress before speaking, her tone clipped.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," Sofia said, a fleeting, empty apology before she switched to her real agenda. "But... you need to realize that what you saw on that screen wasn't what really went down at Casa."

You sat back, an unbothered smile pulling at your lips.

"Rafe isn’t who you think he is. He was all over me over there," Sofia lied smoothly. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so annoyed. "He was telling me how much he missed me, how he wanted to get back together—he’s lying to you."

Days ago, this might have destroyed you, sent you into a spiral. But now? You knew exactly who Sofia was—a deeply manipulative, desperate liar. And, this time, you didn't entertain her. You didn't get angry, and you didn't get loud. You just sat there, nodding along calmly, humming indifferently, and refusing to give her anything to work with.

Sofia frowned, her irritation growing at your lack of reaction. You two sat in tense silence as she grew angry at your composure, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek before she seemed to snap, scoffing and throwing herself back against the beanbag. "Why don't you give a shit?” She hissed, on the border of a tantrum. “I am literally telling you that Rafe is a liar!"

"Because I know exactly who you are at this point, Sofia," you said, voice deadpan. "And I know that you’re lying through your teeth. You’ve made it pretty clear that you’ll do whatever it takes to break me and Rafe apart, hoping that by some miracle, he’ll run back to you."

Sofia’s face twisted as she let out a harsh, cynical laugh, staring at you. "You think you have him figured out?” She shook her head, looking like she was on the edge of trying harder to upset you before her face just fell, her shoulders slumping. “I knew it.” She pouts, though her eyes remained angry as you turned confused. “I knew there was something different about you. I knew it from that night."

You frowned, your brow furrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Sofia leaned back, her nostrils flared as she seemed to regress into her own silent rage, seeming like she was cursing herself more than actually talking to you. "For all the bad things me and Rafe did to each other in our relationship... neither of us ever cheated. But... there was one night…he came close. He always denied it, but…I knew." Sofia’s eyes locked onto yours, a bitter smirk on her face. "...You don't remember me, do you?” She asked, tilting her head. “You don't remember him either."

Your heart stopped, lip curling. "What?"

"I saw how Rafe explained our breakup to you, before Casa, I watched it.” She shrugged. “But he didn’t tell you how things were.” She hissed, leaning forward. “Rafe was drinking, heavy, back then, he was high out of his mind constantly. We were arguing, back-to-back every day. But there was one argument that just…never faded for me. When I caught him at a strip club in Vegas after he told me he was there on business."

Sofia leaned even further in, her voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "I had a gut feeling, so I followed him there. And instead of finding him doing business, he was with all his friends—high, throwing ones at strippers, flirting with bartenders. I walked in, ready to confront him, but before I reached him... I spotted him at the bar. He was talking to a girl.” She swallowed, sucking in a deep breath. “And even from all the way across the club, through the crowd, under the lights… I could see the look he was giving her. He was drunk, probably high too, his hands wrapped around her thighs, and he was looking up at her like she was the most beautiful, captivating thing he had ever seen in his entire life." She laughed bitterly to herself.

“I tried to so hard to forget that night, to forget her. I almost did…until I saw you.” Sofia stared directly into your eyes, voice trembling. "Because it was you."

“...What the hell are you talking about?”

Sofia pursed her lips at your words, eyes low. “You’re telling me you really don’t remember?”

Your eyes were narrowed, lips slightly parted as you wracked your brain, thinking harder than you had since you got here. Then, the sound of Sofia's voice faded away as a memory came slamming into your brain…

You were back in that suffocating Las Vegas club, the air clouded with the scent of expensive perfume, musky cologne, liquor, and smoke. The vibe was sensual—low neon purple and pink lights bathed the room in an ethereal glow. Women were dancing slowly on the illuminated stages, and the rumbling chatter of men and the bass of the music vibrated through the floor.

You were working your shift, only a bottle girl by then, wearing a tight, revealing black outfit, carrying a tray of drinks across the crowded room. You bounced around from table to table, typically seeing the same nameless, wealthy men passing through a couple times a week. Faces usually blurred together. But that night, you walked up to the bar, and your eyes landed on a guy sitting alone. He looked a lot younger than the usual crowd. 

You don’t know why you approached him. You just felt like you should, your feet carrying you to him.

Rafe was younger then, his hair longer and messier, blue eyes glassy and wild. He was sitting at the bar, high and drunk, distant from his friends who were admiring the strippers and throwing money away nearby.

You walked up to him, a flirtatious smile on your lips. It was your job to flirt, it was how you made your living. "Hi," you said, your voice smooth over the loud music as you shifted your weight. "You look lonely. Can I get you another drink?"

Rafe slowly turned his head, prepared to coldly dismiss you when his glassy eyes locked onto your face. His words died in his throat as he stared at you, starstruck, as if the rest of the club had completely vanished around him. He let out a low, raspy chuckle, his words slightly slurred.

"Yeah," Rafe murmured, his eyes tracking the movement of your lips as they curved upwards, satisfied. "Get me whatever you're having."

You giggled, leaning against the bar. "I'm on the clock, handsome.” You pouted cutely. “I can't drink. But you can definitely throw another one back for me."

Rafe licked his lips slowly, his gaze charged as he looked up at you. "You're trying to drain my wallet, I see. In more ways than one."

You arched an eyebrow, leaning closer. "And what’s that supposed to mean?"

Rafe slurred a low laugh, his voice a raspy whisper. "I mean... another drink and I’ll probably be stumbling to the back with you."

You let out a soft, sultry laugh, looking down at him as one of your hands reached out, tracing the lines of his arm. "Hm. You’re too handsome to be a drunk one-nighter. I’d much prefer you sober."

At that, Rafe hummed, reaching out. His large, warm hands wrapped around the sides of your thighs, fingers trailing slowly up the fabric of your outfit, what little of it there was. His touch burned, goosebumps raising on your skin immediately, a blinding bolt of electricity shooting straight through your skin, making your breath hitch. He didn't move his hands, keeping his grip tight on your thighs as he stared up at your face, looking at you like you were a literal goddess.

Your thoughts in that moment rushed back to you—you remembered thinking how gentle this guy was despite clearly being out of his mind, how pretty his blue eyes looked under the neon lights, and how he was making your entire shift.

"You're beautiful," Rafe whispered, his voice serious as his hands ran up and down your frame. "Way too fucking beautiful to be working in a place like this."

You laughed it off softly, though your heart was hammering against your ribs so hard it hurt. "I think me being beautiful is exactly why I'm here."

"No," Rafe muttered, shaking his head slightly before his eyes locked onto yours. "Y’know what I mean..."

You hummed then, teasing. “I’m not sure I do,” you taunted, eyes narrowing as his hands squeezed you briefly in warning. “Enlighten me.”

He continued flirting with you, his eyes never once leaving yours as the two of you threw comments back and forth, inching closer until you were standing in between his open thighs. But suddenly, mid-laugh, you looked up past his shoulder, spotting a dark-haired girl standing across the crowded club near the entrance, glaring directly at the two of you, her face twisted in pure rage.

Your smile died then, your head lowering. You knew how this went. Gently tapping Rafe’s shoulder and nodding toward the girl, "Uh, I... think someone is here for you."

Rafe slowly turned his head through the crowd, eyebrows pinched before spotting Sofia standing there, face tightening. "Shit," he muttered, pouting as you stepped out of his reach.

You didn't take offense. Working in clubs, you had seen your fair share of angry girlfriends and wives storming in to drag their men out by their ears. You offered him one final, soft smile, turning around and walking away into the shadows.

After that night, you hadn't thought about it too much. You saw thousands of men, and faces easily faded. But the exact way that he had made you feel—that intense pull—had stuck in the back of your mind for months. You remembered looking around the club for his face for weeks afterward, hoping he'd become a regular, shamefully hoping his girlfriend, you’d assumed, had rightfully called it quits and maybe that’d make him come back. But he never returned. Just as you realistically figured he wouldn’t when you recalled seeing his North Carolina ID on the bar counter…

Snapping you back to the present, you blinked rapidly, staring across at Sofia, your jaw slightly parted as the realization settled in. 

It was him. It had always been him.

"...If that's the case, Sofia," you said, your voice dropping into a serious tone. "Why do you want him back so bad?"

Sofia’s face shifted from sad to serious, eyes hardening with an ugly ambition. "Because I love Rafe.” She quips. “He is the only guy who has ever taken care of me in my life. I dealt with the ugliest side of him, thinking it meant I could have the life I wanted in the end, the life I knew Rafe could provide...Just for him to break up with me and give the best version of himself to you."

You shook your head, looking at her with genuine pity. "Sofia... that isn't love—"

"I beg to differ," Sofia snapped, glaring at you. "I see the way he looks at you, sure.” She shrugs, bitter. “But I’m not going to allow you to just take him. I want him to look at me like that, and I won’t stop until he does.” She admits, like anything she’s saying makes any logical sense. “I’ll do whatever I have to."

Without waiting for a response, Sofia got up, turned, and walked away, leaving you sitting there, head spinning.

YOUR heart raced as you walked back toward Say Less, finding Rafe still sitting anxiously. The moment he saw you, his eyes lit up as he opened his arms for you.

"What happened?” Rafe asked instantly. “What did she say to you?"

You looked deep into his eyes as you walked to him slowly, sitting down, face still blank. "Rafe... did you remember me?"

Rafe froze, hands on your arms as confusion flashed across his face for a moment, fully prepared to ask what you meant. Then a hint of knowingness, a quiet anticipation flashed through his eyes—as if he had been waiting for this exact question since the day you met. He didn't try to play dumb, and he didn't ask what you meant. He took a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

"...Not at first I didn't, no," Rafe admitted quietly.

You weren't upset at all, though it was clear he though you were. Truthfully, you were just confused. 

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Rafe looked back up, his blue eyes vulnerable, surprised that you weren’t yelling at him. "At first, I wasn’t even sure.” He tells you, pulling you closer. “That night… I was high out of my mind, seeing literal stars, and everything was a blur.” He sighs. “...But the more time we spent together in here, the more I got to know you, I realized I would never mistake you for anyone else. Because I never really forgot you to begin with."

He shifted closer, his hands gently resting on your waist. "After we met that night, it was like you left a permanent mark on me. I had never felt that type of…pull toward someone in my life. I felt like I was going crazy. I would sometimes see your face in my dreams. It’d be blurry, but...I could still make it out. Other times, when I…got high, all I would remember was that night at the club with you. Your voice, your eyes, the way you smiled..."

Tears stung the corners of your eyes as you pouted at him. "Why didn't you tell me then? When you finally did realize it?"

"I didn't want to ruin it," Rafe whispered softly, his thumb caressing your hip. "I thought…saying something might scare you off, or make you think I was creepy. Plus, it just felt like it would’ve brought up bad memories for both of us about who we were at the time. Even when you were explaining your past to me, even though I had already figured it out by then, I just didn't want to break the moment.” He shrugs softly. “I figured it would come back to you naturally one day. I was kind of hoping it would.” He smiles, small, to himself. “Because I was praying to God that I had left the impression on you that you left on me." He looked at you. "Did I?"

You gave him a lopsided smile, leaning forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as you nodded, Rafe smiling in response. "I didn't have dreams about you or anything,” you teased. “...but you were the best experience I had working in those clubs. For months, I would replay our conversation, the feeling I got when your fingers brushed against my skin... it never left my mind. I was moving from city to city, so many faces passed through, so your face didn't stick, but that night did. I used to look around that club for you every shift, waiting for you to come back."

Rafe let out a laugh, pulling you flush against his body and into his lap with a playful groan. You both realized that this wasn't just a reality show connection or something born out of proximity.

You let out a soft sigh, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “I’m not gonna lie... I feel kind of bad for Sofia now,” you murmured. 

Rafe’s eyebrows pinched, looking down at you. “For what?” 

“I don’t know, I would’ve hated to be her in that situation. It makes me feel kind of guilty,” you admitted, tracing a pattern on his chest. “She didn’t even see what you did that night as cheating.” 

Rafe squinted down at you, a half-smirk on his lips. “Do you see it as cheating?” 

You let out a disbelieving scoff, rolling your eyes. “Hell yeah. Are you out of your mind? You were holding another girl's thighs...at a bar...in a strip club.” Rafe chuckled softly, squeezing you tight. 

“They were your thighs,” He tries to flirt, but you fix him with a disapproving look. “I’m not that person anymore, angel. You got nothing to worry about with me.” 

You softened, leaning your head back down into his chest. “I know. I trust you.” You paused, a small smirk playing on your lips as you teased, "But just as a warning, if you ever cheat on me, I will castrate you and destroy quite literally everything you own.“

Rafe nodded at your words, serious but also slightly amused. "Noted."

"That's all you gotta say?" You taunted, quirking one singular brow.

Rafe just shrugged lazily. "It'll never happen, so neither of us have anything to worry about."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, leaning further into him. "Good answer," you sighed. "But I definitely see why she hates my guts so much now.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s been so long since that night happened, and it wasn’t your fault. She can’t be mad at you and want me back at the same time—it doesn't make any sense.” He sighed, kissing the top of your head before sighing heavily. “I don’t want to talk about Sofia anymore.”

As you cuddled on the couch, Rafe tracing his fingers on the surface of your skin, his voice dropping into a tender tone. "I am never going to do anything to hurt you, angel.” He says softly. "All I want is you."

“You have me,” you returned, muttering sweetly.

But, consciously deciding to work on communication right then and there, Rafe transitioned to a heavy topic. "...I don’t really like how Theo spoke to you tonight."

You sighed, lips flapping as you let air escape them. "I didn't either," you admitted.

Rafe shifted to be able to look at you. "Where do you stand with that, though? Do you... do you still want to explore things with him?" He asked cautiously, trying to be fair and not sway your decision.

"No," you said, not an ounce of hesitation. "Although it probably makes me look like a bad person, I guess it’s only right to admit that…I only brought him back because of that video. I did genuinely like him, the connection wasn’t fake, but deep down… I didn't want to look stupid if you walked through the doors with Sofia.” You say, guilt-ridden. “But tonight, I saw a completely different, ugly side of him. And the girls even said that it doesn't add up that he was this super understanding, patient guy up until tonight. The second I head in your direction, all his patience goes out the window and he turns into an asshole." You scoff. "But none of that matters anyway,” you shrug, resettling into him.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it was never gonna be him.” You sighed, peering up at Rafe as he strokes the skin of your cheek. “I’ll talk to him tonight, cut things off."

"Don’t get me wrong when I say this, angel, but…” Rafe hesitates. “Are you sure that's fair? You've given me a hell of a lot of chances in here."

You rolled your eyes, a warmth hitting your cheeks. "Yeah, well... that's you."

Rafe leaned in closer, teasing. "Well, what's the difference between me and him, huh?"

You smirked, teasing him right back. "You'll find out eventually, Cameron. I'm not quite ready to say those words. Especially not after a shitty night like this.” You scoff, though lighthearted, as you slid out of Rafe’s hold to stand, smoothing out your dress as he helps you. “I’m gonna go find Theo, let him know it's over, and then after that…” You egged on, hands on Rafe’s thigh as you leaned down, your nose tapping his as you both smiled softly. “I am back to being all yours."

Rafe laughed, craning his neck up to kiss your forehead.

TAKING a deep breath, you spotted Theo sitting by the fire pit. You walked over, shoulders square, heels clicking against the deck.

"Theo," you called. Theo looked up, his expression significantly calmer than it had been during the screaming match. “We should talk.”

He nodded slowly, shifting to the side even though there was enough room for you to sit. "Yeah..."

You sat opposite him, wasting no time in taking control of the conversation, hands clasped in your lap. "I want to start by saying that I don’t appreciate the way you came at me tonight, or the way you've been treating me all day." Theo went to speak, but you held up a hand. "Let me finish, please.” You stop him. “I understand you're hurt, but everything I said earlier still stands. I have been completely transparent with you since day one. I have never lied to you, I have never gone behind your back, and I tried my absolute best to give you a fair shot in here.” You explained.

“I know I probably haven't done the best job of that because of my feelings for Rafe, but I don’t like the way you painted things. More than once, you acknowledged that you knew my feelings for Rafe were stronger, and you repeatedly told me that even if I chose him, you would be okay. But the second you felt the walls closing in, I’m sorry but, you turned into a complete asshole." 

Theo let out a heavy breath, looking down at his hands as he wrung them. "I do want to apologize," Theo started quietly, looking into your eyes. "I am sorry for speaking to you that way earlier. I let my emotions take over. And I also want you to know I wasn't using you just to get into the villa. I do genuinely like you. But... I guess I have to admit that my patience and understanding wasn't entirely genuine."

He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "Truthfully, I have been frustrated with you not knowing what you wanted. I should have come forward and been honest about it, instead of pretending to be this perfect, understanding guy, and then completely blowing up on you when things didn't go my way. I take full accountability for that.” He emphasizes with his hands. “I think... I think I was just completely stuck on the idea that I could be the guy to change your mind. And when I realized tonight that I couldn't... I got upset, I won't lie. And I’m not naive. I know that after tonight, you probably aren't willing to explore us anymore. I don't blame you."

You let out a soft breath, appreciating his honesty. "Thank you, Theo. And, you're right, I am ending things between us tonight. But I want to clarify that it doesn't have everything to do with how you spoke to me earlier. I won't sit here and say I'm dumping you just because you got aggressive, because when Rafe did the exact same thing, I gave him another chance. So that would be hypocritical of me." You looked at him gently. "I'm ending it because, clearly, what happened between me and Rafe was a huge misunderstanding. And, to end things honestly with you, Theo... had that misunderstanding not happened, you probably wouldn't even be here right now."

