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I let Nico’s hand drop and went up to the first little villa we were passing, nestled in a clearing between palm trees like a little jungle oasis. On the door was tacked a piece of paper.
Santana and Dan, the note said. Welcome to Forest Retreat.
“This is Dan and Santana’s,” I called over my shoulder to Nico. “Let’s find ours!”
He nodded, grabbed my hand, and we ran down the little pebbled path between the trees, the camera man loping in our wake. As I pushed aside the flowers and palm fronds blocking our path, I wondered how he managed to keep the footage steady—wouldn’t it be jolting all over the place? But I didn’t have time to wonder for long, because Nico had spotted another villa, this one at the top of a little outcrop above the sea.
He was first to it, peering at the note.
“?‘Bayer and Angel,’?” he read aloud. “?‘Welcome to Ocean Bluff.’ Okay, this isn’t ours. Keep hunting, Lyla!”
I grinned and nodded. I was getting into this now, almost forgetting the camera crew behind me and the producer jogging in their wake. I followed Nico along the shore towards another villa, this one practically on the beach itself.
“?‘Conor and Zana,’?” I read out. “?‘Welcome to Paradise Cove.’?”
We were almost at the honeymoon villa now, and I stepped onto the jetty that joined it to the mainland, feeling the planks shift a little beneath my feet as the waves slapped at the wooden struts. It couldn’t, it couldn’t be ours, could it?
But as I drew closer, I could see that it wasn’t. I couldn’t quite read the note on the door, but it was of a different format to the letters pinned on the other villas, shorter, with no address at the top. Sure enough, when I stepped off the jetty and onto the veranda, I could see the pinned card didn’t have anyone’s name on it. Ever After Villa, it read. Nothing else. It must be some kind of reward villa. Maybe you got to have dinner here if you aced one of the challenges. Or perhaps it was where Baz was staying.
The producer was hovering as I retraced my steps back to the beach to break the news to Nico that no, we weren’t staying in the over-water villa, but thinking of Baz had made me wonder something else.
“Where are the crew staying?”
“On the boat,” the producer said. “Most of them anyway. When the resort is finished there’ll be a full staff accommodation block on the eastern side of the island, but unfortunately that hasn’t been built yet. There’s only a few temporary amenity huts put up by the construction company.”
“So there won’t be any crew here in the evenings?” I asked, a little doubtfully.
The producer shook her head.
“No. There’s a radio in case of emergencies, and we’ll have a couple of staff members staying in the amenity huts, just in case. But we just don’t have the facilities to house the majority of the crew. Most of the out-of-hours filming’s going to be done by remote.”
“Remote?”
The producer frowned.
“Didn’t your agent explain all this? The villas are all fitted out with cameras. Not in the bathrooms, obviously, so if you want to change or anything, you go in there—though don’t worry, we won’t be showing any nudity regardless. Like I said, Baz is aiming for a PG-13 rating, though if everyone keeps swearing, that might be wishful thinking.” She rolled her eyes. “But otherwise… assume you’re being filmed twenty-four seven.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“It was all in the contract, honey,” the producer said. She looked a little defensive.
I turned to look at Nico.
“Did you know about this? Cameras in all the rooms?”
“Lil,” Nico said. He had that voice on, the calm down, Lyla, don’t be so uptight voice that’s guaranteed to make me lose my shit. “Have you ever seen a reality TV show? This is how they work. They want unguarded moments.”
“Unguarded moments? Is that the new term for people shagging?”
The camera man took a step forward, swung the lens towards me. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to tell him to fuck off. At least if I did, they wouldn’t be able to use the footage. Unless they bleeped it, of course. And then how would it be edited? Probably me reading the note saying that the water villa wasn’t for us, then cut to me throwing a hissy fit at Nico. Did you know about this? Then, And you can fuck off as well to the camera man.
Week one: Lyla is promoted from boffin to diva bitch.
I remembered Conor’s words on the boat—every show needs a villain. With a temper tantrum like that, I’d be putting myself forward for the role fair and square. The question was, did I mind? In some ways it might work out better for Nico—when I was eliminated, he’d look a lot more sympathetic pairing up with other people if I’d been edited into a complete cow.
But Conor’s words kept coming back to me—every show needs a villain. And I didn’t watch much reality TV, but I did know one thing: the villains were hardly ever eliminated, at least not until the final showdown. They needed that grit in the oyster to make the show interesting. I had no idea how the challenges were going to work, but one thing I was absolutely certain of—they could be rigged. And if I made myself too interesting, they were never going to let me go.
I forced myself to smile sweetly.
