Ruby willkins

"Mama" shivering while hugging her mama, "yeah, baby?" "Were those demons?" anxiousness clear in her little voice. "No, hun. There's no such thing as demons, only men", "But why were they so mean and nasty?" little sugar said, hugging her mama tightly. Natalie Carrased the face of her little doll, "Listen to me, okay. We can't talk about those men." sighs "if we talk about them, they come back right? They hear you talking and they come back. You dont want them coming back, do you?

"Hey… hey." The voice cut through everything. "Wake up." A hand on her arm. Warm. Real. "You're shivering." Sugar's eyes flew open. Dark ceiling. Wooden beams. The faint hum of insects outside. The smell of lake water. The cottage. Her chest was rising too fast.

"Hey," Gator said, softer now, leaning over her. "You’re alright." His thumb brushed her wrist unconsciously, like checking if she was still there. "I’m fine," she whispered. She wasn't.

He didn’t call her out. "Bad one?" he asked. She turned away. "Just a dream." Too quick.

He watched her for a moment longer than necessary. Then leaned back, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Those don't mean anything, right?" She didn’t answer. "what time is it?" She said, sitting up abruptly.

"Late, enough." Her stomach dropped instantly. "Gator." "Relax-"

"No," she snapped, already getting off the bed. "You need to go." That got his attention. He sat up straighter. "What?" "Atticus will be back."

The room shifted. Not fear. But something close to it. Atticus was Roy's Friend. Gator stood, slower now. Watching her rush, pulling on clothes, fixing herself as if she were erasing evidence.

"I could stay," he said, tone casual but edged. "See what happens." She let out a short, dry laugh. "You don’t want that kind of problem." His jaw tightened slightly.

"I’m the deputy," he said, a hint of that arrogance slipping in. "I am the problem" She turned to him then. For a second, something softer flickered in her eyes. "Not here," she said quietly. "Not with him." That landed. He looked away first. “Yeah,” he muttered.

"Same time tomorrow?" "…We’ll see." Hesitant, clear in her voice. He stepped closer. This time, slower. He leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to her forehead.

"I'll take that as a yes," he murmured. And then he left. The house felt wrong the moment she stepped in. Too quiet. The kind of silence that listens back. She suddenly remembered that Atticus had ordered her to make food today, as some maids were on leave. maid. Yes, ma'am, but Sugar wasn't a maid, isn't she? I mean, she was his wife, how can she be his maid? But that's how things work in this house. His house.

The dining table was empty. No food. No preparation. Her heart dropped. No no no....

The front door opened. Right on time. Atticus walked in like nothing in the world could ever surprise him. Because nothing ever did.

"Sugar." Her name sounded like ownership in his mouth. She turned slowly.

"I was just-" he pulled her in his embrace, by her hips, gripping her hips like she was something to play with. "Did you make me my food, love?" his old yet strong hand was gripping her body, making her tense. "I- ugh" before she could finish her statement. His eyes moved past her. To the table. To the untouched kitchen. Back to her. "You forgot.' Soft. carresing her cheek with his finger as if he was contemplating in his mind how he should punish you today, but some things were quite obvious, just like your punishments.

"I didn't-" He smiled. God. She hated that smile. "It’s alright," he said gently. "People forget things." Her chest tightened. "Isabell.”

The name carried through the house like a command. And she came. Of course she did. Always. "Yes?"

Atticus loosened his grip on Sugar, walking close to Isabell. Atticus didn’t even look at Sugar anymore. "Come here," he picked her up in bridal style in front of Sugar. Taunting Sugar's entire life. Sugar’s body went still. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe properly. She just stood there-

as he took Isabell and led her down the hallway. To the bedroom. Their bedroom. The door didn’t slam. It didn’t need to. It closed. And then-

Silence. For a moment. Just one. And then it started. Isabella's low moans at first, the shaking of the bed, the scene was so familiar to her that she could visualise the whole scene.

The bed shifting faintly against the floor. Sugar stood in the middle of the room, frozen. Her ears strained without permission. She hated that she could hear it. Hated more that she couldn’t not hear it.

A soft sound slipped through the walls. Then another. Isabell’s voice. Different. it was it sharp, it was as if isabell was enjoying this, humiliation act towards sugar.

Sugar’s stomach twisted violently. Her nails dug into her palms. Stop listening. Stop. But her body wouldn’t move. The sounds got clearer. Rhythmic. Unavoidable. Like something alive behind the walls. Her throat tightened. Not from jealousy. No. Something worse. Humiliation.

Something is crawling under her skin. Because this wasn’t about desire. It never was. This was punishment.

A message.

Sugar squeezed her eyes shut. Her breath came out unevenly. Why am I still standing here? Why am I listening? Why can’t I move- A sharper sound broke through. And something inside her snapped. She turned abruptly, walked out, fast-

You are replaceable.

You are nothing.

You are mine.

Morning didn't arrived easily. after atticus left. isabell came out of your shared bedroom with your husband. in her small sleeveless slip dress, detangling knots from her long blond bare hands, showing off all the marks he left on her.

it was nothing new, Atticus would do such stuff every then and now, but it still stings, not because you love him. Never love anyone. But because he was your husband, how could such a great husband do that to his wife? And that's how guilty pleasure starts, at first glancing at your husband's guest's son, who's older than you, but not like Atticus anyway.

"Enjoyed"? You asked, still cleaning some dishes, "Enjoy? He fucking devoured me? How do you survive him every night?" she asked mocking you.

sighs, "its not pleasurable with him to be honest, painful , he just know how to take, not to give" sudden sadness in your tone.

"Yeah, whatever, but he's got great di-" you ran to open the door, knowing exactly who it was " hii" "hey, excited much today? "huh" Huh," Gator grins, pulling you in a tight hug. isabell just rolled her eyes, she knew about them, knew too much. but decides to igore thier existence, she knew if she told Atticus about you both he might done worst stuff.

Gator took you to the guestroom; it's not just a guestroom for you both, it's literally a safe place for you both, where you both know that you are safe, contained in each other's arms.

After the door closed, you both started peeling each other's clothes like animals, and before you knew, he was already pushing you towards the bed, "remember.. no marks-" and before you could complete your statement, he pulled you in a rough kiss, "I know, trust me I know" resting his forehead on yours.

both of your clothes lying on floor, blanket pulled over till his mid riff. you like it that way, taking him under the blanket, kinda covered, like the blanket was protecting you, like a small home.

He rolled a condom over his cock, stroking it slowly.. up and down.. up and down, you staring at his long, girthy length, your cunt ready to swallow it. "What'cha looking at?" he grins, "gator" shyness evident in her voice. God, how can this be casual?

slowly pressing it in, he knew how you like taking him slow, you like it, softness in his touch, how he slowly fucks you, gentle yet perfect amount of roughness.

He slowly bottoms out in you, pressing soft kisses all over your face, kneading her breasts, giggles "gator baby, cmon" his speed fastens at her command, the room filled with the sounds of their love making in disguise.

after sometime,

You were cuddled up with him, both of you worn out, "that was great", "was it now?" he said, pulling her closer. " You seem stressed today?" you asked, playing with his chest hair.