Theo let out a faint, sad smirk, nodding. "Yeah. I figured."

"But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t great getting to know you, Theo," you concluded respectfully. "But my connection with Rafe is easily the strongest thing I have ever felt in my entire life, and if I were to continue trying with you, I would never be able to give you 100% of myself. Rafe is what I want.” You told him. “I hope we can still be at least cordial while we're both here, but I understand if that’s not something you want, and I wish you nothing but the best."

Theo nodded, a look of acceptance settling over him. "I saw it coming, honestly, and I chose to pursue you anyway. I put myself in this situation.” He takes the blame. “I apologize, again, for not fully being myself. That perfect, patient guy... that's just not who I am in the real world. It was who I was trying to be for you, but clearly, it didn't work. I'll keep working on myself. But yeah,” He shrugs. “I want to be cool, I want to be cordial, and I have nothing against you, Y/N. You are beautiful, amazing, and Rafe is a lucky guy.” He offers genuinely. “Hopefully, I can clear the air with him later too."

You offered him a warm smile, and the two of you stood up, hugging it out before parting ways.

THE girls were gathered in the glam room, getting ready for bed, the tension thicker than ever.

Sarah was pacing in her silk pajamas, her eyes red and puffy as she continued her rant about John B, still distraught. "I’m just really hurt," Sarah cried, throwing her hands in the air. "The part that’s killing me is the fact that he reached a stage with her in less than a week that me and him haven't even fucking reached yet!” Fresh tears flowed from her eyes as she braided her hair up in the full body mirror, sniffing. “And when I confronted him about it, he was literally just talking in circles!"

She wiped a stray tear away snappily. "I told him that he was moving as if he had the potential to fall in love with her, and he didn't even deny it!” Her hands drop from her hair as she cries into her palms, still standing. You pout then, rounding the table to hug her as she sobbed. “He lied straight to my face. Why the fuck did he sit me down and pull me for a chat just to lie to my face about all of it?! He keeps saying over and over that, in the end, he chose me, but it doesn't fucking matter! He embarrassed me!" She sobbed, so hard her shoulders shook.

"We're so sorry, Sar," you murmured, rubbing a hand up and down her back. She continued to cry into your shoulder as the other girls offered their words of comfort. You stood with her for a long minute until she calmed down, gently removing herself from your hold and shooting you a sad smile. “Are you sleeping in the room tonight?”

She immediately shook her head. “No, hell no. I don’t want to be near him.” She wiped her eyes.

“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “He’s giving you the bed.”

Sarah laughed at that, always grateful for you. “It’s fine—”

“No, it’s not.” You shot her a pointed look as you applied moisturizer to your lips. “He doesn’t get to lie to your face and shower with another girl then sleep peacefully while you sleep outside. Plus, you know you’re scared of the owl.” At that, all of the girls let out light laughs, the mood elevating slightly.

“What? I just go up to him and tell him to get out of the bed?” Sarah asked, voice still strained. “I don’t even want to look at him…”

“I’ll do it,” You shrugged. “Just give me a minute and I got you.”

Sarah nodded gratefully, running to kiss your cheek before she left the room. But as you continued to get ready, it became apparent that there was also a wall of tension between Rima and Cleo. They were refusing to acknowledge each other's existence in the room while the other girls chatted mindlessly. 

So, when Cleo walked into the adjoining bathroom, you decided to follow her. You pushed the door open, sliding it closed behind you, finding Cleo in front of the marble sink, squeezing toothpaste onto her toothbrush.

"Hey," you said softly. "You okay? Did you and Rima talk?"

Cleo let out a frustrated breath, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "We tried to have a conversation, but we just see the situation in two different ways.” She shrugged, sticking the toothbrush in her mouth, talking and brushing. “Rima doesn't think she's in the wrong at all. She keeps saying that me and Pope kissed first, and that had we not kissed, Justin would have never kissed her. She doesn’t think I have a right to be upset with her because I kissed Pope."

Cleo covered her mouth to spit in the sink, wiping her face, voice dropping into a hurt whisper. "But I still think I deserve the right to be upset!” She pouts. “I'm not even really mad that she and Justin kissed. I'm upset because it feels like they’re maybe not over each other as much as they claimed to be. And I hate the fact that I had to find out through Movie Night, when Rima had all day to tell me the truth. But when I said that, she said I had all day to tell Justin about Pope, and that when Justin asked me, I lied to his face."

You looked at Cleo. In terms of taking sides, you knew it best to remain neutral and give her the more objective truth.

"Cleo... I'm not taking sides here," you said gently, leaning against the sink. "But, I understand you've been open with Justin about still having feelings for Pope... but when it came down to it, you did lie to Justin's face when he asked you if you kissed him.” You told her honestly. “So, I don't think it's necessarily fair for you to be mad at Rima for the kiss, especially when Justin was the one who came onto her."

Cleo rolled her eyes, groaning, knowing you were right.

"However," you continued firmly, "I also don't think it's fair for Rima to think she shouldn't have told you. We’re supposed to be girls, and she should have had your back and been upfront the second it happened. But, from the look on her face when she pulled Rafe, she did look really upset.” You threw out in her defense. “And I know I’m the last person to be saying this but, you need to make up your mind between Pope and Justin, babe. And after that, you and Rima need to have a real conversation about both of your feelings. If Rima still has feelings for Justin, she needs to say it, but if she doesn’t, then that’s enough to put this behind you."

You reached for Cleo’s arm, squeezing it. "This villa moves crazy fast. People get dumped constantly, and we never know who could be next. It is not worth falling out over a guy. All four of you need to just sit down together and hash it out."

Cleo looked at you, a sigh escaping her lips as she nodded. "You're right.” She nodded. “I think I needed to hear that."

“Anytime,” you smiled, hugging her lightly. "I’ll see you in the morning." 

Cleo nodded and you smiled, kissing her cheek before walking out of the bathroom.

YOU walked out onto the lower deck, the night air brushing your skin as you began setting up the blankets and pillows on the outdoor daybeds. It was a bittersweet feeling, but for the first time in a long, grueling week, you and Rafe were finally back to sharing a bed. Even if it was the daybed again. 

As you smoothed out the sheets, Rafe finally walked out to join you, wearing nothing but his grey sweatpants. He glanced up toward the upper deck, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “I heard you kicked John B out of the room,” he murmured. 

Looking up, you both could see John B miserably setting up his own blanket and pillow over in Soul Ties. You let out a proud scoff, shaking out a pillow. “Yep. He doesn’t get to sleep comfortably after what he did.” 

Rafe let out a low chuckle, stepping close to help you set up the covers. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

You turned your head, a teasing smirk pulling at your lips. “I’m sure you know that all too well by now.” 

Looking down at you standing there in your short sleep shorts and oversized tee of his, his blue eyes lit up, thinking you looked absolutely adorable. You both slid under the covers together, and you turned to him with a teasing smirk. 

Rafe let out a chuckle as he peered down at your face, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. "Sleeping on these things feels one-hundred times better with you. I’m not even joking."

"Yeah," you whispered, turning your body around so you were facing him. "I definitely agree."

Rafe stared down at your face. Before you could even open your mouth to ask why he was staring, Rafe leaned down and captured your lips in a hungry kiss. His lips were warm and soft, his tongue smoothly sliding into your mouth as you groaned softly against his lips, lifting your legs, wrapping them tightly around his waist under the blanket.

He groaned at the movement, gently biting your lower lip as his hand slithered down your back, sliding underneath your sleep shorts, squeezing your ass hard before his fingers pressed firmly against the skin between your legs, a breathy moan leaving your lips. 

“Rafe…” you whine softly as he began rubbing you through your underwear, the fabric growing damp, sticking to you in a way that only made his touch feel that much better as he caught your lips again to silence your light moans while you arched into his touch.

In the heat of it all, you had half a mind to reach down, your hand sliding into his sweatpants, fingers palming his length over his briefs, rubbing him firmly with an occasional squeeze. Rafe let out a ragged gasp into your mouth, dick jumping as he began bucking his hips up into your hand, losing control under your touch.

His hand then slid out of your underwear just to slid in from the front, his lips moving down to your neck, sucking on your skin as his fingers found your clit, rubbing circles into you. You were stroking him faster, squeezing him through his pants, and Rafe let out a rough, breathless groan against your neck.

"Fuck..." Rafe gasped, his breathing shallow, hips twitching. "If you... if you keep doing that, I’m gonna—"

And like a slap to the face, when Rafe let out a low whine and let lust take over, a large finger dipping into you that made you gasp loudly, you suddenly realized exactly where you were. You let out a breathless giggle, slowly pulling your hand out of his pants as he removed his fingers from your underwear.

"We should probably calm down," you whispered, burying your face in his chest. "Production, John B, and the owl are gonna kill us."

Rafe let out a raspy laugh, amused as he looked down at you, his eyes still slightly clouded over as he took the same fingers that had just been inside you and casually popped them into his own mouth, licking them clean.

"Rafe, stop!" you whined, hitting his chest playfully as you covered your face.

Rafe chuckled, pulling your hands from your face and kissing your lips hard one last time before reaching into his sweatpants to readjust himself with a low, longing sigh. He pulled you against his chest, tucking your head underneath his chin as you both stared up at the star-filled night sky.

The silence of the night settled over you, peaceful. You played with the strings of his sweatpants, looking up at him. "...What do you think people think about us? Like out there? The people watching…"

Rafe let out a soft laugh, his chest rising and falling beneath you. "They probably think we’re a fuckin’ mess."

You laughed along softly, but a tiny pang of sadness crossed your features. You sighed, looking down. "Yeah... that's probably my fault. They probably fucking hate me for how I treated you this week."

Rafe stopped laughing then. He reached down, cupping your chin firmly and forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

"I don't think a single person in this entire world could ever look at you and hate you.”

next chapter>

this is like 50% proofread so im sorry if it's like LITTERED with errors

You furrow your brow, your eyes adjusting to the room. Across from you, Sarah is rubbing her eyes, her blonde hair tangled around her face. Kiara is already sitting up, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn, while Cleo and Rima are still buried beneath their duvets.

"Rafe?" you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. You sit up, looking around the spacious room. Usually, Rafe is either pulling you back down into the pillows, complaining about how loud the birds are outside, or creepily watching you sleep.

Today though, his side of the bed is perfectly neat, the sheets smoothed over.

"John B isn't here either," Sarah says, her voice laced with confusion as she swings her legs over the edge of the mattress. "Maybe they went down to the kitchen early? He was talking about making pancakes last night."

"JJ’s gone too," Kiara adds, looking at the empty spot on the bed next to hers. She sighs, running a hand through her curls.

"Mm, let them be gone," Cleo grumbles from beneath her blanket, her muffled voice sounding completely unbothered. "More space for us. Sharing a bed with Miles is like dangling above the Grand Canyon. Jus' fightin' for my life every night..."

You nod, swallowing down a weird spike of anxiety in your chest. It makes sense, the boys frequently wake up early to hit the gym or raid the fridge, making you all breakfast.

Still, a strange quiet hangs over you, clouding your mind. It just feels different.

You throw on a casual oversized shirt and slide into your slippers, walking to the glam room to fix your face. For the next forty-five minutes, the routine is completely normal. You, Sarah, Kie, Cleo, and Rima take turns in the bathroom, doing your makeup, gossiping about the night before, and spraying an excessive amount of perfume. By the time you all walk down the stairs, dressed in your bikinis, you're fully expecting to hear the clatter of weights or dishes or JJ’s loud laugh.

Instead, the villa is completely dead.

"...Okay, now this is weird," Rima says, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Maybe they're by the pool?" Sarah suggests, walking out through the wide open glass doors onto the deck.

You all follow her out but even then, the outdoor daybeds are empty. The pool is undisturbed, reflecting the morning sky. The gym equipment is sitting exactly where it was left yesterday, completely untouched. 

"What the hell?" Cleo says, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks around. "Where the hell are they? Did they get kidnapped by production in the middle of the night?"

"I don't know, but it’s creeping me out," Sarah says, walking over to the kitchen island. There are no signs of breakfast. No coffee brewing.

Nothing. 

You lean against the edge of the sun lounger, your stomach doing a nervous flip. Your mind immediately goes to Rafe. He wouldn't just leave without letting you know before he got pulled away. "Do you think it’s a bombshell thing? Like when me and Cleo got pulled?" you ask, the words tasting sour on your tongue. "Like, maybe they got pulled out for a challenge or a date with someone new?"

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she walks over to join you. "A bombshell? For all five of them at once? No way." She reels back. "That’s crazy. Usually, they send one or two girls in to stir the pot, not pull the entire male population of the villa."

"Yeah, that doesn't make sense," Rima agrees, sitting down on the edge of a daybed. "If it was a bombshell date thing, they’d only take one or two guys, max. Maybe they’re just filming some promotional stuff outside the villa?"

"Without us?" Cleo raises an eyebrow. "Please. We're the main attraction." 

Just as you open your mouth to suggest other possibilities, the familiar high-pitched ping of a text message echoes across the deck and you all freeze.

Rima dives for her phone, which is sitting on a nearby table. Her eyes widen as she taps the screen.

"...Oh my god," She breathes, her jaw instantly dropping.

“What? What is it?”

But she remains silent, face slowly getting more contorted the longer her eyes stay on the screen.

"Read it, Rima! Don't just stare at it!" Kiara exclaims, crowding around her along with Sarah and Cleo. You step closer, slowly, your heart racing.

Rima clears her throat, voice riddled with disbelief as she reads the screen aloud.

Girls, it's time for a little change of scenery. The boys have been whisked away to Casa Amor, where five brand new bombshells are waiting to get to know them. But don't worry... you won't be lonely for long. #NewBoysNewToys #CasaAmor

"Casa Amor?!" Sarah shrieks, clutching her hair. "Right now?!"

You suck in a deep breath, your chest tightening as the rest of the girls jump around and cheer, excited.

You felt like you and Rafe had just finally gotten into a really good, steady rhythm. The thought of him in a completely different villa surrounded by five girls who are custom-built to turn heads makes your stomach churn.

"So, that means new boys are coming here?" Rima repeats, her eyes wide as she swiped her hair from her face, smiling brightly. "Like, today?!"

"That's what it says," Cleo says. "Well, damn. I guess Miles is going to have to see if his loyalty holds up. Because Lord knows I'm about to see what these new boys are about." She shrugs carelessly. " I hope they're hot."

"I can't believe this," Kiara mutters, her smile fading as a realization comes to the forefront of her mind. "...JJ is going to lose his mind. He’s like a...toddler with shiny objects. If a girl so much as breathes in his direction—"

Before Kiara can even finish her sentence, you hear a marching band of footsteps. The sound echoes loudly across the courtyard, cutting through the air, and you all whirl around toward the entrance to see the glimpse of toned legs, abs, and happy trails bounding into the villa.

"Oh my god, they’re here," Sarah whispers, her voice suddenly dropping an octave as she repeatedly smacks your arm.

You expect to see five completely new, incredibly muscular, glowing male bombshells swaggering through the doors in slow motion, grinning like tigers, ready to sweep you all off of your feet.

Instead, as the five guys come sauntering in, laughing and shouting, nearly all of your smiles drop.

One by one, the boys come into clear view under the sun.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

Next to you, Sarah’s face drains of all color. Kiara stops pacing entirely, her body locking up. Cleo’s eyes narrow to dangerous slits, and Rima lets out a sharp, choked noise that sounds like a gasp mixed with a curse.

It isn't a group of strangers.

It’s all of your exes.

Your jaw clenches so hard your teeth ache. A burning, hot wave of what you can only describe as unfiltered fury rushes from the tips of your toes straight up to your chest, all the way to the tips of your ears.

You stare at the boy walking at the back of the pack—dark hair, the same smug posture. 

Mattheo.

The silence that settles over the villa is suffocating, deadly as the boys stop their boisterous entrance, realizing they’re being stared at like ghosts or criminals.

The look on every one of your faces is a nothing short of either profound shock or total disgust.

“Hey, ladies,” one of the guys smirks. He’s decently tall, dark hair, and a face littered with moles. “...You all don’t look too happy to see us.” he jokes, and Sarah rolls her eyes.

“Seriously, Thomas?"

“Sorry,” the boy throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Forget how bossy you can get,” he winks, Sarah scoffing as he turns to the rest of you. “Well, there goes my introduction." He claps his hands, flashing a lopsided smile. "Hi ladies, I’m Thomas. But you can call me Tommy.”

Confessional : Thomas "Hey, I'm Thomas, I'm twenty-four, and I'm a professional track star from California.” He flexes his arm. “I'm over the dating apps. It feels like everyone is just looking for the next best thing, and nobody actually wants to sit down and build something real." He speaks honestly. "I'm not a fan of drama at all. I like things straightforward, chill, and honest. I guess my biggest red flag in a girl is someone who is totally wishy-washy, no offense, Sar—but yeah, someone who doesn't know what they want and expects you to wait around while they figure it out.” He admits. “I'm here to find a real connection, and someone who's sure about me." He smiles to himself.

Confessional : Sarah "I haven't seen his face in what feels like an eternity.” Her jaw drops, stuttering for words. “We were so on-and-off for years, and it was exhausting, but seeing him standing in front of me? My jaw? On the floor." She deadpans, scoffing. "We text here and there, just checking in, but in person? Wow. He is... way hotter than I remember.” She gushed. “When we were together, he had this super short buzzcut, but with the longer hair? Yeah, he looks good." She giggled, biting her lip.

