The competition is shifting tonight. The secrets are gone, and they do not know what AHX might put in their place, but they suspect something just as seductive and ruinous.
The day is filled with more of the pretentious chatter of previous days, but by the early evening, they’re all wound so tightly and just want to take the edge off. So they start drinking to cover for the fact that they are finding solace through other means. It’s remarkably easy, even on an island rigged with cameras, and even though AHX checked their bags before they arrived.
Araminta complains that she’s too hot and that she’s going to have a cold shower to cool down. She even puts up with the jokes about Rhys’s effect on her person.
And when she is naked, when even the camera in the bathroom is not pointed in her direction—there solely for blurry shots of shower sex and girly conversations over makeup (yet to happen, probably won’t)—she bends down to her conditioning mask, slips open the plastic pouch tucked inside, and helps herself to a pill.
Jerome is more basic, having stashed his first pouch thinly beneath the cigarettes in their case. The others had been stitched into the lining of his jackets like he’d seen on TV. He only needs to wear one to the smoking area and tear the hems.
Kalpana is brazen. They had tested the medicine they brought in, every pill of it. They’d even put them in orange pill bottles so they wouldn’t accidentally promote any brands on screen. But they hadn’t touched her breath mints at all. There’s a mix in there, all identical. But if she pops a pill into her mouth and it tastes like mint, she only waits half an hour to take another.
Isko thought himself ingenious when he had lined his cosmetics with plastic—his personal favorite an eyeliner pen that unscrews to reveal white powder. There are places on the island that even the cameras don’t reach but if he wants to be flagrant, he simply reaches for his eye drops, thoroughly laced.
Theo is more careful than all of the others. He doesn’t do the hard stuff anyway, but weed takes up so much more room than pills and powders and has more admin to it. But he got hold of a similar enough tincture, hid it in with his array of skincare, and can vape it without the smell alerting anyone. If he ever gets caught, he has medical cannabis certificates somewhere.
Rhys has no desire to use any of it. Even if he were interested in that sort of thing, he wouldn’t risk the fame this show can bring him for a high.
He’s the only one who doesn’t touch a thing.
He never has—and he never plans to.
Kalpana stows her mints in her bedside draw before she steps into the hall, hears moaning from next door and determines she has no desire to do this sober. She slips one on her tongue, relieved when there’s only recoiling dryness and no minty tang, before pocketing the rest for later and heading downstairs, where the others sit perched on the kitchen counter and haphazardly sprawled across chairs.
Joining them, she starts the arduous and particular process of making herself a drink, noting the rapidly depleting stock of limes as she begins slicing one.
“How long do you think that will last?” Theo asks, nodding at the ceiling, the tell-tale squeak of springs barely audible on the footage.
Isko picks at a hangnail. “Two minutes in my experience.”
“Really?” Kalpana asks.
“No,” he says, turning a withering glare on her. “That was obviously a joke. The sex was perfectly satisfactory.”
Jerome stares resolutely at his shoes as though terrified any engagement in the conversation might lead to more details about their sexual encounter.
“I meant the relationship,” Theo clarifies.
“Why do we care?” Isko says. “Aren’t we better than this constant gossip? I thought this show was supposed to be something different, something beyond the obsession with social dynamics and the constraints of the status quo.”
“Is that why you leaped at the chance to steal points from me?” Jerome mutters.
“Oh, get over it, Jerome; it’s a game. You can’t take it so personally.”
“Isko’s right,” Kalpana interrupts, then rushes. “About Rhys and Araminta—not about the competition; feel however you want about that. But I’m sick of us talking about this. I’m bored by myself.”
“Shocking,” Jerome coughs into his drink.
“Don’t you care at all?” Theo asks Isko. “It would be perfectly understandable if you did.”
“Any lingering desire I had for him was swiftly wiped out last night after all the theatrics with throwing the paddle into the flames,” Isko says, nose wrinkling with distaste. “He’s acting like a love interest in an eighties movie, Theo. And I certainly don’t want him turning up at my door with a stereo.”
Isko: You know, Theo is the first person here to consider how I might feel about all this. And I might not care, but it turns out I do care that none of them thought I might.
“What do you think tonight’s challenge will be?” Jerome asks, somewhat pointlessly given they have no way of knowing.
“Does it matter?” Kalpana asks. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to show the world what an untalented arsehole you are anyway.”
Isko: I disagree—Jerome’s very talented at being an arsehole.