"It's nothing, just .. one of my dad's old friends.. men to be more precise, was found dead..." he seemed hesitant. "wdym? There are killing happening in our town now?" "No, trust me.. don't be scared, must be an animal." "You sure?"

He didn't really wanna answer her question, didn't wanna scare the pure soul of yours. So he sushed you by kissing you. deep.

"Nice trick-" a loud truck noise was heard, "shit- shit gator"

The bass of the song pulsed through your chest, that thick, addictive reggaeton beat that made everything feel a little looser. A little easier. You were on your second drink, perched on a high stool near the edge of the bar, one leg crossed over the other. You didn’t come here to meet anyone. But the universe always had other plans, didn’t it?

“Still drinking the same thing you had an hour ago?”

The voice was familiar, annoyingly smooth. You didn’t even have to turn to know.

“Franco,” you said without looking, taking a slow sip through your straw. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He leaned on the bar beside you, all casual confidence and cocky energy, dressed in a fitted black tee and jeans that clung a little too well to his thighs.

“Didn’t expect you to look this good either.”

You finally glanced at him, eyes locking. There was that glint in his gaze. The one that always made your stomach tighten.

“Try harder. That line’s older than this bar.”

He grinned, sliding into the stool next to you.

“Alright. Let me try again. I saw you walk in, and I’ve been standing at the other end of the bar just watching. Trying to figure out if I should come over or leave it alone.”

“And?” you asked, raising a brow.

“And I said fuck it. Because you look like you’re waiting for trouble, and I happen to be excellent at causing it.”

Your lips twitched, fighting a smile. His hand brushed your bare knee, subtle, slow, and lingering like he had every right. You didn’t move it.

“La Difícil” played in the background, loud and dirty. You leaned in just enough to be heard, your voice just low enough to tease.

“She’s hard to get, huh?”

Franco didn’t miss a beat. His eyes dropped to your lips, then right back up.

“Yeah. But that just makes her worth it.”

You didn’t know who leaned closer first. Maybe it was both of you. Maybe it was the tequila. Maybe it was the fact that every time you saw Franco Colapinto, you remembered the way he touched you like he already knew your body. And the way he always left you wanting more.

“You always say the right thing,” you said, tilting your head. “Even when you shouldn’t.”

He reached out, fingers gently wrapping around your wrist, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your pulse point.

“Tell me to stop,” he said. “And I will.”

You stared at him for a long second. The bar kept spinning. The music kept thumping. And your heart matched every beat.

“I’m not going to,” you whispered.

He stood then, pulling you with him. Not rough, not fast. Just a silent command, and you followed. Through the crowd. Past the bathrooms. Down a hallway only half lit. He turned to you, backing you against the wall, his hand flat beside your head.

“You sure about this?”

You nodded. He leaned in but didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His mouth hovered just above yours, breath hot and intoxicating.

“You remember what happened last time?” he asked, voice rough now.

“I remember you left before I woke up,” you said.

Franco’s jaw clenched.

“Didn’t mean to. I had a flight.”

“I didn’t ask.”

He exhaled, something shifting in his expression. His hand slipped down your waist, fingers hooking into the belt loop of your jeans.

“I thought about you,” he said. “More than I should have.”

You hated how that made your breath hitch. You weren’t here for feelings. You were here for heat. For tension. For the way he looked at you like he wanted to ruin your night and fix it in the same breath.

“Then shut up and touch me.”

And he did.

His hands slid up under your top, fingertips dragging slowly along your spine. His lips finally met yours — hot, slow, deep. He kissed like a man who wanted to memorize every inch of your mouth. Tongue tasting, teeth scraping, hands gripping your hips like they were the only thing tethering him to the moment.

You moaned into him as he pressed you harder against the wall, his thigh slipping between your legs, the friction perfect and filthy.

“You wore this just to kill me, didn’t you?” he muttered against your neck, pulling the strap of your top down with his teeth.

“I didn’t wear it for you.”

“Liar,” he said, biting gently just below your ear. “You knew I’d find you.”

You dragged your nails down his back, earning a low groan from him.

“Franco.”

He froze. Just for a second. Then pulled back enough to look at you.

“You’re not just some hookup to me,” he said.

You blinked.

“This wasn’t supposed to be serious.”

“It still isn’t,” he said. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t think I want to.”

Your breath caught.

The music still played behind you. Another Bad Bunny song now. But everything had slowed down.

You looked at him, really looked.

And then, softer, quieter this time, you said,

“Then don’t stop.”

The cab ride was quiet, but not in a bad way. His hand never left your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth in a slow rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. Outside, the streets were slick with rain, red and yellow reflections from traffic lights smearing across the windows like paint strokes.

Franco leaned closer, whispering against your ear.

“You always this quiet after making out in dark corners of bars?”

You turned to him slowly, lips still slightly swollen.

“I’m just thinking about what happens next.”

He smirked, tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. “Yeah? And what exactly are you picturing?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, your hand slipped down, brushing over his knee, inching higher. He let out a sharp breath and grabbed your wrist, holding it still.

“Careful,” he said low. “We’re ten minutes away. Don’t make me lose my mind in a cab.”

You leaned in, lips ghosting over his jaw. “Then maybe hurry up and show me what you’ve been thinking about.”

He didn’t say anything else.. he just paid the driver too fast, pulled you out into the rain, and led you through a quiet building lobby like a man who couldn’t afford one more second of waiting.

The moment the apartment door shut behind you, his mouth was on yours again... greedy, open, searching. His hands cupped your face, then slid into your hair as he pressed you up against the entryway wall. The heat between you was electric, but there was something softer this time. He wasn’t rushing. He kissed you like he wanted to taste you for hours.

Clothes came off in pieces, scattered across the floor. Your shirt first, his next. Then jeans, socks, your bra unclipped with one hand and a low laugh.

“You remember everything,” you said breathless.

“Every single fucking detail,” he murmured, eyes trailing down your body. “I’ve replayed it too many times not to.”

He took a step back just to look. And God, the way he looked at you... like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen... it made something flip deep in your stomach.

“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Franco walked back up slowly and took your face in both hands. His voice was rough but honest.

“Just... can’t believe you’re actually here.”

And then he lifted you... just like that... and carried you to the bedroom.

The mattress dipped under your weight, and before you could even adjust, his mouth was back on your skin. Kisses trailed down your neck, your chest, your stomach. His fingers teased every inch of you, exploring like he was rediscovering. You arched up into him, chasing his touch.

“Still taste like you did last time,” he whispered against your inner thigh. “Sweet. Addictive.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he dipped his head lower, and everything after that became a blur of moans, gasps, and begging. He took his time... no rush, no pressure, just patient, aching pleasure. He didn’t let you come easily, either. Every time you were close, he’d slow down just enough to keep you hanging.

“Franco,” you panted, “please... I need...”

His voice was a growl against your skin. “I know exactly what you need. Let me give it to you right.”

When you finally did come, it was with a cry muffled by the back of your hand, your entire body trembling as he held you through it.

And then he kissed his way back up your body, slow and open-mouthed, until he was hovering over you again. His hair was messy, lips swollen, eyes dark and focused only on you.

“Still want this?” he asked, voice low.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in.

“I came back with you, didn’t I?”

That was all he needed.