You all wave, greeting Thomas as Sarah shooks him a cheeky look. Then another guy steps forward, looking somewhat shy, but also cocky at the same time as he introduces himself. “Hey,” he starts, his voice low and dark, carrying the remnants of an accent you can’t fully place. “I’m Theodore. But, please, call me Theo.” He greets, eyes shifting to Kiara who doesn’t wave at him. “Good to see you again, Kie.” He gives her an awkward, tight-lipped smile.

Kie huffs, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek as she crosses her arms. “Can’t say the same.”

Confessional : Theodore "I’m Theo. I'm twenty-three, from Italy, and I work as a mechanic." He says casually. "Uh, people usually tell me I have a bit of a dark, mysterious vibe, but...I’m just a guy who likes his space.” He shrugs. “I came here to have some fun, meet beautiful women, and see what happens. In the past, my main issue has been letting people get too close to me. I don't like feeling trapped. If things get too heavy, too fast, I tend to pull back. I feel like I just need someone who understands that you can't rush a man.” He admits. “I'm looking for a girl who can keep up with me without trying to tie me down right away. Or one that makes me want to be tied down..."

Kiara’s arms are crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes locked on Theodore as he glances her way with a lazy, knowing smirk. 

Confessional : Kiara "I have such...mixed feelings about Theodore being here.” She bites her lips, groaning. “We didn't end on the worst terms, but it definitely wasn't good. We had this whole 'friends with benefits' thing, but the problem was, I started really falling for him. And the second it started getting deep and I asked for something more... he ghosted me." She emphasized, curling her lip. "Literally left me on read, would not pick up a single call, and I haven't heard a single word from him since. It's so awkward seeing him. Part of me wants to hear him out and see if he actually has an explanation, but the other part of me just wants to give him the coldest shoulder possible.” She rolls her eyes, huffing. 

“...Well, while those two glare each other to death, I guess I’ll introduce myself,” another guy steps forward, eyes lingering on Cleo for a moment. He had an undeniably handsome face, these blue-ish green eyes, and arms completely covered in intricate, stunning tattoos. “I’m Brandon. Just Brandon.”

Confessional : Brandon "Hey, I'm Brandon. I'm twenty-five, originally from Sydney, Australia, but I'm currently living and working out of Brooklyn as a tattoo artist." He turns, giving a good view of one his sleeves, and the muscles beneath it. "I've spent the last few years traveling all over the world, which has been amazing, but it's made me realize something pretty sad,” He shrugged, pursing his lips. “I'm always the temporary guy in everyone’s life. I come into town, we have a great time, and then I move on because I just can't seem to stay planted." He shrugs, though a smile remains on his face. A pretty one, too. "I'm sick of being a pit stop. I'm here because I want to find someone who actually makes me want to settle down and stick around."

Cleo stares at Brandon, her expression unreadable but her eyes dangerously sharp. 

Confessional : Cleo "Okay, let me clear something up real quick. Earlier, I talked about an ex who played me and literally robbed me blind." She pinches her fingers, holding them up to punctuate her words. "Brandon is not that guy. Thank God. Brandon is actually my most recent ex. But... he did break my heart a little. We met in the Bahamas while I was working and I really thought we were building something serious, then out of nowhere, he just tells me he accepted a tattoo residency all the way across the country.” She deadpans, rolling her eyes. “Obviously, communication just died after that. He left. So seeing him here? It brings up a lot of stuff I thought I buried..."

“Alright, I can’t let everybody get ahead of me,” one of them cuts in. He has a flawless complexion, a perfectly sculpted physique, and a blinding smile. “What’s up, ladies? I’m Justin.”

Confessional : Justin "What’s up?” He waves gleefully. “I'm Justin, twenty-three, from LA, and I work as a fitness model." He smiles, winking. "Look, I know what people think when they look at me. I'm used to being treated like the trophy boyfriend. Girls love showing me off, but when it comes down to actually having a conversation or anything, they don't care what's going on in my head." He pouts, slumping in his seat. "I'm sick of being judged by my cover. I want someone who wants to read the actual book. I'm looking for a girl with deep emotional intelligence, someone who can match my energy and look past the surface. I want a real partnership."

Rima is the only girl who doesn't look completely miserable. She actually lets out a small laugh, shaking her head as Justin catches her eye and winks. 

Confessional : Rima "Justin!" She beams. "Honestly, out of all the exes you guys could have dragged into this villa, I'm relieved it's him." She shrugs, jutting her bottom lip out. "I genuinely believe Justin and I were a good match. The problem was just that we were both incredibly headstrong, and our schedules were insane with his modeling and my work. It just fizzled out because we didn't have time. But we're still really close. We actually talk pretty often, so having him here... it's a breath of fresh air compared to whatever horror show the other girls are dealing with."

“I guess I’m getting the short end of the stick, but you know what the say—save the best for last,” this guy smirks. He has a dark, boyish look with sharp eyes and an even sharper jawline, and a slight, confident tilt to his head that makes your blood boil. “I’m Mattheo.”

Confessional : Mattheo "How’s it goin’? I'm Mattheo, I'm twenty-three and I'm from Vegas." He throws his hands out, a grin on his face. "I came on this show for one person, and one person only.” He clarifies, dropping your name. “...I treated her terribly in the past, and I know it." He admits, having the audacity to look sorrowful. "I was young, stupid, and I made a lot of mistakes. But I'm a completely changed person now, and I'm here to prove that to her. I just want a second chance to show her that the guy who hurt her...isn't who I am anymore. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to win her back."

Your jaw is clenched so hard it looks like stone. Your eyes are shooting absolute daggers at Mattheo. 

Confessional : You "I am pissed." You seethed. "I do not speak to him for a reason. I don't want him here.” You shook your head, lips parted. “Why would I? This is the guy who used to constantly shame me. He put me through hell, cheated on me multiple times, and he made me feel like I was absolutely nothing." You ranted, hands moving wildly. "I spent a long, painful time building myself back up from the mental suffering and the emotional dents that he left on my soul. And you guys throw him in here like a new doll in a Barbie dreamhouse.” You emphasize every word, eyes narrowed. “Seeing him walk through those doors... it feels like it just sends me back a thousand steps. I hate that he's here. I really do."

You stand completely frozen, your mind racing a million miles a minute. Your eyes flicker away from Mattheo’s gaze, landing on the grass as a sickening realization hits you.

You turn towards the girls, eyes wide. "Wait, if they're here..." you think aloud, heart dropping into your stomach as you point to the five new boys. "That means the guys are also..." you trail off as the girls listen, also putting the pieces together as your shoulders finally slump in defeat. "That means—"

"SOFIA," Rafe breathes, brows furrowed.

Rafe is standing amongst the villa boys, body tense, eyes wide with shock and a boiling kind of intense anger.

He isn't smiling. At all.

He actually looks like he’s about to punch through a wall.

Standing right in front of him, smiling softly with a perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip, is Sofia, his infamous ex, with her long, dark cascading hair, soft, striking facial features, and stunning figure.

"Hi, Rafe." Sofia says softly, biting her lip softly.

Confessional : Sofia "Hi, I'm Sofia, I'm twenty-three, and I work as a bartender back in North Carolina." She wiggles her fingers, blushing. "And yes... I am Rafe's ex-girlfriend. The one that's been apparently causing so many problems." She rolls her eyes. "I came on Love Island for one specific reason—to get my man back.” She shrugs cutely, looking briefly at the ceiling. “I really, really miss what Rafe and I had. We had a history, we know everything about each other, and I know that deep down, he still cares about me." She declares. "I know he thinks he's building a new connection with...I forgot her name," She giggles, doubling over before composing herself. "But, I know him. He just needs a little...reminder of what we used to be."

On the other hand, Rafe is pacing, running a frustrated hand through his hair, his chest heaving. He looks completely livid.

Confessional : Rafe "Sofia?" He criticizes. "Out of every. single. girl on the planet, you bring her here?” He seethes. “Why? And what does she even want?" He emphasized, voice sharp. “I'm pissed. I know exactly why she's here. And it's for all the wrong reasons, and reasons I, quite frankly, don't give a fuck about." He throws his hands up, reeling back. "And I know she is going to try her absolute hardest to throw a fucking wrench into everything. And the worst part? I know how this shit works." He scoffs. "I didn't even want to come here. I was happy where I was. But I already know this gonna stir some shit up regardless and there isn't a fucking thing I can do about it until I see her again," Rafe sighs, groaning and mumbling under his breath before staring blankly at the camera as a horrifying thought suddenly hits him. "Wait... hold on. If our exes are here... does that mean— Oh, fuck me.”

Standing on the Casa Amor deck are four other girls, the guys looking as the next girl steps forward. Piercing blue eyes, flowing blonde hair, and a flawless, tanned physique. “Hi." She smiles, swaying on her feet in a yellow gingham-patterned bikini. "I’m Delaney.”

Confessional : Delaney "Hey y'all, I'm Delaney," She squeals, kicking her feet. "I'm twenty-one, I'm a model living in South Carolina, and I'm so excited to finally be here! I'd definitely describe myself as a classic southern belle, but don't let the sweet accent fool you," She lowers her gaze, peering through her lashes. "I know exactly what I want.” She winks. “I came here to find true love, and hey, if it helps further my modeling career a little bit, I'm not going to complain!” She laughs. “But I need a man who is completely devoted to me. In the past, I've dealt with guys who just couldn't keep their eyes to themselves, *cough* JJ," she throws in, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "And I am totally over it."

JJ is scratching the back of his neck, looking incredibly stressed as he forces a tight, awkward laugh. 

Confessional : JJ "Man, Delaney... that's a blast from the past." He laughs awkwardly. "Look, it's already kind of known that I used to be a player. When Delaney and I were...'together', she really thought she could be the one to break me out of that lifestyle. But the truth is, I just wasn't ready. She would constantly catch me looking a little too long at other girls, flirting with other girls, and it just made things impossible. We had some really great times, don't get me wrong, but she could tell I wasn't ready for a real relationship, and honestly, she wasn't really ready for the reality of being with me either."

“Um, hi?” a girl steps forward—sharp, beautiful features, long dark hair, and an incredibly sophisticated aura. “I’m Kaitlyn, if anyone cares.” She introduces herself, breaking some of the ice with the lighthearted interjection, eyes traveling to one boy in particular, nodding once in his direction. “Nice to see you, John B.”

Confessional : Kaitlyn "Hi, I'm Kaitlyn, I'm twenty-two, and I'm a junior tech lawyer from San Francisco.” She smiles brightly, flipping her hair over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes. “My dating life up to this point has basically been a series of incredibly safe, predictable choices that honestly bore me to tears.” She laughs, covering her mouth. “I am so tired of the corporate, buttoned-up guys—preppy, competitive pricks who thinking competing with me in workplaces is some kind of flirtation tactic. I came here because I want to find someone who makes me feel just a little bit...reckless.” She teases, sliding her tongue across her teeth. 

John B stands in front of the girls, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. 

Confessional : John B "Kaitlyn is an amazing girl, really smart, but the reason we didn't work out is completely on me.” He groans. “I just wasn't very attentive to her. Plus, she's a junior tech lawyer, so she was already swamped with work to begin with, and whenever we actually did manage to find time to spend together, I was distracted or doing my own thing." He admits painfully. "It wasn't the quality time she hoped for. She always said she felt like an afterthought to me most of the time.” He grimaces. “There's no real hard feelings between us, at least that's what she says, but I know for a fact she would never date me again. She deserves someone who actually puts her first, and I'm focused on Sarah anyway."

The next bombshell steps up, a striking woman—incredibly tall, athletic, and gorgeous, with a fierce presence. ”Heyyy, boys,” She greets, wiggling her fingers at the guys. “I’m Haja.”

Confessional : Haja "Hey everyone, I'm Haja, I'm twenty-five, and I'm a professional dancer from Houston, Texas, baby!” She exclaims, a bright, inviting smile on her face. “I've spent the last few years of my life completely living out of a suitcase, touring all over the world with some of the biggest musical artists in the industry. And, though I’m eternally grateful, it's been impossible for me to build a real emotional connection with anyone.” She pouts, tilting her head. “I'm always just a passing moment in someone's life. I came here because I'm ready to stop being a side note. I want to be the main event."

Miles stands back, his jaw tight as he watches Haja talk to the group, trying to appear composed as he glares her down. 

Confessional : Miles "Uh, yeah, Haja and I dated for a bit.” He scratches at his chin. “It just really wasn't a good fit at the end of the day. She was touring constantly, never around, and it's hard to maintain anything real when someone is on the other side of the country every single week." He chuckles, but it’s off—nervous.

Confessional : Haja "Miles is going to play the victim, I already know it.” She deadpans. “But the truth about our relationship is that Miles was manipulative as hell, especially emotionally." She rolls her eyes, curling her lip up in disgust. "If I did the slightest thing wrong—even if it was totally accidental and I apologized for it, he would spend the next two weeks doing petty, malicious shit just to make me upset.” She snarled. “He was so tit-for-tat, always keeping score. I'm not here to win him back at all. I'm here to find a new, real man."

Then the final casa girl steps forward—a stunning figure, dark eyes, and a sultry expression. “Hello, boys,” She greets, looking them all up and down, voice smooth. “I’m Winnie.”

Confessional : Winnie "I can’t believe I’m here!” She squeals, looking around. “I'm Winnie, I'm twenty-two, from Miami, and I am a total, undeniable, unapologetic hopeless romantic.” She admits, smiling. “The Miami dating scene is brutal, and I have been ghosted one too many times by guys who just want a quick fling. I'm looking for a guy who is one hundred percent focused on me, someone who isn't intimidated by a girl who knows what she wants, and isn’t afraid to be a little bit possessive over what's theirs.” She shrugs. “If I like you, and you like me, I want everyone to know it."

Pope looks completely stunned, his eyes wide as he looks at Winnie. 

Confessional : Pope "Winnie and I... we got along pretty well, at first. She's great.” He admits, shoulders in the air. “But the main issue was that I constantly felt like a second choice to her. She had this ex-boyfriend that she was still close friends with, and they would text and hang out pretty frequently. There were multiple times where I felt like she put his needs above mine. It got to a point where I just had to find the courage to end things. We haven't spoken a single word since the breakup, so seeing her here is definitely wild."

BACK in the main villa, the five new, yet not-so-new, boys are awkwardly standing around, trying to make small talk with all of you girls who, mostly, look like you're ready to launch them into the sun.

Before anyone can say anything, the click of high heels echoes and you look up as Ariana walks gracefully out onto the pool deck, wearing a stunning dress. 

"Hi, girls," Ariana says, her voice echoing as she waves and you all cheer at her arrival. "And hello, boys. Welcome to the villa."

You all gather around the fire pit as she asks you to, the tension thick.

You make sure to sit as far away from Mattheo as physically, sandwiching yourself between Sarah and Kiara as Mattheo takes a seat on the complete opposite end, his eyes tracking your every move, which only makes your skin crawl.

Confessional : You Your lip is curled, head ducking in irritation. “Does he have a staring problem or what?”

"Ladies, I know these are some very... familiar faces," Ariana starts speaking, raising an eyebrow at the girls. "But let's not beat around the bush. Girls, how are we feeling right now?"

Sarah takes the opportunity to speak first, letting out a breathy, nervous laugh and glancing quickly at Thomas. "I mean... shocked.” She says truthfully. “Completely shocked. Seeing him walk through those doors was the last thing I ever expected. It's definitely weird."

You all hum in agreement as Ariana turns. "Kiara?" She prompts.

Kiara’s face is tight as she shrugs awkwardly. "Awkward. Very awkward.” She winces at her own words. “There are a lot of unanswered questions sitting across from me right now." She hisses, not even look at Theodore, but he just keeps that same lazy smile on his face.

"And you?" Ariana turns her gaze directly to you.

Your jaw clenches again, tongue swiping over your teeth as you think. "I'm pissed.” You grit out, an unamused smile on your face. “To be honest. I don't think it’s a secret that my past relationship was...shitty.” You say, glaring directly at Mattheo. “I spent a long time healing from it, and having him stand in front of me right now sorta feels like a sick joke."

Mattheo flinches slightly at your words, his calm facade cracking for just a fraction of a second, but he quickly recovers, looking down at his hands.

Ariana nods sympathetically. "I understand this is incredibly intense for all of you.” She gazes around, hands clasped. “But there is a reason behind this madness, and you are not the only ones in this predicament.” She starts, voice dropping. “Right now, over at Casa Amor, the boys have just arrived... and they have been greeted by five new bombshells who just so happen to be their exes."

Scoffs, sighs, humorless laughs—they all leave the five of you at once.

"Fuck," you whisper, closing your eyes for a second. 

Rafe is with Sofia. 

The girl whose name alone had nearly pushed the two of you apart, amongst other things. Regardless, your chest aches with anxiety, not knowing what the fuck was bound to happen from here.

"Now," Ariana continues, her tone turning serious. "As Casa Amor kicks off, I will require every single one of you to be in a new couple.” She looks around, eyes narrowed. “However, the decision of who you couple up with for the duration of Casa Amor will come down to a public vote. Because of that, the official coupling vote won't be happening today.” She reveals, and you all feel at least a little relieved. “You will have exactly twenty-four hours, as singles, to get to know the guys and explore new connections, then the public will decide who they think you fit best with."

Ariana smiles as you all whisper, the guys too, giving you all one last look before turning on her heel. "The villa is yours." She narrows her eyes, winking goodbye. "Good luck."

The moment Ariana walks out of the villa, you all turn to the boys.

"Okay," Cleo says, standing first and stepping forward with her hands on her hips. "We need to debrief. Go...inside, go by the gym, go wherever—just give us thirty minutes. Alone." She tells the boys, cocking an authoritative eyebrow at them all.

