A production assistant's voice crackles through the hidden speakers, echoing across the courtyard.

A ripple of nervous energy moves through the group. Kenzie grabs Corbin's hand, squeezing it a little too tight. He glances down at her, then back toward the entrance, expression unreadable. Melanie smooths her hair, jaw tight, while Sincere stands a few feet away, hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at her.

The group shuffles into formation around the fire pit—a circular arrangement of white couches and wicker chairs. The cameras buzz overhead, capturing every angle. The doors slide open. Four figures step out in silhouette against the bright sunlight. First is a tall blonde woman, striding forward with the practiced confidence of someone who's done this before. Then a broad-shouldered man with a country-boy grin, tipping his cap at the girls. A dark-haired woman with a bohemian dress and knowing smile follows, her eyes scanning the boys like she's already picking favorites.

And then Y/n steps forward. The last to enter. The sunlight catches briefly, a beat of stillness before the doors slide shut behind them. The islanders take them in—some curious, some guarded, a few already recalibrating their alliances. Corbin shifts his weight, studying Y/n with an unreadable expression. Kenzie's grip on his arm tightens. The fire pit crackles. The silence stretches just long enough to feel heavy.