When he finally slid into you, it was slow and deep, his forehead pressed against yours. There were no games now. No jokes. Just your name on his lips and his name on yours.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t rough. It was maddeningly slow... the kind of slow that burned. He kissed you through every stroke, whispered things against your neck, touched you like he was making a memory out of every second.

And when you came again, it was with his name in your mouth and your nails dragging down his back. He followed soon after, collapsing onto you, both of you breathless, sticky, warm.

You lay there in silence. His head rested on your chest, and your fingers absentmindedly traced circles along his shoulder.

“Tell me this wasn’t a one-time thing,” he murmured.

You looked down at him. “I thought we weren’t doing serious.”

He looked up, smirk tugging at his lips. “We’re not.”

“So what are we doing?”

Franco shifted until he was eye level with you again. He kissed your cheek. Your jaw. The corner of your mouth.

“Something in between.”

You smiled, letting your hand cup his face. “Then maybe we see what happens next.”

THE GALLERY OF MEMORY

A grand stage is lit like a dream: soft golds, flickering candle-like lights, and screens that surround the space.

The 12 finalists walk in one by one:

Bella — all heels and heat.

Natalie — soft strength in her smile.

Revan — eyes fixed, calculating.

Laila — radiant and tender.

Cassie — sparkling nervously.

Lando, Lewis, Franco, Isack, Charles, Oscar, and Carlos — each wearing shades of emotion on their faces.

No cheering. No clapping. Just reverent silence.

The walls flicker to life.

A montage begins, showing each of them — not in victory, but in vulnerability.

Laila crying during week 4’s task.

Charles looking at Y/N’s empty bed.

Oscar whispering to Y/N in the rain.

Bella watching Charles from the hallway.

Natalie helping Y/N fix her mic.

Franco yelling at himself in the mirror.

Revan, before she changed.

Carlos smiling at Y/N in the kitchen.

The crowd watching in silence.

When Y/N’s clips start — the entire room shifts.

Her laughter. Her kisses. Her broken moments. Her confessionals. Her silence.

When it ends — no one moves.

Charles’ lips part. His whisper floats into the dark.

“She should be here.”

Bella’s Breaking Point

As the host welcomes the final 12 to the last stage of the game, Bella’s voice cuts through the atmosphere like a razor:

Bella (loud):

“Look, let’s not romanticize it. Y/N was good at charming people. Not winning.”

A few gasps. Cassie tries not to nod.

Revan smirks.

But Charles stands instantly.

Charles:

“Say her name one more time like that, and I swear—”

Bella (laughing):

“You think this is some tragic romance? She left. Game over.”

Lando (calm, but sharp):

“She didn’t leave. She was pushed out.”

Oscar:

“And it broke something in all of us.”

Bella rolls her eyes, but her knuckles are white.

The others sit in uncomfortable silence.

The first real crack of the finale.

TASK I: “The Timeline”

Challenge: Each of the 12 finalists must retrace the entire season. The catch? Each week contains a secret no one knew. For every truth they discover, they move forward. For every lie they hold onto — they lose time.

The game board lights up — like a physical calendar trail across the room.

Lewis steps up first.

Week 1 lights up.

“What lie did you tell during the truth circle?”

Lewis swallows.

“I said I didn’t care about winning. But I do.”

He advances.

Revan’s turn.

week 2 lights.

“What did you say to Laila behind Y/N’s back?”

Revan hesitates.

“I said she didn’t deserve him.”

The screen flashes RED. She lied again.

Each contestant goes through it. The task lasts nearly an hour.

But the most watched moment?

Charles — Week 1

“What did you feel when you saw Y/N and Oscar kiss?”

He breathes.

“Like I had no air left.”

He’s allowed to pass.

When it ends, Oscar, Charles, Lando, Natalie and Isack are in the lead.

Bella? Dead last.

TASK II: “Reflections”

Each finalist is brought into a glass room alone.

Inside?

Every confessional clip from others — about them.

Cassie watches Natalie say she’s "a follower."

Revan hears Charles say “She changed the moment Y/N became a threat.”

Franco watches Oscar whisper “Franco doesn’t know what he wants.”

But it’s Carlos’ room that goes silent.

He watches Y/N’s clip.

“Carlos makes me feel steady. Like if the world shook, he wouldn’t.”

Carlos tears up — without hiding it.

Lando watches her say:

“I think with him, I’m always expecting the sky to split open.”

And then he whispers to no one:

“You were the storm, Y/N. Not me.”

THE UNTHINKABLE

The lights go dark.

Then a screen flickers on.

Host:

“This season, we challenged hearts. But now, the past comes back… to finish the story.”

The door to the stage opens.

One by one… every eliminated contestant walks in.

Max. Alice. Jessica. Revan. Natalie. Laila. Cassie.

Then — finally — Y/N.

She steps into the light, head high.

The audience screams.

Oscar runs to her, lifts her off the ground in a hug.

Oscar (whispers):

“You came back.”

Y/N (smiles):

“Not to play. Just to finish the story.”

Lando (softly):

“You look like you belong here.”

Charles just stares — his eyes filled with everything he didn’t say.

THE FINAL TASK: “Stillness”

All 12 finalists plus the 4 eliminated contestants as guests now gather outside.

A giant marble platform floats over water. Each contestant must balance — in silence — for as long as possible. No movement. No talking. The one left wins.

They step on.

One by one — they fall.

Cassie slips at 12 minutes.

Franco at 18.

Laila at 21.

Natalie at 29.

Revan — after staring at Y/N — at 33.

Isack — 40.

Carlos — 45.

Bella — 47, furious.

Oscar and Charles — both trembling, make it past 1 hour.

Charles steps off, again, whispering to Lando:

“If she wants me, she’ll come.”

Lando wins.

Again.

But he doesn’t react. He just looks at Y/N.

The Final Choice

Lando & Y/N

They walk side by side by the pool.

Lando (quietly):

“I loved you before you even liked me.”

Y/N:

“I liked you before I admitted it.”

Lando:

“But you’re not choosing me.”

Y/N:

“No.”

He nods.

Lando (whispers):

“Then at least promise you’ll be happy. That’s all I wanted.”

She kisses his cheek — slow and grateful.

Oscar & Y/N

In the hallway where it all started.

Oscar:

“Why didn’t you tell me it was you who kissed me in the storm?”

Y/N (laughs):

“I thought you knew.”

Oscar:

“No… I just felt it. That night. That pain.”

Y/N:

“You made it bearable.”

Oscar:

“And you made me feel like fire. But fire fades too, doesn’t it?”

She nods — eyes watery.

Charles & Y/N

Back at the garden.

Charles:

“You broke me. And then you came back.”

Y/N:

“I didn’t come back for the game.”

Charles:

“Then why?”

She steps closer.

Y/N:

“Because you never stopped choosing me. Even when I didn’t.”

He kisses her forehead.

Y/N:

“So I’m choosing you now. Not because the story needs it… But because I do.”

They kiss. Full. Slow. Not for anyone but them.

Charles and Y/N stand alone in the garden. The rest of the house is quiet, everyone watching from inside — uncertain, breathless.

She reaches for his hand.

Y/N (softly):

“For the first time… I’m not scared of choosing wrong.”

Charles:

“You never could.”

Y/N Confessional

“I didn’t win the show. I just won the ending I wanted.”

THE END.