The boys look at each other, nodding awkwardly. Thomas clears his throat, "Yeah, totally. Take your time," And they head inside toward the kitchen, leaving the five of you alone on the outdoor daybeds.

The second they’re out of sight, you collapse into a tight circle on the biggest daybed.

"Guyssss," Sarah whines, kicking her feet and pouting. "Thomas?! He looks so good, you guys, I hate it! But John B is literally with his ex right now." Her face twists in sadness. "I'm losing my mind. Ugh."

You all dismiss her, laughing and rolling your eyes.

"Okay, I feel like we should dish everything out," Rima says, trying to bring some order. "Honestly, if anyone wants my opinion, Justin is a pretty green flag, if any of you were interested in going after him. Nothing ended terribly between me and him, we're still friends, and Sarah, you said you and Thomas still text, so I’m assuming you’re in the same boat?"

Sarah nods, crossing her legs under her. “Yeah, Thomas is great guy. Really, I was the problem. I didn’t want to be in a relationship, so we just kept leaving and coming back until he decided he didn’t want to be in that loop anymore. I couldn’t blame him.” She shrugged. “Kind of regret it, now, though. Ugh, he’s hot!”

"I can’t say much good about Theodore," Kiara scoffs, shaking her head. "He’s got a good heart, but he literally ghosted me the second I caught feelings.

“Brandon did the exact same thing to me,” Cleo interjected. “We were good, then a better job came along somewhere across the country and we never spoke again." She shrugs, her expression hardening. "Brandon can look as pretty as he wants with those new tattoos, but I'm not stupid.”

Then, all four girls turn their eyes to you.

"And then there's Mattheo," Sarah says softly. "You don’t seem to…like him.”

“I hate him.” You scoffed, leaning back on your hands. “He’s an absolute piece of shit and I have no idea why he’s here or what he wants, but I don’t care."

"As you shouldn’t," Sarah says, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "We are all praying for whatever poor girl the public decides to pair him up with. I just pray to God it isn't you."

“How bad was the break-up?” Rima digs in, looking at you.

You sighed. “It wasn’t even the break-up that soured everything. It was the relationship. It sucked to begin with, but,” You shrugged, shaking your head. “I was young, dumb, and blind. Just know, he’s a liar and a master manipulator.” You warn. “He is evil. Just trust me.”

You didn’t really feel 100% comfortable opening to them all about your past with Mattheo and turning this debrief into a support group. You didn’t want to be pitied, right now. 

"Well, if the public pairs you up with him, they are genuinely sick," Sarah says, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, babes. If you get stuck with him, we’ll sleep out on the daybeds with you so you don't have to be near him.” She comforts. “I know we aren’t Rafe, so we don’t have a wall of abs and biceps that conquer mountains—

“Watch it,” you warned her playfully, a small smile on your face. “Or I’ll start to think I have to worry about you trying to steal him, too.” You joked, the girls laugh.

 “Ew, gross. Never. I see that man as a brother," Sarah laughs out, finishing her sentence. “But seriously, we’ve got your back.”

Your eyes well up with a pool of grateful, yet angry, tears, and you nod. "Well, thank you. Seriously.” You nod. “I just... I don’t know, seeing him brings back so many horrible memories. I don't even want to hear his voice." You let out a shaky breath, looking out toward the pool as your jaw clenches. "And I can't stop thinking about Rafe.” You sigh, shoulders slumping. “You guys know how much of a sore topic his ex was between us. He told me about her, and it took a lot for him to open up about how much she used him. And I feel really, really confident in Rafe's loyalty to me, but I just don't know about Sofia. I don't know what kind of person she is, what manipulative game she might be playing to get him back, and it's making me so anxious, my stomach hurts..."

"I get it," Sarah sighs, leaning her head on your shoulder. "I mean, it just came out that John B was in communication with his ex right before he came on the show? Now that she’s sitting with him at Casa... I'm so nervous. I don't know if there's, like, some unresolved shit there."

"I don't know how to feel," Kiara mutters, staring at her lap. "That spreadsheet stuff really turned me off from JJ. I feel like I can only hope and pray that he thinks about me before he does anything reckless, but I feel like that’s a very high hope. I just pray he isn't thinking with his dick..."

Cleo cuts in, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm really not all that nervous about Miles. I don't really care what he does over there, to be fair. Our connection has been rocky, anyway.” She admits. “I'm going to put my energy into getting to know these new guys, because I almost 100% sure that Miles is not a safe bet or someone I even want. He’s probably sweet talking someone right now."

"I feel you,” Rima jumps in, crossing her legs, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I'm still interested in getting to know Pope," Rima says with a slight shrug. "But honestly, I'm just not sure he would pick me over another girl at the moment. No offense, Cleo, but he is still clearly into you.” She motions, and Cleo just nods, an expression that says ‘fair’ on her face. “But hey, maybe him being obsessed with you will actually ensure my safety.” Rima jokes. “I don't think Pope would bring another girl back when he’s already stuck between two here." She pauses, rolling her eyes. "But... you never know what men will do."

BY late afternoon, there’s music bumping, and the villa is lively—a celebration thrown in honor of the boys' arrival. Drinks are flowing, the sun is blazing, and everyone is lounging around the pool and yard.

Despite the initial shock, as the hours tick by and you all focus on just treating the boys like regular bombshells rather than ghosts of your past, the mood starts to lighten.

Thomas gravitates toward the daybeds, but instead of pulling Sarah, his eyes are locked on Kiara. He sits next to her, flashing a bright smile, completely charmed by her laughter. Turns out, he’d actually known of her already. Living in California, he’d heard of her organizations and environmental efforts, and you think he’d been using that as the point of conversation for the last two hours.

Meanwhile, Theodore, true to his alleged mysterious nature, lounges by the edge of the pool, his torso dripping with water. He splits his time trying to spark up a conversation with Sarah for a while, but his gaze constantly wanders over to you. 

He eventually pulls you up for a brief chat by the outdoor bar.

"You look beautiful, if I didn’t tell you already," Theodore says, his slight Italian accent smooth as he hands you a drink. "I saw a few of the episodes before I came in. I see you've been having a tough time with the drama here."

"I'm managing," you say politely. 

“How’s the relationship with…”

“Rafe.” you tell him, nodding.

“Yes, Rafe,” Theo perks up, sipping his own drink.

“Good,” You nod. “Better.” Your smile grows wider, looking up at the boy in front of you. "I think we were getting back to normal, to something solid, before…"

Theodore just chuckles, taking a sip of his drink. "Solid can crack.” He shrugs. “And I like a challenge, piccola."

“P-what?” You laugh, almost spitting out your drink. “What did you just call me?”

Theo smirks, ducking his head as he laughs. “Piccola,” he reiterates. “It’s Italian. It translates to ‘little one’, but culturally it’s used the same as ‘baby’ in English.” He explains, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re cute when you’re confused.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to actually speak Italian, for one.” You admit honestly, leaning more comfortably against the bar.

“Why’s that?” He presses.

You shrug. “I don’t know, maybe I thought you were being a little performative.” You tease. 

“Nah,” Theo shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “I just don’t speak it often. But for a girl like you, I’m trying to use everything I’ve got.”

You grow silent as your cheeks grow warm, ducking your head to shield your gaze, grounding yourself as Rafe sticks to the back of your mind. Theo was cute, charming—but he wasn’t him.

On the other side of the deck, Brandon was turning on the charm, making Rima laugh as he tells a story about a botched tattoo he had to fix back in Brooklyn. Justin and Cleo are standing right beside them, his eyes are glued to Cleo as she speaks, completely captivated by her.

And then, there's Mattheo. 

He tries multiple times to approach you after you conclude your chat with Theo, walking over with a fresh drink or trying to catch your eye. But every single time he gets within a three-foot radius of you, you immediately stand up, walk away, or strike up a conversation with someone else. 

You give him absolutely zero time of day, icing him out.

AS the sun begins to set, you’re all wrapped up deep in a game of Truth or Dare.

Everyone has circled up on the giant outdoor cushions surrounding the fire pit. It doesn't take long for the game to take a typical turn—dares starting out innocent but quickly escalating into something more intimate.

Justin gets dared to give Cleo a lap dance, which leaves Cleo laughing and fan-girling as he grinds against her, his chest flexing. 

Rima gets dared to share a thirty-second kiss with Brandon, and she doesn't hold back at all, pulling him in by his neck for a breathless make-out session that leaves the rest of the group cheering, jaws on the floor.

However, when it comes to you and Sarah, the boundary is pretty firmly drawn.

Theodore turns his dark eyes to Sarah. "Sarah, truth or dare?"

"Truth," Sarah says instantly, not wanting to risk anything.

"Is there any part of you that wants to see if what you and Thomas had in the past can beat what you have with John B right now?" Theodore asks smoothly.

Sarah doesn't even hesitate. "No.” She answers easily. “Thomas is a great guy, but the past is the past for a reason."

A few turns later, Mattheo looks directly at you, his voice low. "Truth or dare?"

"Skip," you say coldly, staring directly past him.

"Come on, just a dare," Mattheo pushes, trying to look vulnerable.

"So, when I said skip, I classified that as a no," you snap, your voice sharp enough to cut glass. “You should be used to rejection, no?” 

The circle goes quiet for a second as you turn away from him, staring at the fire. You’re completely unwilling to step outside of your couple and you are damn sure unwilling to interact with this urchin across from you. 

You respect Rafe, and yourself, way too much to let him get to you, even for a game.

Kiara gets dared to body-roll against Theodore, and for a moment, she hesitates, her gut screaming at her. She wants to respect her coupling with JJ, but that humiliating spreadsheet challenge from yesterday is still burning a hole in her mind. So, with a tight jaw, she completes the dare, grinding briefly against Theodore, but she pulls away quickly.

WHEN night falls, the realization hits that everyone is technically single, and the bedroom situation needs to be figured out.

During the discussion, Kiara, Sarah, and yourself stand firm. 

"We’re sleeping on the daybeds tonight," Kiara announces. “Sorry, boys.”

You still weren’t sure where you stood with her. There was still lingering tension between you, Cleo, and her—but you took Rima’s advice straight. She was right, this experience was too short to spend the whole time mad at each other. So, you were cordial, but you weren’t overly friendly, as you once were.

Cleo and Rima look out at the dark courtyard, mosquitoes and fireflies already buzzing. "Uhhh," Cleo says, shivering slightly. "I love you all down to the ground, but I am absolutely not looking forward to getting bit up by bugs tonight. Would you feel some type of way if we didn't sleep out there with you?"

You shook your head. "No, it's totally cool, go inside, it’s okay" you reassure them with a smile, waving them off.

Rima grins mischievously, grabbing Cleo’s arm, whispering to her as an idea came to mind. "Watch this. Come,"

The two of them sprint right into the bedroom where the five boys are unpacking. Rima claps her hands loudly. "Sorry, boys, but you gotta pack it up. You guys can’t just come in here and steal our beds. We’d like a peaceful night before we’re forced to share a bed with you anyway, so, move it.” She throws them out, a smile on her face. “You are sleeping on the daybeds tonight. These beds belong to us."

The boys let out a chorus of groans and laughs, but Brandon raises his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, fair enough," The guys grab their blankets and head outside to the daybeds.

Rima and Cleo then run back out to inform the trio of you before the guys come trailing out, shoving each other onto the daybeds as you all bid them goodnight and head inside. As you walk into the bedroom, you can’t help but just stand and stare at your and Rafe's empty bed, a pout forming on your face as you throw yourself face first into the mattress, splayed out like a starfish.

“My shaylaaaa,” you whine, voice muffled as the girls giggle around you, watching you flip over, now on your back, staring sadly at the ceiling. "I can still smell his cologne on the sheets," you pout as you clutch his pillow to your chest.

"You are so dramatic," Cleo laughs, throwing a pillow at you.

You sit up, chewing your lip, your playful pout turning into a genuinely vulnerable look. "Seriously though... do you think he's sleeping alone tonight?” You ask, looking so child-like as you peer at them all. “Like... what do you think is happening at Casa?"

Sarah’s expression softens, and she walks over to sit on the edge of the mattress. "Girl, please. They couldn't tear you two apart if they tried.” She reassures. “You and Rafe are completely inseparable. He’s probably losing his mind right now wishing he was here with you, being disgustingly engrossed in each other."

"Seriously," Cleo adds, leaning against the doorframe, a small laugh on her lips. "Rafe looks at you like you're the only woman left on earth. Have some faith, babe."

You let out a soft sigh, hugging the pillow tighter. "Thanks” You sigh. “I'm pretty sure all of our guys are doing great out there. I have faith in them."

They all agree with your high spirits, save for Cleo and Kie, who are undoubtedly doubting their partners the most.

THE next morning arrives with the familiar blinding light and heat of the sun. You wake up, your neck aching slightly from not having Rafe’s chest or arm to lean on. But the real ache is in your chest. It feels incredibly weird not waking up wrapped in Rafe’s embrace, again, and not hearing him grumble about the light, not having him kiss your forehead or pull you back into him. 

Your mood is evidently dampered, a blanket of sadness settling over you.

You and the rest of the girls eventually drag yourselves to change and get ready. As you're sitting at the vanity, the door opens, and the new boys walk in, carrying plates of breakfast they each made for you all.

Thomas smiles warmly, walking over to Kiara and handing her a beautifully stacked plate of eggs and toast. “I wasn’t sure what to make, but—” he scratches the back of his neck as Kiara smiles, touched. 

"No, this is great. Thank you, Thomas."

Theodore walks in next, holding a beautifully arranged small fruit platter. He sets it down carefully between you and Sarah. "Buongiorno," he says smoothly, giving you a lingering look as you crane your neck to look at him.

“Thanks,” Sarah says, offering a smile before returning to her hair. He’d expressed interest in the both of you last night, but you figured he’d decided to focus on you since Sarah shut him down, claiming he just “wasn’t her type.”

“Let me guess, ‘good morning’?” You ask playfully, a smirk growing on his face as he plants his hands on the back of your chair.

“Sì,” he smiles, looking down at you. “You’re a fast learner.”

You just shrug cockily, taking a bite of an apple slice as he stares at you.

Brandon walks in with a plate of breakfast for Rima, making her cheer as he walks toward her, biting her lip. Meanwhile Justin brings Cleo a perfectly made iced coffee with a heart-shaped pancake, flashing his smile.

Then, the door opens one last time.

Mattheo walks into the room, holding a single mug of coffee. The room goes completely silent for second as they glance at you, then him, then try and return to their conversations as to not make this more awkward than it already is.

Mattheo clears his throat, walking over to the vanity where you're sitting. He sets the mug down right next to your makeup bag. "Here," he says, his voice quiet, trying to sound gentle. "Black with just a splash of oat milk and a spoonful of sugar. Just how I remember you like it."

You don't say a word. You don't even look up at him. You keep your eyes entirely locked on your mirror, applying your lip gloss as if he isn't even there.

Realizing he isn't getting a response, Mattheo swallows hard, nods awkwardly, and turns around, walking out of the room as the other guys follow, bidding farewells and 'see you later's', and letting the door shut behind him.

The second the click of the door echoes, you stand up. You pick up the warm mug of coffee by the handle, face completely blank. You walk into the en-suite bathroom, lean over the sink, and pour the contents of the mug straight down the drain.

Outside the bathroom door, the girls erupt into shocked gasps and hysterical laughter, still fiddling with their hair and makeup.

"Oh my," Cleo laughs, clapping her hands.

You walk back into the bedroom, setting the empty mug down with a cold scoff. "I can't stand his ass." You snarl as you sit back down at the vanity, a reluctant smirk breaking across your face. "And he didn't even make it right.” You scoff. “Probably remembering some other bitch's coffee order."

The girls get choked up with laughter, doubling-over as you fight your own amusement, the tension breaking.

Before you can even finish eating your fruit platter, a familiar text alert chimes.

“Aw, damn,” Cleo pouts, knowing what was coming as you flipped open your phone, reading the text aloud.

Girls, please gather around the fire pit immediately. It’s time to hear the voice of the public. #ThePublicHasSpoken

YOUR stomach drops and you all head out to the fire pit, taking your seats—girls on one end, guys on the other, looking equally nervous.

Ariana walks out, looking at you all with a serious expression. "Good morning, Islanders,” she greets, a smile on her face. “Yesterday, I told you that the public would be voting on which connections they want to see explored. And today, I have the results.” She drags out, meeting each of your eyes. “When I call your name, I will reveal who the public has officially coupled you up with for the duration of Casa Amor."

The silence stretches, and you all avoid each other’s eyes, nervous.

After at least a full minute’s silence, Ariana speaks. "Sarah,” she calls. “The public sees a spark of unresolved chemistry, but they also want to see a potentially fresh start. They have spoken and coupled you up…with Thomas." 

You all clap lightly and Sarah nods, giving Thomas a polite, friendly smile.

Sarah and Thomas walk up and join hands halfway, standing next to Ariana, in front of you all. “Sarah, Thomas—how do you feel about what the public voted?”

Sarah purses her lips, standing politely beside Thomas. “I’m not sure,” She admits honestly, looking down. “I just think we left the past in the past and I’m okay with that.”

Thomas nods. “I agree. I’ll always have love for Sarah but I think our fire fizzled out a long time ago.” He laugh nervously, looking down briefly.

Ariana shoots them a pitiful look. “Well, either way, congratulations to you two.” She says, turning back to face the rest of you.

"Cleo,” she calls out. “The public loves your fierce energy, and they want to see if a certain model can handle it. They have coupled you up with... Justin." 