MORNING TASK — “Burn to Rise”

The villa gathers at sunrise. A brutal task awaits the four nominees.

Task Rules:

Each contestant must balance on a heated metal platform, barefoot, while holding a full bucket of water.

The last to remain wins.

And the winner gets to nominate one SAFE contestant to replace them in the elimination round.

The cast gasps.

It means someone who thought they were safe… won’t be anymore.

THE TASK BEGINS

Natalie is the first to drop — shaking from the heat.

Jessica curses as her bucket spills.

Revan holds on, teeth gritted, sweating, glaring across at Bella.

Bella:

“This isn’t about strength. It’s about who wants it more.”

Revan (through clenched teeth):

“Then get ready to lose.”

But it’s Bella who lasts longest — toes blistered, hands raw — she doesn’t drop.

She wins.

TWIST: BELLA’S CHOICE

The cast stares, waiting.

Producer Voice:

“Bella, you are safe. Name one contestant to take your place in the elimination task tonight.”

Everyone braces.

Bella smirks — and turns to Y/N.

Bella (sweetly):

“I nominate Y/N.”

Stunned silence.

Oscar (snaps):

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Bella (shrugs):

“She’s had her love triangle, her tears, her edits. Let’s see how real she is when she’s fighting for her life.”

Y/N (quiet):

“You really want me gone that badly?”

Bella:

“I want a finale that’s about us. Not the camera’s favorite.”

Y/N & CHARLES

Charles finds her in the corner room, shaking.

Charles:

“She blindsided you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Y/N (soft):

“Maybe I did. Maybe I should’ve left weeks ago.”

Charles (urgent):

“Stop. Don’t say that.”

He grabs her hand.

Charles:

“If this was real life, I would’ve told you I loved you weeks ago. But I wanted it to be your moment. Your choice.”

Y/N:

“And now it’s my last one.”

Charles (tears welling):

“Then make it mean something.”

He kisses her forehead.

EVENING TASK — “Line in the Fire”

The courtyard is transformed into a glowing battlefield.

Task:

Each contestant must race across a rope bridge suspended over fire-lit coals.

They must collect puzzle pieces at the far end, return, and solve the puzzle before the timer runs out.

It’s physical. Mental. And terrifying.

THE RACE BEGINS

Jessica struggles with balance but pushes through.

Revan is quick but fumbles puzzle pieces.

Natalie is slow but methodical.

Y/N runs hard, heart pounding — focused.

But her rope snaps mid-return.

She falls — not into flames, but onto the netting below.

Still safe. But time’s lost.

She climbs back. Tries. Pushes.

But she’s too late.

The buzzer sounds.

Y/N has lost.

Gasps ripple.

SHE CHOOSES

Producer Voice:

“Y/N. You have lost the challenge. You must now name one other contestant… to eliminate.”

Y/N breathes heavy. Her legs shake.

Jessica (smirking):

“Go ahead. Prove we were always the villains.”

Revan (glaring):

“Choose wisely, sweetheart.”

Natalie (tears in her eyes):

“Don’t choose me. But if you must… I’ll understand.”

Y/N’s eyes flicker to the boys.

Charles. Lando. Franco. Oscar. Carlos. Lewis.

All watching her fall apart.

She closes her eyes.

Y/N:

“Jessica.”

Jessica (flatly):

“Of course. Always the easy way out.”

She storms out, no goodbyes. No words.

THE SHOCK

“Y/N, please pack your bags. You have been eliminated.”

It takes a full five seconds before anyone even breathes.

Lando’s jaw drops.

Oscar shakes his head, blinking.

Charles mutters, “No, no, no,” under his breath.

Laila gasps. Natalie bursts into tears. Franco looks like he might break something.

Y/N’s lips part. But she doesn’t speak.

She just stands there, unmoving, like she’s waiting for someone to say just kidding.

No one does.

Y/N & CHARLES (STORAGE ROOM)

He finds her alone, shoving her things into a small duffel.

Charles:

“You’re not actually going.”

Y/N:

“Apparently, I am.”

Charles (quietly):

“You can’t.”

She finally turns to look at him — her eyes are glassy, but not crying yet.

Y/N:

“They made me choose someone to go. Then made me go right after. That’s not a task. That’s punishment.”

Charles (tears welling):

“Punishment for what? For being honest? For feeling everything?”

She just stares at him.

Charles (stepping closer):

“You were the best part of this show. And they’re cutting you because you didn’t play dirty.”

Y/N (softly):

“Or maybe because I didn’t pick them. I picked… too many people. Maybe it’s punishment for being confused.”

Charles (angrily):

“No. You don’t owe anyone clarity when they never gave you safety.”

Silence.

Then he walks up and takes her hand.

Charles (quiet):

“I should’ve kissed you that night on the rooftop.”

Y/N:

“You still can.”

He does.

Slow. Heavy. Like goodbye.

When they pull apart, he presses his forehead to hers.

Charles (whispers):

“I don’t know how to want this without you here.”

Y/N:

“Then don’t want it.”

And she walks out of the room, hand sliding from his like a scene fading to black.

Y/N & OSCAR (BACKYARD)

She finds Oscar by the pool, legs in the water, eyes glazed over.

Oscar (without looking):

“I was hoping they’d say it was a mistake.”

Y/N (sits next to him):

“Me too.”

Silence.

Then:

Oscar:

“Do you remember the rain night? When we kissed?”

Y/N (smiles):

“You said you’d stay until I put myself back together.”

Oscar:

“And now you’re leaving while I’m still broken.”

Y/N:

“You’re stronger than you think.”

Oscar:

“You make me strong. You—” He cuts off. Swallows.

Oscar:

“You were the only one who made me feel like I wasn’t pretending. Like I could just… be.”

Y/N:

“You don’t need me to be real.”

Oscar (eyes shining):

“No. But I wanted you here when I figured it out.”

She leans her head on his shoulder. They don’t speak for a while.

Then she stands.

Y/N:

“If they ask who I really was, tell them I was the part of the show that felt like truth.”

Oscar (softly):

“You were the truth.”

Y/N & LANDO (BALCONY)

Lando stands alone, arms crossed, staring at the moon. She walks up slowly.

Lando (bitterly):

“I shouldn’t have let Charles get in my head. I should’ve talked to you sooner. Should’ve fought harder.”

Y/N:

“It’s not your fault.”

Lando:

“But it’s not not my fault either.”

He finally looks at her.

Lando:

“I was so busy proving I could have you… that I forgot to ask if I deserved you.”

Y/N (sad smile):

“You deserved me. Maybe not all the time. But sometimes. And sometimes is enough.”

Lando (steps closer):

“I would’ve given you more time. If we had it.”

Y/N:

“We don’t. So let’s not waste what’s left.”

They don’t kiss. They just hug.

It lasts a long time. His hand grips her shirt like he doesn’t want to let go.

THE FINAL GOODBYE

Everyone is in the living room now.

Y/N walks in with her bag.

Charles is sitting on the floor, head in hands. Oscar and Lando are pacing.

Laila and Natalie are sobbing.

Carlos:

“You don’t have to go. They’ll change it.”

Y/N (soft):

“They won’t. They made it clear. The girl who was too real doesn’t sell.”

Franco (quietly):

“They played god. And killed the one thing we all cared about.”

Laila:

“You were the glue.”

Natalie (choking):

“Who do I even talk to now?”

She hugs each of them one by one.

Some hugs are silent.

Some are messy, wet with tears.

Then she walks to the door.

CHARLES

Charles (stands, shaky):

“Wait.”

She turns.

Charles (louder):

“WAIT.”

He walks to her, eyes red, breathing fast.

Charles:

“Tell me what to do.”

Y/N:

“You can’t do anything.”

Charles (desperate):

“No. Tell me how to make it not happen.”

Y/N (chokes a little):

“You can’t.”

He grabs her hand.

Then both hands. Drops to his knees.

Charles (sobbing):

“I’m sorry. I should’ve said I loved you before it was too late.”

Y/N (kneeling too):

“It’s not too late. You’re saying it now.”

They cry together. No one moves.

Even the producers behind the camera are silent.

Y/N (whispers):

“Win this. And remember who you’re winning for.”

She stands, kisses his forehead, and finally walks away.

The door shuts.

And the room breaks.

To Be Continue...

The drive from the track to the hotel was quiet. Kimi had barely said a word since the race ended and you could tell he was still carrying the weight of it. You knew him well enough to understand that he hated poor results, but even more than that, he hated the feeling of letting down the people who believed in him.

You glanced over at him from the passenger seat, watching the way his jaw was tight and his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“Kimi,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, “it was not that bad.”

He gave a small exhale through his nose and shook his head, his eyes never leaving the road. “It was bad for me,” he muttered.

You frowned, wishing you could say the exact thing that would take the sting away. “You pushed as hard as you could. Everyone saw that. It was not your fault the car was not perfect today.”

“I still hate losing,” he replied simply. His voice was low, almost flat, but you could feel the frustration behind it.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the ride, letting him have his space, though you wished you could pull him out of his mood.

When you both reached the hotel, you walked up to the check-in desk together. The receptionist smiled politely before tapping at the keyboard. “We have you in a double room,” she said.

You frowned. “Double? As in one bed?”

“Yes, I am afraid that is all we have left,” the receptionist explained. “The city is fully booked tonight because of the event. There are no twin rooms available.”

Kimi closed his eyes briefly as if the universe was determined to push him further into his bad mood. “Fine,” he muttered. “Just give the key.”

You followed him up to the room, dragging your small suitcase behind you. When you stepped inside, you saw the bed immediately. One large double bed sat in the middle of the room, crisp white sheets tucked perfectly at the corners. You looked at Kimi and could see the way his expression hardened even more.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he said quickly. “I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”

Your heart squeezed at the way he said it, his voice softer now. “Kimi, no. You are not sleeping on the floor. It is just a bed. We are best friends, we can handle it.”

He hesitated before finally nodding. “If you are sure.”

“I am sure,” you said firmly. “Now… do you want to shower first?”

He just shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked completely drained. You stepped closer and crouched down in front of him, tilting your head to try and catch his gaze.

“Kimi… talk to me,” you whispered.

He finally lifted his eyes to meet yours and your breath caught at the sadness in them. “I feel like I am wasting my time sometimes,” he admitted. “I try and try but still it is not enough. It makes me feel… tired.”

You reached up and cupped his jaw gently, your thumb brushing over the rough stubble there. “You are not wasting your time. You are one of the best drivers in the world. Everyone knows that. Even if today was not good, it does not erase everything you have done. You are Kimi.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, almost a smile, and he leaned into your hand. The small shift in his posture made your chest ache.

“Thank you,” he murmured quietly.

You sat next to him on the bed, your thigh brushing against his. Neither of you moved away. Instead, you felt the air between you grow heavier, thicker. It was not the first time you had been this close, but tonight it felt different.

“Kimi…” you started softly.

He turned his head, his icy blue eyes locking with yours. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as you realized how close his face was to yours. “What?” he asked, his voice low.

“I do not want you to feel alone,” you whispered.

“You make sure I do not,” he replied instantly, and there was no hesitation in his tone.

Your breath hitched when his hand brushed against yours. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers laced through yours, warm and steady. He held your gaze as if silently asking for permission. You did not look away.

“Kimi,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He shifted closer until your knees were touching, and then his other hand came up to cup the side of your face. The warmth of his palm against your skin made your eyes flutter shut for a moment. When you opened them again, he was already leaning in.

His lips brushed against yours softly at first, tentative, like he was afraid of ruining what you already had. But when you kissed him back, the hesitation melted away. The kiss deepened slowly, his mouth moving against yours with a sweetness that sent shivers down your spine.

“Kimi,” you murmured against his lips, your hand resting against his chest where you could feel his heartbeat racing.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, your fingers tightening around his shirt. “I am sure. I want this. I want you.”

His lips crashed against yours again, this time with more urgency. He pulled you gently onto his lap, his hands sliding up your back as if he could not get close enough. The kiss was slow but intense, his tongue brushing against yours, sending sparks through your entire body.

When you finally pulled away to breathe, you pressed your forehead against his, your eyes half-lidded. “You do not need to be sad tonight,” you whispered. “I am here. I want to make you feel better.”

Kimi’s hands moved softly along your sides, his touch careful but full of longing. “You already do,” he murmured.

You spent the rest of the night in the warm tangle of sheets, your bodies pressed close, kissing softly and whispering things neither of you had admitted before. You held him until his tension melted away completely, your fingers tracing slow patterns on his skin as he looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

It was the first time either of you admitted what had been there all along. And as you drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, you realized that you never wanted to spend another night without him.

DAY 28 — SILENCE AFTER STORM

Y/N sits alone on the steps of the garden. Morning sun. But she feels cold.

Inside, the house is still reeling from what they saw the night before.

Lando. Oscar. Charles. Franco. They all watched it too.

Her kisses with Charles. Her soft moments with Oscar. Her fights. Her confusion. Her pain.

All of it… was real. Even if it was cut to look like it wasn’t.

Y/N & OSCAR

Oscar walks up quietly, sliding down beside her.

Oscar:

“I saw you crying last night.”

Y/N (doesn’t look at him):

“I feel like I’ve been living someone else’s life.”

Oscar (softly):

“They used your heart like a weapon. But you made it through, still human.”

Y/N (dry):

“Barely.”

Oscar leans back, looks at the sky.

Oscar:

“Why are you stressed? It’s not like they’ll send their most played character home.”

Y/N blinks, then laughs. A real one.

Y/N:

“Wow. That was… darkly comforting.”

Oscar (smirks):

“I specialize in that.”

IN THE LIVING ROOM

The cast gathers.

Tension. Nobody knows what’s next.

Suddenly, the screen turns on.

“This is not a drill.” “Due to recent events, you will nominate four people to compete in the next elimination task.” “Two will go home.” “Each of you will privately name the four.”

Everyone’s eyes dart across the room. Suspicion. Strategy. Survival.

CONFESSIONAL NOMINATIONS — SELECTED

Lando:

“Bella. Revan. Jessica. Franco.” (He hesitates before saying Franco’s name.)

Oscar:

“Bella. Jessica. Charles. Revan.” (He avoids nominating Y/N.)

Jessica:

“Y/N. Franco. Natalie. Laila.” (Grinning) “Let’s shake things up.”