Cleo beams, clearly thrilled, while Justin flashes a proud smile. They both stand up and Justin extends his hand out for her to take as they join Sarah and Thomas.

“Congratulations to you both,” Ariana smiles. “How are you feeling?”

Cleo smiles, bigger than she has in a while. “I’m excited,” she admits. “I think he’s sexy, obviously,” she says, eliciting a chorus of small giggles. “And I think we made some great conversation yesterday, so I’m happy.”

“Justin?”

“I’m happy, yeah, I’m happy.” He smiles, looking down at Cleo, their hands still intertwined. “Cleo’s great, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like her, so I’m excited to see where this goes.”

“That’s amazing to hear,” Ariana cooes, turning back to the remainder of you—Kiara, Rima, you, beside Theodore, Brandon, and Mattheo.

"...Kiara." Ariana's eyes flicker to the girl. "The public wants to see how you handle the vegas bad boy.” She teases. “They have officially coupled you up with... Mattheo. Would you both please join the other two couples?"

Kiara’s jaw drops and for the first time in days, she makes eye contact with you before snapping her gaze towards Mattheo whose jaw is clenched. She lets out a disgusted groan under her breath, only loud enough for you and Rima to hear. Rima squeezes her shoulder, while you sit, feeling an immediate wave of gratitude that it wasn't you, but feeling horrible that she got stuck with him.

Kiara and Mattheo stand and they walk side by side to join the other couples, not making contact as Mattheo clasps his hands in front of him and Kiara mindlessly fixes her dress.

“What are your thoughts?” Ariana asks once again. “Do you agree with the public’s decision?”

Kiara immediately responds. “Absolutely not.” She scoffs, offering no further elaboration.

Mattheo chews the inside of his cheek, ignoring her comment. “I’d have to agree. I think Kiara’s a great girl…but she’s not who I came for.” He says, eyes glued to you.

All you do is glare at him before abruptly ripping your eyes away, figuring he didn’t even deserve the luxury of simply even looking at you.

“Well, hopefully, the two of you can find some common ground,” Ariana throws out, pitifully. "Rima," she continues. "The public wants to see if you might be able to tame a certain flight risk. They have coupled you up with... Brandon."

Rima beams, winking at Brandon, who grins back as they rise and take each other’s hand, joining the other couples.

"That leaves our final single girl." Ariana looks at you, her head held high. "The public thinks you have unmatched chemistry with a certain boy in another villa, but they want to see if it holds up in the presence of a certain charming Italian.” She amuses, everyone around letting out small laughs. “They voted to couple you up with... Theodore."

You let out a massive sigh of relief. Theodore. Thank God. Anyone but Mattheo. 

Theodore gives you a slow, reassuring nod from across the deck, standing up to walk over and help you up, the two of you walking in sync to join the other couples.

“You two look happy,” Ariana eggs on. “What are we thinking?”

“I’m happy,” Theodore smiles, but his smiles always look like smirks. “I’ve had my eye on her since we walked in, so I’m hoping I can leave a lasting impression, maybe get her to take me home with her.”

You smile, ducking your head as Ariana calls your name and you look up, opening your mouth to speak. “It could be worse,” you throw out, eyes flashing towards Mattheo for less than a second. “But yeah, I’m excited to get to know Theodore. He's been nothing but sweet to me.” You nodded.

You kept it calm, civil. You didn’t want to be stuck up and rude but you also didn’t want to give off the wrong impression.

Because you missed Rafe, you wanted Rafe. 

"Well, congratulations.” Ariana nods, examining all of the couples. “And good luck. To you all.”

AFTER Ariana departs, the villa fractures, all of the couples breaking apart to have private conversations.

Sarah and Thomas were sat by the daybeds, the vibe between them relaxed.

"Honestly," Sarah says, crossing her legs. "You know I don't have any negative feelings toward you at all, but I was kind of hoping the public would put me with someone else. I’m not really open to exploring anyway but, it would’ve been nice to explore a totally new connection here, not drag up a past that we both know didn't work out."

Thomas nods understandingly, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, no, I get it. No hard feelings at all.” He agrees. “To be honest... I’ve had my eye on Kiara. I really wanted to couple up with her but, I mean I can still pull her for chats and everything.” He shrugs. “Since I moved to California, I've heard so much about her and the things she does. I really admire her and she seems really passionate about it all, and I think she’s beautiful, of course."

Sarah’s eyes light up, a grin breaking across her face. She immediately pushes him toward her friend. "Oh my god, go for it!” She gushes. “Kie is amazing, and I mean we’ve had our differences and I think she’s definitely a bit lost, but honestly, you two would be so cute together. Go, go talk to her." She shoos him away.

OVER by the sun loungers, Cleo and Justin are non-stop smiling at one another, wrapped in each other’s presence and conversation. You'd never seen her click so fast with anyone, well, aside from Pope during the earlier days.

"I'm not gonna lie," Cleo says, leaning back with a smirk. "I’m actually really excited it was us. I’ve already told you that you’re my type ‘n everythin’. So, I’m happy, y’know? I’d like to get to know you..."

Justin smiles, his eyes locked on hers. "That makes two of us.” He flirts, sliding closer. “Honestly, when I first saw you, I thought you were almost like Rima, but in a completely different font. You both have that fierce, independent energy.” The statement makes Cleo’s face twist. “But I promise you, that's not the reason I'm pursuing you!” He defends. “I’m not that kinda guy. I think you're absolutely beautiful, and I want to see where we can go. But, I guess I was just saying that there’s no denying that I have type."

Rima walks past them, giving Cleo a cheeky thumbs-up and a wink. She had already given Cleo the ‘go’ earlier, assuring her she was completely over Justin and even putting in a good word for him.

OVER by the outdoor gym, one couple is completely miserable, though. Kiara is sitting on a weight bench, her arms crossed, looking at Mattheo with complete disinterest and disdain.

"Look, “ Kiara starts, her voice clipped. "I don’t know why they put me with you. Okay?"

Confessional : Kiara "Even if me and her might be at odds right now or not even really friends anymore... that does not mean I am ever going to get to know her piece of shit ex-boyfriend. Absolutely not. I get there are two sides to every story but she seems pretty adamant on the fact that he's a terrible person. And I'm not interested."

Mattheo keeps up his perfectly calm, collected demeanor, nodding slowly as if he’s a deeply enlightened man. "Look, Kiara, I completely understand why you're closed off towards me.” He nods. “I know I was a…dick, in the past. But I’m being completely honest when I say I came here to make amends with her. I figure if I can prove to the rest of you, first, that I've actually changed, maybe you guys can…I don't know, help put a good word in for me with her?"

Kiara just scoffs. “I don’t know what happened between you guys but, she seems to hate you and all you want is to get her back. I'm not exactly seeing where I fit into all of that...”

Mattheo sighs. "I'm not a bad guy," He pleads, face scrunching in desperation as he nearly pleads with the girl. "You want the truth? I can't stand to see her getting close to that guy—what's his—Rafe? Yeah, Rafe." He throws his name out there, the sound sounding not far from the hiss of an angry snake. "I was stuck watching her oogle him on an 85-inch flat screen for two weeks. I just...it made me realize how much I miss her."

Kiara groans. “Again, tough luck." She deadpans. "I don’t want to be stuck in the middle of that. And if she left you and still despises you all this time later, then I'm assuming she's gone for good reasons." She states, blunt. "You want advice? Either find someone else or just tell them you want to go home. But...just leave her alone. But, considering I can already see the type of persistent guy you are, I know you aren't going to listen to a word I just said, so, good luck.” And with that, she stands, rolling her eyes and walks away, leaving him standing alone.

MEANWHILE, Rima and Brandon are chatting by the pool bar, and you swear you've never seen Rima with literal stars in her eyes until today.

"I think you're really cute," Rima says straightforwardly, sipping her drink. "You're definitely not my typical type, and honestly, I'm kind of scared you might still be as flaky as Cleo says you were. But... I'm open to seeing what happens."

Brandon smiles softly, his tatted arms resting on the counter. "I think you're beautiful, Rima. I love your personality, too.” He says earnestly. “I don't still have those same romantic feelings for Cleo, but I really do want to apologize to her, at least, for ghosting her the way I did." His face falls. "I was pretty selfish back then. I just want to clear the air but if she shoots me down, I completely understand. I won't push it.” He tells her. “But honestly, my real interest is in you. I mean, from the moment I watched you come in, I started counting down the days until I knew I'd get the chance to get to know you."

"Oh," Rima perks up. "So, you guys have been watching us?"

Brandon nods. "Hell yeah," He laughs. "They have us locked up in a hotel room for weeks before they set us free. All we can do is watch you all."

Rima hums, looking around because fixing him with a playful, pointed stare. "So?" She shrugs, cocking a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "What are your thoughts?"

The man pretends to think, eyes never leaving her. "I think all of you women are probably the most attractive women I've ever seen in my life, for one." He offers honestly. "Looks and personality wise, for that matter. But, the guys?" He winces. "I think you could all do a lot better..."

"Does that 'better' happen to be you?"

He smirks then, edging closer to her. "For you? Yeah, it does."

YOU and Theodore were sitting on the beanbags. You’ve come to learn over the past twenty-four hours or so that Theodore is pretty quiet, a little mysterious, and not very talkative, which makes you a little confused about him.

"I want to be completely honest with you," you say, looking him in the eye. "I am not entirely open. Rafe and I aren’t closed off but...he means a lot to me."

Theo hums, shifting. "Are you saying it would take a lot to get in between that?" He asks, but the words come out more challenging.

You dismiss the undertone, nodding and relaxing in your own seat.

Theodore nods, his dark eyes staring into yours. "I respect that. I understand. But I can’t deny that I do think you are incredibly beautiful.” His voice dips, damn near throwing everything you just said out of the window as his eyes bore into yours. “You caught my eye from the moment you came in on that first day and you haven't lost it once since." He flirts. "And seeing you in person?” He whistles, hand ghosting over your arm. “Jaw-dropping, really. And your personality tops it all off.”

Confessional : Theodore "I get it. She's loyal to Rafe, which is attractive, if I’m being honest—loyalty—but if she is entirely unwilling to break off that connection with him..." He lets his words die, shrugging. "but I’m hoping I can wear her down. We'll see how the next few days go."

IN the middle of the afternoon, as everyone is still scattered about, talking—that dreaded text chime rings through the villa.

“Oh, sh—I got a text!” Thomas shouted, a boyish grin on his face as he stands, voice loud.

Islanders, it's time to saddle up and show us what you've got. Welcome to the Rodeo Challenge! #HoldOnTight #BuckingBronco

IN the center of the lawn sits a massive mechanical bull surrounded by a giant inflatable protective ring.

The theme is wild-west sexy, and damn, did you look good. Everyone had their staples—cowboy hats, bandanas, leather belts, denim, paisley patterned patches.

The afternoon sun is blazing down on the villa, and the twangy beat of a country-pop song is already thumping through the outdoor speakers.

You all step out, clad in your wild-west glam, but the second you step out into the sunlight, every single eye in the villa glues itself to you. Your skin glows against the vibrant red gingham-patterned tie halter top, which loops into a bow in front of your cleavage and flawlessly frames your shoulders. 

The frayed denim shorts hug you perfectly, leaving very little to the imagination, while a wine-colored bandana swings and sways casually from your right back pocket. Atop your head sits a brown leather cowboy hat, casting a sultry shadow over your eyes. 

Still, everyone looked delicious.

Before anyone could speak, the text tone goes off, and Sarah goes fishing for her phone, reading the text aloud. 

Islanders, welcome to Raunchy Rodeo! The rules are simple—each of you must ride the mechanical bull for as long as possible, but you must do it in the absolute sexiest, most scandalous way possible. At the end of the challenge, the girls will vote on who the sexiest guy was, and guys will do the same for the girls."

“That’s it?” Sarah asked, face twisting.

“Right?” Kie jumps in. “I was hoping there was a catch.”

“Maybe you just gotta ride it and find out—” Thomas starts, attempting a joke as suddenly, a second alert blares from Sarah’s phone.

She gasps, reading the update aloud. "Wait!' She perks up, reading the new message

Islanders, the ride isn't over when you bite the dust. Once you're thrown from the bull, you must lasso your lover—grab the golden rope, choose one islander to sexily tie up, and seal the deal with a scandalous kiss!"

Just then, the bull comes to life, making you all flinch — gears whirring, all of your eyes go wide as it spins for a second, wondering how they hell you were supposed to stay planted on that thing.

“Oh, hell no,” Cleo scoffs, laughing as you all watch the bull spin wildly.

Suddenly, another text tone goes off, Rima digging her phone out of her shorts, taking a moment to read the text. “Well, I guess I'm up first,” She smiles, giddy, tucking her phone away. She struts up to the bull, stepping into the ring before saddling up.

Rima brings her typical confidence to the challenge, and the moment the bull starts spinning, she drops incredibly low onto the saddle, arching her back and leaning into the motion. She turns it into a literal dance routine—a slow, heavy chest-pop and a sexy wink right towards the boys', more specifically—Brandon, who blows a kiss right back. 

Everyone is cheering her on, watching her handle it like a pro until one swift swing has her flying off, laughing. “I did good!” She laughs, still on her back, sticking two thumbs in the air. You and the girls cheer her on still as she gets up and climbs out the ring, high-fiving her.

Scrambling out of the inflatable, Rima instantly snatches up the golden lasso on standby, and, with a wicked grin, she struts straight over to the boys' lineup, eyeing them all before throwing the loop over Brandon. She pulls the rope taut, winding it tightly around his waist to drag his chest flush against hers, before planting a hard kiss right on his lips.

Then Sarah’s device pings again, signaling her turn as she climbs onto the bull with a loud, giggling shriek, her blonde ponytail swinging, a pink bandana around her neck. The bull gives a sharp tilt, and Sarah’s almost flies straight off of it. She screams, clamping both eyes shut, holding onto the leather strap with both hands for dear life. She manages to give a cute ‘yee-haw!’ before the bull does a sudden spin, sending her sliding off into the inflatable after a solid fifteen seconds. 

She sits up, laughing hysterically, flipping the loose hairs out of her face.

Sarah grabs her rope with a giggling shriek as she marches right over to Brandon as well and playfully whips him with the rope, sliding it behind his neck, using the ends to tug him down. "Sorry, Rima, he's just too hot!" she laughs, leaning in to give him a fun, still relatively tame, kiss.

Confessional : Sarah "I couldn't help it!" She laughs. "None of the guys are really my type but it's something about those damn tattoos!"

Then, it’s Kiara’s turn and she steps up, playfully serving face as she steps into the ring. She mounts the bull confidently, gripping the rope with one hand while tossing her gorgeous curls back with the other. As the bull starts to buck, Kie rides smoothly, keeping her posture upright and arched, locking eyes with Thomas, giving him a sultry hair flip that has him cheering loudly from the sidelines.

Eventually though, her hand slips and the bull tilts back, sending her sliding off.

Though, she pops up from the padding, entirely unbothered, and grabs the rope, keeping her gaze locked onto Thomas. She saunters over and loops the rope around his shoulders, circling him before pulling him down to her level as she delivers a slow, lingering kiss that completely melts his goofy demeanor.

Confessional : Kie "Kissing him was way better than I thought," She bites her lip before seemingly realizing what she said, straightening out. "Not that I was thinking about it."

When it’s Cleo’s turn, she brings it all the way on—straddling the bull with a confident smirk, completely unfazed by the mechanical roaring beneath her and the unpredictable jerky movements. While holding on tightly, she leans all the way back until her curls practically touch the bull's back, sliding one hand slowly down the side of her thigh. It’s smooth, effortless, and has everyone damn near drooling.

You probably cheered the loudest watching her, if it weren't for Justin whose voice boomed over everyone’s, hyping her up. 

Though, you think he was the real reason she fell, because she was so busy laughing at his antics that she slipped and rolled off into the inflatable.

Cleo shakes her head, still laughing as she grabs her lasso. She struts directly toward Justin, slithering up and down his frame as she ties a harness around him in record time, so fast none of you really noticed until she was tugging him forward, lip tucked between her teeth. Justin seems all too happy to be at his mercy and she matches his energy with a passionate, jaw-dropping kiss that leaves him completely speechless and grinning like an idiot.

Then, you feel a vibration against your leg, pulling out your phone.

It’s your turn. Show ‘em what you’re made of! #ThisTownAintBigEnoughForAllOfUs

You can’t conceal your excitement as you pocket your phone and adjust the brim of your brown cowboy hat as the music thumps, your bandana swinging against your denim shorts as you saunter over to the bull.

But instead of mounting the bull normally, you swing your leg over the saddle, but you face the back, mounting the bull in reverse.

"Oh my god," Sarah squeals from the sidelines, slapping all of the girls arms. "She’s doing it backward! Yes!"

Instead of the leather strap behind you, you grab the bull’s tail, locking your thighs tightly around the seat. When the machine starts, you don't fight the bucking motion, you go along with it. And because you're facing reverse, the movement forces your body into a slow, mesmerizing roll of your hips. With every twist, spin, and jolt of the bull, you sway almost effortlessly.

You pinch the front of your cowboy hat, looking directly at the boys over your shoulder. The ghost of a smirk is plastered on your face, and the shadow of your cowboy hat cuts across your sharp expression. You have this undeniable, intoxicating aura and even more, you look completely breathtaking, dangerous, and sexy as hell. The bandana whips through the air as the bull speeds up, but you just hold your gaze right on the boys, completely unbothered. You stay on for, what has to be, almost a full minute before sliding off gracefully with one particularly harsh jolt, landing on your feet in the padding.