Charles:

“Bella. Jessica. Revan. Natalie.” (Firm voice, no hesitation.)

Franco:

“Jessica. Bella. Revan. Charles.” (Sighs deeply) “Hate playing God.”

Carlos:

“Bella. Jessica. Revan. Natalie.”

Laila:

“Jessica. Bella. Revan. Franco.” (Quietly) “Sorry.”

Natalie:

“Jessica. Revan. Bella. Laila.”

Y/N:

“Bella. Jessica. Revan. Natalie.” (Eyes empty) “Let’s see what truth survives.”

NOMINEES ANNOUNCED

“The house has spoken. The four nominees are: Bella. Jessica. Revan. Natalie. Two of you will go home… tomorrow.”

Bella smirks. Jessica flips her hair. Revan swallows hard. Natalie looks down.

LANDO & Y/N (KITCHEN)

He watches her stir coffee, silent.

Lando:

“They took our kiss out.”

Y/N (flatly):

“Not surprised. It didn’t fit the plot.”

Lando (steps closer):

“But it meant something, right?”

She sighs. Doesn’t look at him.

Y/N:

“Yeah. But now I don’t know if it meant something to me… or to the show.”

Lando:

“It meant something to me. And that has nothing to do with edits.”

He walks away before she can respond.

She stares after him, aching.

REACTIONS AROUND THE VILLA

Jessica (to Bella):

“You think Revan’s gonna cry when she gets cut?”

Bella (laughs):

“She’ll fake it for Lando.”

Jessica (mocking):

“'Why her and not meeee’ — girl, write a song already.”

Franco (overhearing):

“If you two put as much effort into connection as you do drama, you’d have been finalists.”

Bella:

“Oh please. You’re a walking red flag with a six-pack.”

Franco:

“And still more genuine than your entire existence.”

Jessica (cold):

“Just wait. You’ll miss us when we’re gone.”

Oscar (from behind):

“Promise?”

TASK TWIST

The house gathers in the yard.

Producer Voiceover:

“Today’s task is called: ‘Rewritten.’ Each pair must act out a deleted moment — one that the show cut, altered, or manipulated.”

A screen flickers behind them, playing the cut scenes one by one.

Deleted Kisses. Private Conversations. Soft confessions. Angry breakdowns.

The cast gasps.

TASK PAIRINGS:

Y/N & Charles – The rooftop almost-kiss.

Y/N & Oscar – The kiss after the storm — deleted from Episode 12.

Y/N & Franco – The secret hallway confessional scene — never aired.

Lando & Bella – The forced kiss moment played to manipulate Y/N.

Jessica & Revan – Their secret alliance moment — exposed.

Carlos & Laila – Their flirtatious cooking fail — never shown.

REENACTMENTS BEGIN:

SCENE: Y/N & CHARLES (ROOFTOP)

Charles (soft):

“I would’ve kissed you if they hadn’t cut to black.”

Y/N (shaky):

“Would you still kiss me now, knowing no one can edit it?”

He steps closer.

Charles:

“Yes.”

He doesn’t kiss her. But he touches her face. Foreheads press. It’s intimate. Pure. Uncut.

SCENE: Y/N & OSCAR (STORM NIGHT)

Y/N:

“You make me feel like I’m allowed to break.”

Oscar (quiet):

“Break here. I’ll stay until you put the pieces back.”

He kisses her.

This time — it stays.

SCENE: Y/N & FRANCO (HALLWAY CONFESSIONAL)

They stand facing each other.

Y/N:

“You always say I confuse you.”

Franco:

“Because you’re the only chaos I’d choose.”

He touches her cheek.

But this time, Y/N steps back.

Y/N (soft):

“I’m tired of being chosen in silence.”

Franco watches her walk away.

This time, the camera doesn’t cut.

Y/N’S MELTDOWN

She sits alone in the villa bathroom.

Shoulders shaking. Makeup smeared.

Y/N (whispers):

“Was any of it real? Or did they write my whole heart too?”

The door creaks.

Natalie:

“They didn’t write me. I was real. And I’ll always be your friend. No edits.”

Y/N pulls her into a hug. Real. Honest. Raw.

SHOCKING ENDING

The house is silent again as the moon rises.

Oscar, Charles, Franco, and Lando sit around the fire.

Oscar:

“She’s breaking.”

Charles:

“And we all had a hand in it.”

Lando:

“But who will she trust when it’s over?”

Suddenly, the PA system buzzes.

“Production update: Two eliminations will take place tomorrow. But only one is voted out by the cast. The other? Will be chosen by Y/N.”

Everyone turns.

Shock.

Franco (under his breath):

“They’re making her choose…”

Oscar (furious):

“They’re turning her into the villain.”

Charles:

“And she’ll hate herself for it.”

To Be Continue..

DAY 27 — PRESSURE COOKER

Only three days remain.

The villa is quiet — too quiet — the kind that comes before someone screams or kisses or quits.

OUTDOOR LOUNGE: FRANCO & CHARLES

Franco leans back on the daybed, a note half-folded in his hand.

Charles (eyeing the paper):

“That looks like trouble.”

Franco:

“You have no idea.”

Charles:

“Then enlighten me.”

Franco hesitates.

Franco (finally):

“The producers are playing her. Controlling what footage gets shown. Who gets seen with her. Even who gets blamed.”

Charles (dead serious):

“How do you know?”

Franco hands him the second note.

Charles reads it, jaw tightening.

Charles:

“They’re using her like a storyline.”

Franco:

“Like she’s not a person. And I think she’s starting to feel it.”

Charles (folding the note):

“Then we stop it. No more protecting their show.”

Franco looks at him — surprised, impressed.

They shake on it.

KITCHEN: Y/N, LAILA, JESSICA, BELLA

Everyone’s cooking lunch together. There’s tension — unspoken — as always.

Y/N (to Laila):

“Where’s the paprika?”

Bella (grinning):

“Probably wherever you left your self-awareness, babe.”

Jessica (raising an eyebrow):

“Oh please, Bella. You’re one bad fake cry away from getting cut again.”

Bella (rolling her eyes):

“Jealousy doesn’t look cute on you.”

Jessica (grins):

“No, but exposing you does.”

The room stills.

Jessica (to everyone):

“Bella’s been sleeping in the producer lounge.”

Silence. Then:

Laila:

“Wait— what?”

Bella (defensive):

“It’s not what it sounds like.”

Jessica:

“Oh no? You said you were ‘charging your phone’ every night. But I saw you sneaking out in his hoodie.”

Bella:

“You don’t know anything.”

Jessica (loud):

“You’re trying to make it to the finale with them, not with us.”

Y/N (coldly):

“Is that how you got the edited footage of Lando’s kiss?”

Bella’s face turns white.

Bella:

“Screw this. You all think you’re better?”

Y/N:

“No. Just honest.”

Bella (screaming):

“You think this place is about honesty? You’re all just pawns!”

Jessica:

“Some of us don’t sleep with the chess master.”

Bella lunges — and it takes both Laila and Oscar to pull her back.

Laila (half-laughing):

“Oh my god, what is this — Love & Warzone?”

CONFESSIONAL – Y/N

“The show was a mess from day one. But now? We’re not just surviving the game. We’re surviving each other.”

PACKAGE AT THE GATE

Natalie walks up to the door where a package sits, marked:

“FOR Y/N. PRIVATE.”

She frowns, brings it to the living room.

Everyone gathers.

Oscar:

“Did someone send fan mail?”

Y/N (opens the package): Inside is a burner phone — no sender, no message.

Everyone stares.

The phone buzzes to life.

One text.

“Ask them why they cut out your first kiss with Oscar. And why Charles’ confessions never made it to the final edit. They’re rewriting your story.”

Y/N (quietly):

“Someone’s watching.”

Franco (in her ear):

“Not just someone. Everyone.”

She turns to him, stunned.

Y/N:

“You knew.”

Franco:

“I didn’t want to believe it. But the proof keeps showing up.”

Y/N & FRANCO (PRIVATE)

Out on the back steps, where no cameras are officially allowed.

Y/N (low):

“Tell me everything.”

He hands her the two notes.

Franco:

“I found them under the deck. And outside the producer room. They’ve been controlling everything. Lando. Oscar. Even Charles.”

Y/N (sinking):

“They never wanted me to choose. They wanted me to react.”

Franco:

“They turned you into a storyline. And we let them.”

Y/N (voice cracking):

“How do I fix this?”

Franco:

“Burn it down.”

TASK ANNOUNCEMENT: “ONE WORD”

“Tonight’s task is ONE WORD. You’ll all gather under the courtyard lights. Each person must choose ONE word to describe each housemate. No filters. No apologies.”

This is going to be war.

THE TASK — EMOTIONS UNLEASHED

Jessica (to Bella):

“Manipulative.”

Bella (to Jessica):

“Irrelevant.”

Y/N (to Franco):

“Complicated.”

Franco (to Y/N):

“Unforgettable.”

Oscar (to Charles):

“Presentable.”

Charles (to Oscar):

“Ghost.”

Lando (to Y/N):

“Home.”

Her breath catches.

Y/N (to Lando):

“Dangerous.”

Revan (to Y/N):

“Thief.”

Silence again.

Y/N (to Revan):

“Transparent.”

Carlos (to Y/N):

“Storm.”

Lewis (to Y/N):

“Anchor.”

Natalie (watching all of this):

“Therapy’s gonna love this footage.”

NIGHT – BONFIRE

A fire crackles. Y/N sits between Oscar and Charles. Lando is across the pit. Franco lingers in the dark behind her.

Oscar (quietly):

“You okay?”

Y/N (soft):

“No. But I’m not scared anymore.”

Charles:

“What are you thinking?”

Y/N:

“That if I’m going to fall… I want to choose who catches me.”

Charles places a soft hand on her back.

Across the fire, Lando watches — expression unreadable.

Franco lights a cigarette, staring into the flames.

Franco (muttering):

“Time to make it public.”

PRODUCER’S HACK

Franco breaks into the control room.

Finds the live editing board.

And uploads the two notes. Then attaches the footage from the burner phone.

Franco (into the mic):

“If you’re going to make her a show… make sure the world sees who’s directing it.”

He uploads it to the villa’s internal network.

All TVs flicker to life.

ENTIRE VILLA WATCHES THE TRUTH

Everyone runs to the main lounge.

TVs play the full footage. The producer’s notes. The deleted kisses. The edited confessions. The cast reactions.

Y/N stands in the center.

The room is silent.

Lando:

“They used all of us.”

Jessica (to Bella):

“You were in on it?”

Bella (defeated):

“I thought it’d get me to the finale.”

Y/N (quietly):

“And now?”

Bella:

“I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

To Be Continued...

DAY 26 – “ALMOST THERE”

The villa feels heavier today. There are only 4 days left.

People smile, but it doesn’t reach their eyes.

Franco still hasn’t told Y/N about the note. He watches her now — deep in thought — sitting with Carlos under the lemon tree.

Y/N & CARLOS

Carlos (softly):

“You don’t smile like you used to.”

Y/N (laughs lightly):

“Maybe because I used to think this was a game. Now it feels like a maze.”

Carlos:

“So stop running. Sit in it. Figure out what makes you want to stay.”

Y/N (looking at him):

“You’ve been quiet through all of it. Observing. Why?”

Carlos (shrugs):

“Because I didn’t come here to fight over people. But then I met you.”

Y/N:

“And?”

Carlos (serious):

“And now I’m fighting myself.”

Her throat tightens. There’s something gentle about Carlos — stable, comforting — and somehow just out of reach.

Y/N (smiles faintly):

“You make silence feel safe.”

He brushes a thumb against her knuckle.

Carlos:

“Stay with me a little longer.”

IN THE KITCHEN: Y/N & LEWIS

Y/N walks in for juice and finds Lewis alone at the counter.

Lewis:

“The quiet always finds us, doesn’t it?”

Y/N:

“You’re always in it. I just visit.”

Lewis:

“That’s the thing. You don’t just visit — you shift it. Make the silence ache.”

She blinks.

Y/N:

“We never talk much.”

Lewis:

“Doesn’t mean I don’t see you.”

He hands her the glass.

Lewis (softly):

“You think you’re breaking apart. But really, you’re shedding what isn’t yours to carry.”

She breathes in deeply, staring at the floor.

Y/N (whispers):

“What if I don’t know what’s mine anymore?”

Lewis:

“Then wait. The truth always arrives. Usually loud.”

They smile at each other.

It’s not chemistry. It’s peace.

And she needed it.

TASK ANNOUNCEMENT — “FALL FOR ME”

“Welcome to Fall For Me. You and your partner will be blindfolded and must guide each other across a rope course above the pool — using only your voice. One leads. One falls — on purpose. The other catches. You will not know who catches whom until it happens.”

Winner gets a private sunset dinner on the rooftop. No cameras.

Pairs:

Y/N & Lando

Charles & Cassie

Franco & Bella

Oscar & Jessica

Carlos & Laila

Revan & Lewis

Natalie volunteers to sit out

THE TASK: Y/N & LANDO

Tension radiates between them as the blindfolds go on.

Y/N (to Lando):

“Can I trust you to catch me?”

Lando (low):

“I never stopped wanting to.”

She grips the rope. Above the pool. Heart pounding.

Y/N:

“Left. Straight. Stop.”

His breath is ragged.

Lando:

“You okay?”

Y/N:

“Don’t talk. Just follow.”

When it’s time — she lets go. She doesn’t know if he’ll catch her. The drop feels like forever.

But she lands — safely.

In his arms.

They don’t let go right away.

Lando (whispers):

“Do you hate me?”

Y/N (quiet):

“No. That would be easier.”

They win.

ROOFTOP DINNER: Y/N & LANDO

No cameras. Just string lights and wind.

Lando (soft):

“I didn’t want Bella. I wanted to feel… wanted. You make me forget I’m replaceable.”

Y/N:

“You’re not. But you made me feel like I was.”

He leans forward, voice breaking.

Lando:

“If I kissed you now, would it matter?”

Y/N:

“I don’t know anymore. All I know is — it’d feel real.”

She doesn’t kiss him.

But her fingers touch his, linger, tangle.

Y/N:

“Let’s just… feel this. For now.”

BACK AT THE VILLA: FRANCO & Y/N

Franco corners her near the hallway.

Franco:

“So, back to Lando again?”