When your feet hit the ground, everyone is going wild—shouts and whistles as the girls all jump and crowd around you while you grab the rope.

Confessional : Theodore "Dio mio... backwards?” His eyebrows are wide in shock, pupils blown. “And when she looked right over her shoulder, fuck, I swear to you, for a split second, I forgot my own name."

Confessional : Mattheo "Yeah, that was…something.” He blushes, palming the back of his neck. “Hot is an understatement."

Confessional : Cleo "Listen... Mattheo. I understand it now, honey. I would want her back, too!” She bursts into a fit of hysterical laughter. “If I fumbled a literal goddess like that, I would also fly across the world, show up on a reality TV show, and beg on national television. It’s not like I didn’t get it before but, like, I get it now. We all get it. Ohh, I know that boy is pissy!"

Before the cheers can even die down, you grab your lasso, locking eyes with Theo, walking over with a confident smirk. You spin the rope with one hand, circling him , letting the rope restrict his arms against his torso, pulling his body flush against yours, and lean up to give him a kiss that leaves him visibly dazed and the rest of the villa screaming.

Once you’re done and settled and all of the girls have gone, a ping comes from the boy’s side, just before Thomas glances at his phone and steps up first for the boys, full of energy.

He starts off strong, yelling something hilarious, but his long legs work against him. The second the bull does a rough double-spin, his balance goes out the window. He gets launched off within ten seconds, doing a dramatic, theatrical roll into the ring that has all the girls screaming with laughter as the guys clap him on the back.

He scrambles up, laughing as he grabs the rope and stumbles over to Kie, playfully looping it around her waist and pulling her into a messy, but surprisingly sweet and sexy kiss that has her laughing against his lips.

Then, Theodore’s phone goes off and the guys cheer him on, patting him on the back as he climbs into the ring. And you’ll admit, seeing him damn near shirtless did things for you, watching as he mounts the bull slowly, keeping his unbuttoned flannel shirt flowing. He rides the machine, steady, his dark eyes locked on you the entire time. 

Everyone is clearly entranced and he’s obviously using his eyes—their darkness, they way their lidded in the sexiest way possible—to his advantage. 

Riding the bull doesn’t seem to be a struggle for him, and you’re almost certain that when he’s 'thrown off', he was really just bored and decided to get off, shooting a wink on his way out of the ring.

The second his feet hit the grass, he doesn't waste a single second. Theo grabs his lasso and walks straight toward you. Winding the rope securely around your waist as he yanks you firmly against his bare chest, pushing your cowboy hat up with the tip of his nose to see your face better.

You grin nervously, cheeks hot. "Hi," you breathe, and he chuckles, his dark eyes dropping to your lips before he leans down, delivering a breathtakingly sexy kiss that snatches the air from your lungs. He keeps it calm, though, stepping back with a smirk before returning to the boys' side.

Next, Mattheo steps up. Unfortunately, him being a dick didn’t negate the fact that he was a very attractive man—solid abs, an ever-present smirk on his face. But you ignore it all, everyone cheers him on and you just stand back with your arms crossed, glaring into his soul, making him feel just as uncomfortable as he once made you feel. He climbs on, glaring back in your direction, and attempts to ride the bull with only one hand tucked into his pocket. However, his posture is incredibly stiff. He misses the fun, playful vibe of the challenge entirely, looking tense and frustrated as he gets thrown off after twenty seconds and you scoff.

Mattheo rises up and grabs the rope, marching directly to you. Without a word, he wraps the rope around your wrists, tying your hands together before winding them tightly behind his own neck, forcing you close for a forceful kiss. But you don't give him the satisfaction.

With a cold, sharp smirk, you effortlessly slip right out of his knot as his lips move against your stiff ones, holding your hands up and letting to loose rope fall to the ground.

"You were never very good at that," you quip sassily, pushing him off you, casually wiping your lips with the back of your hand, leaving him standing there, sheepishly.

After Mattheo resettles with the guys, Justin’s phone goes off and its his turn. And he manages to turn his ride into a literal fitness magazine shoot. The second his feet touch the inflatable ring, he’s posing playfully, but he still makes it look good—shirtless, shorts hanging low on his hips. He jumps onto the saddle, and as the bull starts to move, he starts ticking off body-builder poses—flexing his biceps, and flashing his perfect smile at Cleo, even pointing a her.

And although, he gets flipped off after twenty seconds or so, Justin bounds up, grinning ear to ear as he grabs his lasso. He struts straight to Cleo, twirling the rope before wrapping it snugly around her hips. He pulls her into a deep and slow kiss, before slowly pulling back and walking away.

Last, Brandon walks up to the bull and just casually pulls his shirt off like its nothing, revealing more tattoos than you aware of. He was practically painted in them and the collective intake of breath from the girls, and the guys, is audible.

Brandon’s physique is other worldly—remarkably lean but packed with dense, hard muscle, and his abs are so sharply defined they look like they were carved out of stone. The intricate tattoos winding across his chest, up his neck, and completely coating both of his arms top it all off, making him look ruggedly beautiful.

But what completely wins you all over isn't just the body, it's his charm. As he mounts the bull, he isn't taking himself seriously at all—he grips the rope, his tatted torso flexing as he rolls with the bucking motion.

And then, he looks over at the girls and flashes this incredibly dazzling, dimple-ridden smile that completely softens his rugged look, making him look sweet, playful, and charming all at once. Every single one of you melts, there was no denying it. Rima bites her lip, and even Cleo tries her best to hide a massive grin as he rides the bull perfectly for nearly a minute before sliding off, giving a playful bow.

Brandon snatches up the lasso, dimples flashing as he walks over to Cleo. Instead of making it an awkward spectacle, he loops the rope loosely around her, using the close proximity to lean down and whisper a genuine, yet low-key apology to smooth things over.

It works beautifully, and Cleo’s eyes soften as she smiles, accepts the apology, and grants him a soft kiss. But knowing he's into Rima, Brandon smoothly steps over to her right after, planting a wet, playful kiss right on her cheek, making her giggle.

Confessional : Rima "I'm not mad he chose Cleo, it was friendly and he told me he wanted to smooth things over, which I admire. I think it's respectful." she says casually. "I just wish I was the one to get tied up." She winks

Confessional : Cleo

"Feeling Brandon's lips on mine for the first time in a long time had me feelin' a little hot, I can't lie!" Cleo laughs. "But, no, I did appreciate his apology. I wasn't expecting some serious sit down from him. He's not that kind of guy. I'm just glad we can be okay and move on."

As Brandon rejoins the guys, the text tone goes off another time, Justin pulling his phone from his shorts, reading the text aloud over the music. 

Islanders, it looks like that mechanical bull wasn’t the only thing getting completely turned on today... It’s now time to decide who actually knows how to handle a wild ride. Guy, vote for the sexiest girl. Girls, vote for the sexiest boy. #SaveAHorseRideABombshell #ExcellentHipAction 

The second the text comes through, you and the girls immediately huddle up, the guys circling each other as well.

"Whew, okay," Rima starts, fanning herself. "The bull was doing its thing, but my eyes were doing the most work." She jokes. "Who are y’all thinking?"

Sarah laughs at her antics, biting her lips. "...I think I might be a bit bias, but we can rule out Thomas in my opinion, because bless his heart, he looked like a helicopter spinning out of control." She holds back a fit of laughter, making all of you giggle. "That had to have been, what, ten seconds max?"

"And Mattheo looked stiff as a fuckin' board," you chime in, rolling your eyes as you adjust your shorts. "He was trying so hard to look all brooding that he forgot you actually have to put some work in. Like, you’re not a pillow princess, babe.” You rolled your eyes, making the other girls stifle laughs. It was…ugh."

"I mean, what about Theodore though?" Cleo pipes up, twisting a coil around her finger. "He definitely had me excited. It was kind of hot how he didn't even look stressed, but I do think it was a little serious for the vibe, you know? It was lacking a bit."

You all nod, humming in agreement.

Kiara crosses her arms, a knowing smirk on her face as she glances over at Justin and Brandon, who are laughing by the pool table across the yard. "Justin’s little routine was cute, but it felt like I was watching a fitness infomercial.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “If we are talking about real, live action, panty-dropping sex appeal... we all know who took it home."

"Brandon," You all say in unison, bursting out laughing. 

"When he took that shirt off? I started salivating, I swear.” Rima gushed. “The abs, the tats? It's honestly not even fair for the other guys."

"I hate to give his ego the satisfaction," Cleo laughs, shaking her head, "but Rima’s right. The man is sexy."

"It was the smile for me," you admit, cracking a smile under your cowboy hat. "I’m a sucker for dimples. And he's got one of those faces that makes it impossible to be mad at him."

"Alright, so it's unanimous," Kiara says. "Brandon it is."

With your vote officially locked in, you all turn to the boys and wait, watching them whisper. They’re huddled up in a tight circle, gesturing wildly.

It takes them a solid two minutes of intense arguing before they finally agree and turn to face the group of you.

“Okay, we’ve decided,” Justin starts, tilting his head. “Would you ladies like to do the honors?”

You all shake your heads, crossing your arms. “Gentlemen, first.” Cleo tuts.

Justin tilts his head, eyes on her. “I...don’t believe that’s how the saying goes.” He muses, teasing.

Cleo narrows her eyes at him. “Just tell us who you chose.” She quips.

Justin throws his hands up in mock surrender, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” He submits, clearing his throat. “We think you all did great, some real show-stoppers,” Justin dragged out dramatically. “But we all agreed that this girl really stole the show and looked good as hell doing it, so we voted…Y/N.” He throws both of his hands out in your direction.

They all clap it up as you pretend to be shy, shielding yourself, playfully waving them off.

“Let’s go, babe!” Rima cheered, flipping her hair over her shoulder and looking at the boys. “Alright,” she starts, everyone quieting down. “We chose this boy because he really gave us everything.” She gushes. “Plus, the tattoos gave him some brownie points for sure, sooooo, we voted…Brandon!” She smiles, all the guys immediately clapping him on the back as you and the girls clapped, scoffing at their antics.

In the middle of their rowdiness, your phone goes off, though no one hears it. You fish the device out of your pocket, opening up the message. “Wait, I got a text!” you announce, everyone quieting down and turning to you.

“Really? What’s it say now?” Sarah inquires as they all crowd you as you read it out.

Y/N and Brandon, as the winners of today’s challenge, you two have won a private date outside the villa!

The words barely leave your lips before everyone goes absolutely chaotic.

"Oh my god!" Sarah shrieks, jumping up and throwing her hands in the air. "Yes! Get out of here!" She yells, clapping her hands loudly.

“I hate you,” Rima sneers playfully, shoving your shoulder in a joking manner, a grin on her face.

You stand there, holding the phone, a wide smile breaking across your face. You look over at Brandon, who is already grinning, dimples on full display as the guys surround him, roughing up his hair and slapping his tatted shoulders.

You and Brandon made short, small talk yesterday, but haven’t expressed a romantic interest in each other, especially considering your coupling with Theo and with your heart being completely locked down by Rafe, and Brandon’s eyes are firmly set on getting to know Rima—but neither of you are mad about this at all. 

In fact, you’re both overjoyed to get a free pass out of the villa—get some free drinks, and escape everyone for a few hours with a change of scenery.

"Wear a hoodie and don't smile at her!" Theodore yells, laughing as he pulls Brandon into a bro-hug. 

"Man, I'm just excited to see what the outside world looks like again," Brandon laughs, looking over the crowd at you, giving you a playful, friendly wink. "You ready to get out of here?"

"More than ready," you laugh back. 

But as the celebration rings out, Mattheo is standing completely frozen, knuckles turning white as he curls his hands into fists. The fake, calm, 'reformed man' facade he’s been trying to pull off all day is shattering the farther you walk away. His face is dark, his jaw clenching so hard you can practically hear his teeth grinding together from across grass. 

He glares directly at Brandon, then shifts his burning eyes to you, looking like he just watched his prize at the county fair get handed to someone else. He looks furious, seething over the fact that that his plan to win you back was getting derailed every time he tried.

Theodore, on the other hand, is relatively unbothered. His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you laugh with Brandon. But he doesn't look angry like Mattheo—that’s just not him—but there’s a slight look of disappointment on his face as he watches you and Brandon head inside to get dressed up, walking side by side, talking enthusiastically.

Confessional : You "Do Brandon and I have romantic vibes? No.” You say bluntly. “I know my stance. Brandon knows it, I think everyone does, and I know he’s trying with Rima. But winning this challenge?” You perk up, jumping in your seat. “I am that bitch!” You hype yourself, giggling, re-adjusting your cowboy hat. “I’m surprised I even remember how to do that. That could’ve been overly embarrassing if I fell off in, like, ten seconds. I’m just glad to get some fresh air and hang out with Brandon, he’s honestly a chill guy. I could see myself being friends with him."

Confessional : Brandon "Honestly? I’m stoked I won, means I get to leave the villa for a bit, clear my head, and have a laugh." He gives a casual smile. "And sharing the win with Y/N is awesome.” He gleams. “She did her thing. I mean, mounting the bull backwards? That shit was hot, easily the sexiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.” He chuckles, deep. “I know she’s completely locked down with Rafe, and I’ve got nothing but respect for that. Rafe is a lucky dude. I'm not trying to step on his toes or anything. I don’t see us being anything other than friends, but hey, a free date outside the villa with a beautiful, cool girl? I'm not complaining."

As you and Brandon disappear into the villa, the rest of the islanders sit around, gushing about the challenge. Everyone was on the daybeds or by the pool or in the kitchen, chatting, but Mattheo was secluded on the terrace, fuming.

Confessional : Rima "I am so happy for my girl! Like, obviously I wanted a piece of that tatted cowboy for myself—did you see those abs? I was drooling,” she fawned, sighing. “but if anyone deserved to win today, it was her. Watching her ride that bull backwards was iconic. And honestly, the best part of the entire thing was watching Mattheo’s face.” She burst out laughing. “I know that boy is going to be crying himself to sleep tonight, and I love that."

Confessional : Theodore "She looked incredible. The outfit, the way she handled the bull, hell, even the cowboy hat was doing things to me... she’s gorgeous. And dangerous. And extremely sexy.” He laughs to himself, realizing he was getting lost in his head. “I voted for her, of course. It is a bit of a shame she is going on a date with Brandon instead of me, but it is what it is. She tells me she's completely focused on Rafe, and I like a girl who stands her ground, but I hope the door doesn’t stay completely locked."

Confessional : Mattheo "It’s ridiculous. The public pairs her with Theodore, and now she’s going on a date with Brandon?” He hisses, narrowing his eyes. “It should have been me. I came on this show for her, to show her I’ve changed, and she won’t even look me in the eye. She’s out there riding mechanical bulls backwards, acting like she’s completely single, and now she’s going off with this guy? What does he have that I don’t? Some tattoos? A couple of dimples?” He scoffs. “She’s just doing this to punish me. It’s pushing my buttons, she knows it is."

BACK in the villa, the girls have cornered you in the glam room just before you headed downstairs to leave with Brandon, shutting the door tightly behind you to lock the boys out.

"Alright, layout the optionsss!" Sarah squeals, running over to your wardrobe. "You need to look good, bitch, like you always do, but that’s beside the point. And not because you're trying to couple up with Brandon, but because we need Mattheo to lose his mind when you walk down those stairs."

"Exactly," Cleo laughs, leaning against the vanity as she watches you touch up your lip gloss. "Give him a taste of what he fumbled, honey. You should’ve seen his face. He was pissed."

You laugh, pulling out a gorgeous, flowy sundress that beautifully compliments you, pairing it with some simple jewelry and letting your hair fall perfectly around your face as you don't say much, not wanting to think about your ex.

"Oh! Ask him about his tattoos, I need leverage." Rima winks, leaning against the closet door. "And look, if you get bored, just ask him why he ghosted Cleo so we can get more dirt on him because I still want to know."

"Hey!" Cleo throws a makeup sponge at Rima, laughing. "But seriously, just have fun. Enjoy the break from us, the drama, and relax, and stop thinking about Rafe." She plucks your arm. "You’ve had the same notch in between your eyebrows since we found out what was going on."

You sigh, giving the girls a massive group hug before grabbing your small clutch bag. "Thanks.” You give them a downturned smile. “Keep an eye on Mattheo for me, make sure he doesn’t try to steal a pair of my underwear to try and put a spell on me." You teased.

"It'd only give me an excuse to beat up a man," Rima promises with a smirk and you wave them all goodbye.

You walk down the stairs of the villa, heels clicking. Brandon is already waiting by the front doors, looking remarkably handsome in a clean, short-sleeved black button-down shirt that lets his arm tattoos peek out, paired with some basic pants. He looks up as you descend, his eyes widening slightly before that smile takes over his face.

"Wow," Brandon says genuinely, shaking his head. "You look great."

"Thanks, cowboy," you tease, walking over to him. "I take it you weren't a fan of Theo's hoodie idea?" You taunt, a friendly smile on your lips as Brandon laughs under his breath.

"Eh, he'll be alright." He replies back, smiling smally.

"Ready to blow this popsicle stand?" You tease with a faux-country cadence to your words, nudging his shoulder.

He nods, guiding you out. "Let's do it."

As Brandon leads you out to the car, you catch one last glimpse of the villa over your shoulder.

Mattheo is standing by the kitchen island, staring daggers straight at Brandon’s back, chest heaving with a glass clutched between his fingers. Next to him, Theodore watches you go with an unreadable look, flashing you a soft smile as you return the favor.

You turn back to the door, a completely unbothered smirk plastered on your face as you slide your arm politely through Brandon's.