Y/N (tired):

“Why does it matter to you?”

Franco (defensive):

“Because you deserve better than being someone’s back-and-forth.”

Y/N (sarcastic):

“Like you, right? The guy who flirts with every girl but acts like he’s above it all?”

Franco (snaps):

“At least I don’t pretend I’m confused.”

Y/N (steps closer):

“You’re not as untouchable as you think.”

They stand chest to chest. Breathing sharp. Too close. Too angry.

Franco (quiet):

“And you’re not as invincible either.”

She doesn’t move.

Neither does he.

Then she turns and walks away.

But his eyes follow her.

CHARLES & Y/N

They sit in the hammock.

No one else around.

Charles:

“Four more days.”

Y/N:

“I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

Charles:

“Then forget the end. Ask yourself: what moment would you live in, if you could freeze one?”

She thinks.

Y/N:

“The night on the rooftop. You and me. No noise. Just… truth.”

He nods.

Charles:

“For me, it’s now.”

She blinks.

Y/N (soft):

“Now?”

Charles (leans in):

“Because now I’m with you — and I don’t know what happens next.”

Their foreheads touch.

Not a kiss. Something deeper.

FRANCO AT THE PRODUCER OFFICE DOOR

Franco paces outside the locked producer room.

He holds the note again.

He knocks.

No answer.

He pulls out a second note — one he hasn’t shown anyone. Reads it again.

“If Y/N ever finds out, pull back Lando’s access to footage. If Charles becomes too obvious, adjust narrative. Oscar = fallback edit. DO NOT lose control of her emotional arc.”

Franco clenches his jaw.

Franco (to himself):

“They’re not choosing for her. Not on my watch.”

He shoves the note into his hoodie and walks away.

To Be Continue..

MORNING — UNSPOKEN WAR

Y/N walks into the kitchen.

Oscar hands her a mug of coffee without speaking.

She smiles.

Across the room, Lando watches. She doesn’t look at him. Not once.

Lando (to Revan, trying to sound casual):

“She mad at me?”

Revan (dry):

“She’s not mad. She’s disappointed. That’s worse.”

PATIO – FRANCO & Y/N

Y/N finds Franco sitting outside with his feet up, sunglasses on, scribbling in a journal.

Y/N (leaning back):

“Journaling or sketching your next insult?”

Franco (smirks):

“Plotting who I’ll ignore today.”

Y/N (serious):

“You and Revan. Your date — what happened?”

He blinks.

Franco:

“You mean besides watching her flirt with every waiter in a 5-mile radius?”

Y/N:

“She came back… furious. Said things about me. Ugly things. Like I stole something from her.”

Franco leans back, lowers his voice.

Franco:

“We talked about the game. About Lando. About you. She said you always act innocent but pull everyone in.”

Y/N (quiet):

“That’s not what I do.”

Franco (nods):

“I know. But she doesn’t. Because the guy she’s wanted all season looked at you like you were gravity.”

That lands deep.

Y/N (softly):

“I didn’t ask for it. I never wanted to take anything from her.”

Franco (sighs):

“Wanting something isn’t theft, cariño. It’s just… messy.”

LUNCH — TENSION AT THE TABLE

Everyone’s at the table.

Y/N sits beside Oscar. Lando is two seats away — but can’t stop glancing.

Oscar (quietly, just to Y/N):

“He’s staring again.”

Y/N (without looking):

“Let him.”

Oscar:

“Want to make it worse?”

She looks at him.

Y/N:

“How?”

Oscar reaches for her hand under the table. Just lightly.

She lets him.

Across the table, Lando’s jaw tightens.

Jessica (noticing):

“Well. Looks like our little love triangle is now a square. How geometrically satisfying.”

Bella (to Lando, teasing):

“You okay, baby? You’ve barely eaten.”

Lando doesn’t answer.

Revan (under her breath to Bella):

“You’re not making it better.”

TASK ANNOUNCEMENT – “WIRED TRUTH”

“Tonight’s task: Wired Truth. Each contestant is secretly wired with a heart rate monitor. You’ll each ask one contestant a personal question. If their heart rate spikes — they drink. If not — you do.”

Everyone groans.

Franco (grins):

“This is going to be hell. I’m so ready.”

TASK BEGINS — NIGHTTIME, UNDER STRING LIGHTS

Each contestant takes turns in the hot seat.

Charles (to Y/N):

“Would you have kissed me if no one else was in the picture?”

Y/N’s pulse doesn’t spike.

Everyone gasps.

Charles (smiles softly):

“Guess I’ll drink.”

Lando (to Oscar):

“If Y/N picked you in the end, would it feel like settling?”

Oscar’s pulse jumps.

Oscar (chugs):

“Nice try.”

Y/N watches that carefully.

Bella (to Y/N):

“If Lando kissed you right now — would you kiss him back?”

The silence. The tension.

Y/N’s pulse remains steady.

Y/N (cold):

“Not even in my nightmares.”

Lando looks away.

Franco (to Revan):

“Did you ever want Y/N gone from the game?”

Revan’s heart rate jumps.

Revan (choking on her drink):

“That’s not— I mean, everyone’s a threat.”

Franco (low):

“You didn’t answer.”

CONFESSIONAL – Y/N

“That task… Exposed more than anyone expected. But the worst part? It didn’t answer the questions that matter.”

POST-TASK – POOL NIGHT

Y/N walks outside alone, toes skimming the water.

Oscar follows.

Oscar:

“You okay?”

Y/N (quiet):

“I’m trying to be.”

Oscar (sits beside her):

“You didn’t flinch when Bella asked about Lando. That’s strength.”

Y/N (laughs softly):

“Or numbness. One of the two.”

He’s silent.

Then—

Oscar:

“What if I said I still think about you? That even now, when things are complicated… you still feel like home.”

Her throat tightens.

Y/N (honest):

“Then I’d say… home never felt so confusing.”

He reaches up, brushes her hair behind her ear.

Oscar (quietly):

“Still want to stay confused together?”

Before she can answer—

Lando:

“Hey.”

They both look up.

Lando stands by the edge of the pool, hands in his pockets, pretending not to notice Oscar’s hand on Y/N’s arm.

Lando:

“Can I talk to you?”

Y/N (flatly):

“I’m in a conversation.”

Lando (more intense):

“Please.”

Oscar steps back.

Y/N stands but doesn’t move closer.

Y/N (cold):

“Did Bella send you to say sorry? Or is this your guilt speaking?”

Lando:

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. I didn’t pull away fast enough, but—”

Y/N (interrupts):

“You didn’t stop it. That’s all that matters.”

She walks away, back to Oscar. Leaves Lando in silence.

FRANCO'S REVELATION

Franco sits in confessional — serious for once.

Franco:

“There’s a storm coming. Not just with the boys and Y/N. Something’s off.”

He reaches into his hoodie.

Pulls out a folded piece of paper.

Franco:

“Found this under the pool deck. Didn’t mean to look. But it’s a production note.”

He unfolds it, shows the camera.

It reads:

“Y/N storyline — escalate triangle into final conflict. Oscar/Lando/Charles. Keep her unaware. Control dynamic for final week.”

He looks into the camera.

Franco (dark):

“They’re not just playing the game. They’re playing her.”

To Be Continued...