MOMENTS later, you and Brandon are whisked away to a secluded stone terrace overlooking the cliffs of the island. A spread of champagne, strawberries, and charcuterie sits between you on a rustic wooden table.

The atmosphere is calm, relaxing as you both take your seats across from one another.

"Well, cheers to being the sexiest motherfuckers in the villa," Brandon chuckles, clinking his champagne glass against yours as he scoots himself in. His smile is warm, and up close, his tattoos are a lot more intricate, you noticing one in every spot, leaving little space without any ink.

"Cheers," you laugh, taking a sip. "Honestly, I needed to get out of that villa for a second. This whole ex thing is messing with my head..."

Brandon leans back, looking at you curiously. "I bet.” He nods. “Do you mind if  I ask you about your connection. With Rafe, I mean.” He clarifies. “Where’s your head at?"

You sigh, running a finger around the rim of your glass. "I won't lie and say I'm feeling one hundred percent relaxed right now. This entire Casa Amor thing makes me so...jittery and anxious. But... I want to try with Rafe. He’s the only one I want, and I'm just praying he’s holding it down over there."

"That's respectable," Brandon nods genuinely. "What about Theo, though? How are you feelin’ about that?"

"I mean, I can't deny that he's a pretty good-looking guy," you say honestly, shrugging one shoulder lazily. "But he seems kind of closed off and quiet. I've already spent weeks breaking down the walls of one closed-off guy so, even if I was open, I’m pretty damn sure I don't want to do that all over again. I don't plan to." You lean forward, tilting your head. "Can I ask you something?” You fire back. “What’s the story with you and Cleo? The whole ghosting situation?"

Brandon sighs, his eyes dropping to the table as he rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that,” he starts, nervous. “Look, I really have grown out of that kind of behavior. I feel really fuckin’ bad about how I did her. I'm glad I got the chance to pull her aside, and give her a real apology, though. I really did care for her, but at the time, I was just a selfish guy.” He admitted. “I cared about myself and my career more than I cared about her feelings, or anyone else's for that matter."

"And now?" you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

"I mean, I do still have that like lingering interest in Cleo," Brandon admits open-heartedly. "I’d be open to give things another shot if she’ll let me, but I doubt that. Besides... I do have a lot of interest in Rima. She’s just so fierce, beautiful, confident, and she does really draw the attention of every room she walks into.” He tells you.

You hum, accepting his words, storing it all in the back of your mind.

The rest of the date goes beautifully. It’s calm, friendly, and, by the end of it, you think that you've made a really great friend in Brandon.

WHEN you walk back into the villa, Brandon waves you off before heading over to the outdoor gym area where the guys are crowded, while you gather with the girls who are in the kitchen.

"You’re back!” Sarah gasps, jumping up at your presence. “How was it?" she asks eagerly.

"It went exactly how I thought it would," you smile, pouring yourself a glass of water. "I mean, Brandon is attractive, I can't deny that, but I just don't see him that way. He’s a friend, for sure." You turn directly to Cleo. "But we did talk about you.” You tell her, the girl making a face that told you to go on. “He said he feels really bad about how everything went down, that he was just really selfish at the time and that's all it was. He says he really cared about you and he's grateful you allowed him to apologize." Your eyes fleet between her and Rima, carefully deciding your next words. "...He also said he does have a lingering interest in you still and he'd be open to giving it another shot, but he doesn't think you are."

Cleo shrugs her shoulders, her expression softened but resolute as Rima remains relatively unbothered, yet still involved in the conversation. "Yeah, I figured.” She sighs lightly. “I’m open to making amends and being cool, but I am not giving him another chance in that way. I gotta stand on what I said—if you keep going back to the same tree in a forest, you’re lost."

"Mhm.” She hums, pointing at Cleo. “You ate that shit, by the way." she says, making you all breath laughs. "But that's reasonable." Rima assures, shrugging one shoulder.

"I still think you should go for him, though," Cleo tells her, casual. "I'm done with him but he does seem genuinely different, in a good way."

Rima scoffs, sipping her drink. "Oh, don't worry. I will take extra good care of him." She winks, making Cleo laugh.

OVER by the gym, Brandon sits on the grass, looking at Theodore and Mattheo.

"Don't worry," Brandon jokes, turning to Theodore with a grin. "I'm not trying to steal your girl." He then cuts his eyes to Mattheo, repeating the same tone. "Or yours."

Theodore scoffs, a smirk on his lips, but Mattheo ignores the comment, still reeling. "How was the date?" Theo asks, setting a dumbbell down.

"It was great," Brandon says honestly. "Great girl. But nothing more. She's beautiful, really amazing, but just not my kind of relationship girl. We're better off as friends, I can definitely see that." 

Brandon turns back to Theodore, clapping him on the shoulder. "And honestly, Theo? I think she might be little bit open.” He says honestly. “I think she’s just terrified of getting hurt, and nervous because she doesn’t know what could be happening with their guys. I think you just got to crack that door open a little bit, and you're in."

Mattheo stands in front of a bench, fingers gripping the edge of it as he leans over. He’s offended by Brandon's words, chest burning with fury, but he forces a tight, fake smile and nods.

“Glad you had a good time, man.” He interjects, walking off.

AS night falls, you and the girls are in the dressing room, discussing how everything is progressing as you get ready for bed.

"Can I be honest?" Kiara says, braiding her hair, a chorus of hums sounding out as replies. "I feel guilty because…I think I really like Thomas. I don't know if it's just because I miss JJ so much, and I see a lot of JJ in Thomas. Like, they have a very similar, funny, goofy sense of humor. But I don't want to lead him on, because he seems like a genuinely good guy." She shivers, letting out a groan. "And on top of that, I am not sharing a bed with Mattheo. He makes my skin crawl."

Sarah turns to Kie. "I'm glad you and Thomas are hitting it off. I can see you guys being a match.” She offers honestly. “But... I'm a little on edge about sleeping in the bed with him tonight. I don't think I'm going to." She shakes her heard. "I don't want to disrespect John B, and honestly, it’s just weird to share a bed with someone you’ve literally had sex with in the past."

Rima lets out a soft laugh from her vanity. "Well, count me out of the daybeds tonight.” She says. “I am actually really excited to share a bed with Brandon. That rodeo challenge still has me reeling,” she fawns, knees buckling as her eyes roll back, the rest of you laughing at her theatrics. “Lord have mercy. He looked so dreamy on that bull…I might not be able to keep my hands off him tonight. Sorry in advance, girls."

"I'd have to agree," Cleo tosses in. "I'm really feeling Justin. I can't wait to sleep like a baby on top of those abs tonight."

The dressing room erupts into a chorus of loud laughs at her words.

"And what about you?" Sarah asks, turning to you. “How’s Theo treating you?”

"He seems pretty sweet, I guess," you admit honestly, slipping into your sleep shorts. "He seems like a decent guy. But again... I just finally got things back to normal with Rafe before he left. I don’t want to fuck it up.” You stood firm. “So, I can withstand the mosquitoes on the daybeds if it means respecting Rafe at the end of the day. And I can only hope to God he’s doing the same."

WHEN it comes down to it, only Cleo and Rima head into the main bedroom, intending to sleep with their partners.

You, Sarah, and Kiara grab your pillows and head out onto the daybeds, settling onto three separate outdoor daybeds under the humid night air.

Just as you curl up under your blanket, adjusting your pillow, the glass sliding door to the deck softly opens.

You look up, finding Theodore. He’s wearing just a pair of grey cotton shorts and some kind of oversized band tee that looks like he’s had it for years. 

Sarah and Kiara sit up slightly, watching him as he approaches.

Theodore walks over to the edge of your daybed, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable.

"Uh, hey," Theodore says softly, his voice quiet. "... I saw you guys coming out here, and...to be honest, I would feel a lot better if you came inside into the bedroom."

You pout and shake your head gently, pulling the blanket up to your chin. "Oh," your voice falls. "I appreciate it, but I just really don't want to do anything that I wouldn't want Rafe doing."

Theodore smiles softly, nodding his head. "I understand that, and I respect it completely.” He reassures, hands up in surrender. “But... I just can't stomach the thought of you sleeping out here on a hard cushion, getting bit up by all these mosquitoes and being uncomfortable, while I am sound asleep in a giant, comfortable bed inside that really, technically, belongs to you."

Theodore steps closer. "Look, we can share the bed inside. I promise you, I will keep space between us, we can even put a row of pillows right down the middle of the mattress. Or... if you want, I can just give you the indoor bed completely, and I come out here and sleep on the daybed."

Your heart melts just a little bit at the kindness of his gesture. You smile warmly at him, sitting up. "Theo... thank you so much for the offer. Honestly. That is very sweet of you. But honestly, if I take the indoor bed, that just leaves you out here sleeping next to Kiara and Sarah, and I’d honestly just rather stick out here with my girls for tonight."

You stand up for a brief second, stepping close to him, and wrap your arms around his neck for a brief hug. "Thank you for being so sweet, though." You mumble into his shoulder.

Theodore hugs you back gently, nodding against your hair. "Of course. Sleep well."

He pulls away, giving a polite nod to Sarah and Kiara before heading back inside.

You climb back into your daybed, curling up on your side. Next to you, Sarah and Kiara smile warmly.

"He’s a good guy," Sarah whispers, giving you a look.

"Yeah," you mutter, closing your eyes as the sound of the ocean waves echoes. "He is."

And as you drift off to sleep, the night air more biting than you remember without Rafe’s large, warm presence, your last thought drifts right back to him. 

Please be sleeping alone, Rafe, you plead to whoever might be listening. 

Please.

next chapter>

He hooks a finger beneath the sleeve of his golf polo and rolls it a little higher on his bicep, adjusting the fabric before dragging the back of his hand across his forehead. The UV index has to be somewhere around ten and he feels every bit of it.

“The only reason I’m out here is because she said it’d be good for me.”

Topper snorts and Kelce’s chip barely makes it out of the sandpit.

“And you’ve been thinkin’ about leaving since hole one,” Topper chuckles, shaking his head.

“Hole one? That’s insulting,” Rafe breathes.

“Sorry, hole four—”

“Parking lot,” Rafe cuts him off. “I was thinkin’ that since the parking lot, Top.”

But even that’s a lie. He was thinking that the moment that he watched you wave to him over your shoulder before you stepped outside—that little string bikini peeking out of the top of your shorts, tormenting him beyond belief.

Ever since then he’s been crossing holes off in his head like an advent calendar from his own personal hell.

“He’s not even listening,” Kelce teases.

Rafe looks over at him, blinking slowly a few times with his lips pursed and his hands resting on his hips.

“‘Course I’m not.”

“Unbelievable,” Topper sighs. “I was just telling Kelce we could do another eighteen holes—”

Rafe can’t even contain his disgust—wincing, brows pinched tight, nostrils flared with a side eye dripping with judgment.

“We’re not inviting you, Cameron. Calm the fuck down,” he blurts.

Ding! Rafe’s hand moves, diving for his pocket like someone challenged him to a goddamn duel.

Kelce drops the head of his putter against the grass, shaking his head judgmentally. Rafe rolls his eyes, unlocking his phone without a shred of shame.

“You’ve got a problem,” Topper says.

“A legitimate fucking problem,” Kelce adds.

“I can’t help that neither of you like your wives,” Rafe mutters and both of their mouths hang open in disgust. “Whatever,” he says, sounding so genuinely unbothered. ‘Cause he is.

Then he looks down at the screen and suddenly nothing else matters.

You’re stretched out across one of the lounge chairs beside the pool with a book propped open. The afternoon sun reflects off your skin. The book covers half your face, but that isn’t helping him concentrate because the rest of you is impossible to miss—the soft swells of your breasts pressed against the pool chair, the curve of your ass, just a taste of your thighs. Your feet are crossed, the little anklet he bought you glittering in the North Carolina sun.

“Look at him,” Topper says, nudging Kelce with his elbow.

“Not a single thought in that head,” Kelce adds as he steps forward and rests his putter behind the ball, taking his time while he studies the break.

The green goes quiet for a second while everybody waits for him to hit it. Before he can even pull the putter back, Rafe steps directly into his line and sinks his putt without hesitation.

Topper starts barking out a laugh and Kelce stares at him in complete disbelief as his ball rolls toward the hole. “You are such a prick,” Kelce says.

“We’re done.”

“We are absolutely not done.”

“This feels done,” Rafe answers, bending down to grab his ball, starting toward the flag before the argument is even over, Kelce’s ball still rolling toward the cup.

“You’re unbelievable, Cameron—”

Rafe cuts off Kelce’s critique, kicking the ball, sending it careening away. “It was gonna hook left anyway,” Rafe says over his shoulder, digging his keys out of his pocket, heading toward the parking lot as the two bitch behind him. “You two suck at golf, by the way,” Rafe calls back.

“Fuck you, Rafe,” Kelce laughs weakly, walking toward his ball.

“Short game’s terrible.”

“Rafe!” Topper calls but he flicks him off in response.

“Don’t even get me started on you, Top. You read greens like an eighty-year-old man with cataracts, fucking useless.”

“Jesus Christ,” Topper gasps.

Rafe doesn’t even bother organizing his clubs when he reaches the parking lot. He yanks them out of the cart, tosses the entire bag into the trunk with absolutely no regard for the thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment inside.

He jogs around the side of the car, yanks the driver’s door open, and practically falls into the seat before firing the engine to life.

Gravel spits behind him as he throws the car into reverse, backing out of the spot in one smooth movement before shifting into drive.

The second he hits the main road, he grabs his phone and calls. His thumbs drum against the steering wheel as the summer wind whips through the car, his pulse hammering, still racing from that power walk to his car.

“Hey, baby,” your voice fills his car and he softens in his seat, hands wrapping a little tighter around the wheel as he smiles.

“Hey pretty,” he hums.

His voice is softer now, gravelly from talking all day and sweeter than it has any right to be considering the way he’d been speaking to Topper and Kelce five minutes ago.

If you’d been standing on that green listening to him threaten both of them, you’d absolutely have something to say about it. He already knows exactly what you’d tell him too. Be nice. Stop being grumpy. They’re your friends. The problem is that he doesn’t care about any of that right now.

“Where are you?” You ask curiously, and he can hear in your voice that you know he dipped out of there sooner than he should have.

“Just left.”

“You just left?” You giggle.

“Mhmm...” Your voice comes through the speakers and instantly makes him feel better than the entire golf outing did.

Traffic slows for a red light and the drumming starts again as he waits for it to change.

“You weren’t gonna get a drink or something?” You ask. “Relax?”

“Absolutely not.”

The answer comes so fast that you start laughing again. The corner of his mouth twitches as he shifts in his seat. “They were stayin’ to practice puttin’, baby.”

“Really?” You ask, not convinced in the slightest.

“Yeah. Their—uhhh… Their short games suck.”

“Gotcha.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“They’re fuckin’ terrible, baby. That was a long-ass day,” he grumbles and you giggle. He leans back against the headrest as he lets the moment breathe for a minute. “Kids been easy on you today?”

“Actually, yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Just laying by the pool,” you say.

“Sounds rough.”

“Fuckin’ terrible, baby,” you echo his words back to him and he smiles. “They’re actually at Wheezie’s.”

The car accelerates, completely subconscious on his part, but you hear it loud and clear. Rafe’s eyes flick briefly toward the speedometer while a grin starts pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

“Rafe Cameron, slow down.”

The grin only gets worse, sinking a little lower in the driver’s seat, as one hand falls to the shift stick.

“I’m goin’ slow, baby.”

“You are not,” you answer. “You accelerated the second I said the kids weren’t home.”

“Did I?” You can practically hear the grin in his voice now as he weaves through traffic. “So.”

You start laughing, knowing exactly where he’s going to go with this. “Winnie’s in Charleston with Jackson.”

“Got it. And Max?” He asks eagerly.

“He left like an hour ago.”

“On the boat?” He asks, knowing that’s an all-day affair.

“Mhmm…”

Rafe’s laugh rumbles through the phone. “Interesting,” he says.

“Interesting?” You laugh and sigh sweetly.

“Sounds like I get you to myself all day?”

“Sounds like it.”

By the time he turns into the neighborhood, he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. The gates open and he barely slows down as he pulls through them, already spotting flashes of blue water between the houses.

“You’re almost here, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he hums. “See you outside, baby.”

The second he turns into the driveway, the car barely has time to rest before he’s throwing it into park, killing the engine.

The garage door rumbles overhead and he doesn’t wait, ducking underneath it before it can open all the way. His shirt’s halfway over his head before he even reaches the mudroom. By the time he steps inside, he’s carrying the polo in one hand, snagging his swim trunks from the laundry room with the other.

He stumbles slightly, kicking off his golf shoes without ever breaking stride. Future Rafe can deal with that problem. Present Rafe has more important things to do.

His golf shorts are already undone by the time he reaches the hallway. He steps out of them, steps into the swim trunks, and keeps walking without stopping once to grab his hat, tugging it on before he flicks it to the back.

Now he’s finally home and the only thing he cares about is the backyard door sitting at the end of the room. He reaches it a few seconds later and quickly slows down, dragging the glass door open.

And that last bit of tension breezes out of him, because there you are.

You’re curled up in a chair with a book open in your hands, completely unaware that he’s standing there.

He admires you for a moment—one leg crossed over the other while sunlight dances across the pool behind you. He soaks in the scene he’d spent eighteen holes waiting to get home to.

Then a sharp whistle rips through his lips.

Your head lifts at the sound.

The book lowers into your lap and a smile breaks across your face so fast it makes something in his chest tighten.

You start to uncross your legs, already leaning forward like you’re about to stand, but he points at you.

“Nah, baby,” he says. “Stay right there. I’m comin’.”

You laugh under your breath and fall back against the chair.

The cushions dip beneath his weight as he climbs on top of you. One hand braces against the armrest while the other finds your thigh, his broad palm sliding higher as he guides you closer.

“Miss me?” He asks. Rafe’s smile tugs a little wider when you whisper yes, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your thigh.

He slides a hand along your side, guiding you onto his lap as one arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest while the other lifts to cup your cheek.

“Goddamn, I missed you. Don’t make me do that shit again,” he mutters, shaking his head once before leaning back enough to look at you properly. “M’not home enough for that.”

“Okay, baby,” you laugh.

“I mean it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t try to charm me after that, pretty. That was hell.” He leans in first this time, forehead brushing yours for a second before his lips find yours. “I love you,” he murmurs.

Your hand presses against his chest, nails scratching lightly down sun-warmed skin. He pushes the cup of your bikini to the side, wrapping his lips around your skin while his other hand drifts between your thighs.

“Out here?” You ask with a laugh.

“We’re all alone, baby. Why not?” His lips brush yours again before trailing along your jaw. “We can go inside too—”

“Right here,” you whisper.

“That’s what I thought,” he hums. “Who’s my girl, huh?”

You smile, fingers hooking beneath the waistband of his swim trunks. “I’m your girl.”

“Mhmm.” His thumb drifts along your collarbones to your shoulders, nudging one strap down before the other. “You’re my fuckin’ girl.” The words come out rough enough to pull a smile from you.

You reach up and untie the small bow holding your swimsuit top together. The fabric slips loose between you.

Rafe’s eyes drop as you toss it away. “Jesus Christ, baby.” A low groan slips out of him as he tips his forehead against yours for a second, hands lifting to squeeze your tits in his big palms as his mouth finds yours again.

You glance down briefly, catching his swim trunks sitting low on his hips from where you’d been tugging at them, bunched slightly against his muscular thighs, the fabric stretched tight across them.

“Take these off,” you whisper, the words barely leaving your lips before he slides down in his seat, tugging down his shorts with him, his heavy cock smacking against his toned stomach with a snap, his eyes locked on your body.

His hands squeeze your hips, digging in as he drags your clothed pussy on top of him, head pressing back into the chair. The sun beats down on your skin. A thin line of sweat catching his chain before it rolls in a lazy train down his chest.

“They said I got a problem,” he mumbles through a smirk, his jaw tightening as you keep moving against him, the heat of your body bleeding through the fabric of your swimsuit, finally snapping whatever patience he had left.

“Yeah, baby?”

“You see any problems here?” He asks breathlessly as he reaches for the bows at your hip, tugging them free, yanking away the rest of the fabric in a hurry as his hands close around you again.

He blows out a breath like he’s finally gotten rid of the last thing standing between him and what he wants, his hand diving between your thighs.

His fingers press inside and he gasps, working you with his hand as you rest on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath, his muscles flexing with each push of his hand.

“Just jealous they don’t have a woman like you?” He hums as he pulls his hand away just long enough to drag you in.

Rafe’s lidded eyes connect with yours, lips falling open with his as he pulls you down on him. You grip his shoulders, hands trembling as a deep groan thunders in his chest, feeling your wetness wrap around him tight.

“Fuck, me,” he mutters under his breath, dragging you closer, smiling against your lips before capturing your mouth in a tender kiss.

“Oh my god,” you whine.

“Pussy’s so perfect.”

His eyes lift to yours in a lust-ridden daze, muscles flexing as he works you over on his length. You bounce on his lap, wet slaps of sweat and slick filling with air around you mixing with your soft whimpers and his deep groans.

You grip the arm rests, circling your hips and he throws his head against the back of the chair to get a better look, his eyes drifting between your face and the bounce of your tits, falling to his lap where your pussy swallows him up each time you sink down.

His legs spread a little wider, feet resting on the ground, hips pitching to fuck up into your soaked hole. Your head throws back as you rise on your knees, letting him hit that perfect spot, the knot in your belly tightening, your body impossibly hot.

“Rafe,” you moan.

“Yeah?” He asks, and you can hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Been playin’ this shit over and over in my mind, pretty. Let me have it.”

You cry out as he pounds your pussy with his thick dick. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, as your pussy flutters around him. He looks up at you in a haze, lips parted, brows softening as your release wets his lap and thighs.

“Oh shit, that's my girl… That’s my baby,” he praises, making you gasp when he rolls you onto your back, not giving you a moment to breathe before he’s on you again.

He looks down at you with a smile, adjusting his hat, staring at the wet mess between your thighs. “Why the fuck would I ever wanna leave you, huh?” He asks as he pushes your legs against your chest, hooking your ankles over his broad shoulders.

You whimper out a little breath as he taps his cock against your pussy, muscles jumping with each slap.

He pushes in slow, tilting closer to get as far as he can go, pressing a deep kiss to your trembling lips. “Gonna cum in your pussy,” he whispers, his voice breaking with pleasure. “M’so, so fuckin’ close.”

His face turns slightly, pressing a kiss to your ankle, right against the charm. His ab muscles clench as he rolls his lips, sweat sliding down his temple.

“I’m so deep,” he mumbles. You nod quickly, lip bitten between your teeth, hands gripping the arm rests tight.

“So fucking deep,” you whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly. “Fuck me.”

He loses his rhythm, thrusts growing uneven as he snaps against your skin. His muscles quake, shoulders trembling, slamming into you in one heavy thrust.

His eyes pinch shut, head falling forward, cumming deep inside you with your name on his lips.

He lets your legs go but he doesn’t let you get far, snuggling into you again, kissing your forehead—then your nose and your lips.

“Goddamn,” he mumbles, lingering while your breathing slows together.

He sits down next to you, dragging you close, kissing you as he grabs your thigh, tugging it over the top of him—close not close enough.

“This,” he huffs out a deep breath through a smile, relaxing into the lounge chair. “This is what’s good for me.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, tilting your chin up for a kiss that he gladly steals. You rest your head on his shoulder, the warm summer breeze blowing against your skin, the soft music that you had playing while you were reading filling the space in between.

“You sent that picture to me on purpose,” he breathes.

A smile stretches on his lips when you don’t answer right away, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

“Holy shit, you did? Didn’t you?” He asks, tilting his neck to look you in the eyes and you shrug and smile.

“Thought it would get you home quicker.”

His hand comes down heavy on your thigh as he dips in, brushing his nose against yours, chuckling deeply against your lips before he kisses you.

“That’s my girl.”

You shifted slightly as a breeze swept over you, trying not to disturb him, but his grip tightened, a low rumble vibrating against your shoulder blade.

"Where y’goin?" he muttered, his voice thick with sleep as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "The sun’s barely up..."

You smiled, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. His usual smirk was completely gone, replaced by a soft drowsiness that you figured few people ever got to see. "As much as I want to stay out here, everyone is going to start waking up soon.” You told him softly, squeezing his arm. “If Sarah catches us out here again, she’s going to make it her personal mission to announce it via a megaphone."

Rafe let out something between a soft laugh and a sigh, slowly opening his eyes as they locked onto yours, making your stomach do somersaults. "Let her.” He whined, pouting. “Y’know how much shit I get from the guys?" He leaned in, planting a soft, teasing kiss just beneath your ear that sent a shiver straight down your spine as you shivered under his touch. "But fine. Go get changed.” He grumbled as you smiled, rolling your eyes. 

“I’ll see you soon." You nodded, reluctantly sliding out from under the heavy blanket, kissing his cheek and giving his hand one last squeeze before jogging barefoot across the grass toward the bedroom.

WHEN Rafe walked into the guys' dressing room ten minutes later, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he was greeted by the familiar sight of JJ aggressively spraying cologne and John B trying to tame his signature messy curls in the mirror.

"Yo, look who finally decided to join the club!" JJ shouted, throwing a stray towel at Rafe's head as he coughed from the overwhelming scent of his own fragrance. Rafe caught it effortlessly, a small smirk playing on his lips as he tossed it back, shaking his head. "Man, you’ve got it bad.” JJ kept on, waving a hand in front of his face. “You’re out there sleeping under the stars ‘n shit.” He mocked. “I thought you were supposed to be the big man on campus, dude."

John B laughed from the mirror. "He’s whipped, man. There’s no saving him."

"Shut up," Rafe muttered looking through his clothes, though there was no real heat in his voice. "We were just talkin’." He dismissed them, shrugging. “And who said I wanted to be saved?” He threw out over his shoulder.

"Yeah, 'talking,'" JJ mocked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

The playful banter was cut short when the heavy frosted glass door to the bathroom swung open, Topper stepping out with his face dark and a fresh towel slung over his shoulder. The second his eyes landed on Rafe, his jaw clenched, posture stiffening into that rigid, confrontational stance he took when his ego was bruised.

He marched right into Rafe's personal space, stopping just inches from his chest as the room fell still. "You must think you’re real fucking funny, don't you, man?" Topper spat, his voice dropping into a harsh, angry hiss. "I mean, what the hell? Exposing me like that in front of everyone?” He spat, though his voice dropped towards the end of his sentence. “For what? To make yourself look like the good guy? Like you haven’t been sneaking around with the bombshell chick since day one. Because, in case you weren’t aware, she’s not your partner—"

Rafe didn't flinch as Topper pushed a finger against his chest. He stood perfectly still, but the guys could see the exact moment the air in the room shifted, even Pope as he entered, yawning.

Inside Rafe's head, a familiar storm was cooking up—that hot surge of adrenaline, the old anger that used to send him straight to the bottom of a bottle or into a fistfight—flaring up behind his ribs.

“Like, forgive me for keeping a girl company when you kick her to the dust.” Topper egged on.

Don't do it, Rafe told himself, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists inside his pockets. He’d worked so hard to not be that person anymore, to not let the smallest things set him off. 

"Topper," Rafe said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, dropping an octave. He took a single, slow step forward, his eyes locking onto Topper’s with a lethal intensity as he bent over to be eye-level with the fuming blonde. "I’m going to give you exactly five seconds to back the fuck up.” Rafe ordered, a snarl on his lips. “You crossed a line—you lied to Sarah, and you got caught. Don't direct your bitchy little temper tantrum at me—"

“What’d you say, man—

"Alright." Pope suddenly materialized between them, using his broad shoulders to push Topper back a few paces. "We are not doing this today. It’s only day five, nobody needs to be sent home over a dumb argument.” He rationalized. “Topper, get out of here. Rafe, sit down."

Topper threw his hands up in frustration, glaring at Rafe over Pope’s shoulder. "Wha— Me? I’m getting put out because Rafe is a snake—"

From the corner of the room, John B let out a dry, passive-aggressive chuckle as he adjusted a hat on his head. "You serious? You're actually sitting here whining but I bet you haven't spent a single second thinking about Sarah.” He reprimanded. “She actually trusted you, man. And she deserved a hell of a lot better."

Topper scoffed, glaring at John B. "Oh, and I suppose you think you’re that better guy? Please, spare me.."

John B just shrugged, jutting his bottom lip out. "At least I know how to look a girl in the eye and tell the truth.”

MEANWHILE, on the other side of the villa, you were doing your best to manage the absolute disaster area that was the girls' dressing room. 

Sarah was sitting in the corner, her face completely bare and her eyes swollen from crying, while Cleo quietly rubbed her back. Kiara was applying her lip gloss in silence and sorrow, the lingering guilt from the Pope situation still hanging over her like a heavy fog.

"...Okay, yeah, no," you said, closeting your own worries as you clapped your hands together to draw their attention. "We are not letting the bullshit from the guys ruin our experience. No. It’s a fresh morning, the sun is shining, and we have an infinity pool that is practically begging us to lounge by it."

Sarah offered a weak, grateful smile from her corner, the girls chuckling. "Thanks. I’m just... I’m so mad at myself for being so blind.” She sniffed, playing with the used tissue in her hands. “I really thought Topper was different than other guys I’ve met. I know it’s a stupid thought for the first week, but…"

"He's a dick, sweetie," Cleo said flatly, not mincing her words. "And you're better off finding out now than on Day Twenty."

“Cleo makes a great point, honey.” You comforted, a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I mean, what’d you come here for? To find the right guy, right?”

Sarah pouted up at you, sniffing once more. “I don’t even know, I…” She took a deep breath, shoulders slumping. “I had just graduated with a Business Degree, had a job lined up, and I guess it felt like I had no clue what else to do in my life.” She explained, looking down. “I was so lost in LA, fresh out of a 2 year situationship, drowning myself in my own money, and I just said ‘why not’...”

Cleo chuckled. “I know the feeling, girl,” she started. “I was running around the Bahamas helping orphaned kids and decided I wanted to give love a try. Worst decision ever—got my heart broken and half my bank account drained.” She told you all. “Thought coming here would, I don’t know, do something for me…”

“See?” You jumped in, smiling. “This isn’t just about getting a guy. We all came here for ourselves. And even if we all leave single and more heartbroken than we were when we came in, I’ll be glad I met you guys. I like you all more than any of those dumbasses in the other room.” At your words, the three girls cocked an eyebrow in your direction, fixing you with matching smirks.

“...Even Rafe?” They said in unison as warmth flooded your cheeks, turning away from them.

“Shut up…” You grumbled, the trio laughing behind you. 

Seeking to shift the focus entirely, your eyes drifted to Ruthie, who was aggressively straightening her hair in the corner, completely ignoring the rest of the room. Despite your better judgement, you decided to extend an olive branch.

"So…Ruthie," you said, leaning against the counter near her station, all of the girls watching you and Ruthie. "What about you? What do you do back home? Are you in school, or working…?"

Ruthie didn't even pause her straightener. She let out a sharp, dismissive scoff, her eyes fixed on her reflection. "None of your business, honestly. I’m not here to make small talk.” She snapped back. “Especially not with homewreckers like you..."

The room went dead silent. Kiara paused her lip gloss, Sarah rolled her eyes, and Cleo’s jaw tightened.

You just raised an eyebrow, entirely unbothered by the hostility. "Last time I checked, you were the one who chose to spend your nights on the roof with Topper knowing he was pillowtalking Sarah every night.” You snapped back, a smirk on your face. “I was just trying to be polite, but if you want to stay in your little bubble of delusion, be my guest."

Kie, Sarah, and Cleo tried to hold back their laughs as Ruthie slammed her straightener down on the counter, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think you’re so much better than everyone here, don't you? Just wait until the recoupling.” She narrowed her eyes. “We’ll see who’s laughing then."

She then unplugged her straightener, snatched up her sunglasses, and stormed out of the room, slamming the glass door behind her.

Confessional : You "I tried!” You laughed, leaning back against the sofa. “I really did. I offered the olive branch, and she basically tried to stab me with it. I think she’s just pissed because her game plan blew up in her face, and instead of taking accountability for being messy with Topper, she wants to blame the bombshell who ‘threw a wrench in her “relationship”.’ But honestly? If she thinks she can scare me off, she’s vastly underestimating how much drama I had to deal with in Vegas."

THE kitchen was slightly less chaotic, though the air was still suffocating with unspoken tension. You walked in to find Rafe already at the stove, flipping eggs while JJ and John B leaned against the island, aggressively eating cereal straight from the box.

"Morning again, Angel," Rafe said, his demeanor instantly softening the second you walked through the door. He slid a perfectly cooked plate of eggs and toast toward you as you pulled out a stool.

"Ugh, I needed this." you said, hopping up, taking a forkful of eggs to your mouth. "The dressing room was like walking into hell.” You spoke through the mouthful. “And I think Ruthie is officially on a warpath."

“Tell me about it.” Rafe replied, throwing a look at you over his shoulder. “Topper tried to start shit with me as soon as I got into the room.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned off the stove and moved to sit down beside you, a plate of his own in front of him. “But I do feel like a bit of a dickhead for airing out the roof stuff in front of everybody. I didn't mean to drag Sarah into the crossfire, either. I just... I lost it when Ruthie started coming for you."

JJ paused mid-chew. "Bro, do not feel bad.” He cut in. “Top and Ruthie were moving shady as hell. They deserved to get exposed. You saved Sarah a lot of time, honestly."

"Agreed," John B chimed in, though he looked down at his bowl of cereal as he poured themilk, his fingers tapping nervously against the ceramic. "Actually... speaking of Sarah..."

You tilted your head, watching the way John B’s face was turning a steady shade of pink. "What's up?"

John B sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked up at you, JJ, and Rafe. "I’ve kind of... had a thing for her since Day One. When we did the coupling, I wanted her to go with me, but Topper got there first and she seemed so set on him. I didn't want to step on toes.” He confessed. “But seeing how he treated her? It kinda makes me sick. I mean, imagine what he’d do if they were actually together…"

JJ let out a loud gasp, slamming his hand on the counter. "I knew it! And you called me crazy, dude,” He exclaimed. “I knew you were looking at her with those big, puppy-dog eyes! Bro, you gotta get your girl!"

"It's not that easy," John B muttered, side-eyeing the blonde before looking at you. "...You're pretty close with her. Can you... I don't know, maybe talk to her? See where her head is at? I don't want to swoop in like a vulture if she’s still hung up on Topper."

You smiled, barely able to contain yourself. "No problem.” You shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do, John B. But…she’s still hurt, so, don't get your hopes up too much, okay?"

Before John B could thank you, the familiar, booming tri-tone chime of a phone echoed through the kitchen.

JJ pulled his phone from his pocket, his face lighting up. "Yo! Text!" He called, voice echoing throughout the villa as everyone emerged in the kitchen from different directions. 

“What’s it say?” Kie asked first as everyone crowded around the island.