“Kalpana, you’ve made it very clear how you feel about me so frankly, beat me in a challenge or shut the hell up,” he says, without rage, as though the words have been running through his head for days and he’s finally spitting them out.
“Is beating you in a court of law not enough?”
“You haven’t won yet. And your case is so ridiculous I doubt you ever will—especially when I get my hands on that prize money and spend it on the best lawyers money can buy.”
Kalpana drops lime wedges into her glass, and she’s still clutching the knife in a shaking hand and everything’s still blurry, but gone is the calm the Xanax promised.
“Fuck you, Jerome. You’re going down one way or another. Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll fall in all the ways you can.”
The creaking stops.
Theo glances down at his watch. “Two minutes on the dot.”
The shot cuts to Eloise on the screen, gleefully greeting the contestants. They are practically on the edge of their seats—or, in Araminta’s case, on the edge of Rhys’s lap.
“Good evening, contestants! Well, that’s our first full week complete. The competition is close, but it’s still anybody’s game!” Eloise says. “And tonight, we launch our second, weeklong challenge. It’s all very well being a standout individual, but no man is an island! To truly be exceptional you must be able to work together in a team. Which is why, this week, you’ll be paired up and each mini-challenge will be worth points for you and your partner to win.”
They stifle their discontent—not wanting to appear sneering of the very competition they volunteered for. But this goes against what this contest is supposed to stand for—being one of many, being incredible on your own merit, and being better than everyone else on the island.
Araminta squeezes Rhys’s hand, already thinking about how competing together will bring them closer and give them more opportunity for screen time.
“Our audience has also voted for your pairs!” Eloise says, and Araminta’s confidence in their pairing falters, only to be thoroughly shattered. “Isko and Araminta, you’ll be our first pair, and at the top of the leader board, you’ll be a match to contend with.”
Isko: You’re really going to put me with the girl rubbing her relationship in all of our faces?
Araminta: It won’t be the first time Isko and I have worked together, but he’s had moments of real cruelty here and…no, I’m not looking forward to it.
It’s not quite a lie and not quite the truth from either of them. They work well together, can read each other, and might have more in common than they care to admit. But there’s no warmth there and certainly no trust.
“Rhys, you’ll be with Theo.”
Rhys: Excellent.
Theo: Absolutely not.
“And Kalpana and Jerome, you’ll be competing together.”
Jerome: That’s quite some sense of humor you have, viewers.
Kalpana: Is there any chance the first task will be to murder your partner?
Having delivered so much information, Eloise now takes a moment to revel in it. Her smile is slightly too tight and makes obvious the work she’s had done to keep the same face that first appeared on-screen decades ago.
“And we’ll be kicking things off with our first challenge—because from now until this time tomorrow, you’re going to be spending an awful lot of time with your partner—a whole twenty-four hours handcuffed together to be precise.”
“Are you joking?” Kalpana hisses. Jerome is just as angry, leaping from his seat and then standing still, like he doesn’t know what to do with his outrage.
Theo: Is this punishment? Tying me to Rhys in the hope that in comparison my old bandmates don’t seem so bad?
“You can forfeit if you’d like,” Eloise says. “But I don’t think you’ll want to. Each of you will have a key, so if one of your pair decides to quit, it’s over for you both. You either need to be the last pair cuffed or still handcuffed by this time tomorrow. If you are, you’ll win five points each.”
“We’ve got this in the bag,” Araminta whispers to Isko who nods, albeit a little reluctantly.
Isko: It won’t be fun, but I don’t imagine it will be hard.
“Five points is not worth it,” Jerome snarls.
Eloise arches an eyebrow, and something lights in her eyes, like it’s a moment she’s been waiting for.
“Which brings me to my final announcement.” Eloise pauses for long enough to make eye contact with each one of them. It feels daring, like she would like to push them until they break. “Iconic has really taken the world by storm. And in return for making this competition into the phenomenon it has become, we’re doubling your prize money. Whoever has the most points in two weeks’ time will be walking away with half a million dollars.”
She doesn’t even finish speaking before the handcuffs click shut.
@LolaLois
I’ve never felt a prouder part of the public than when I saw those pairings lmao, we’re all such shit stirrers #Iconic
@RiotParadeOfficial
The allegations being leveled against us are unequivocally false. But we advocate supporting and believing victims—so would like to prove our innocence to you rather than have you take our word for it. Therefore, we’ve made the difficult decision to postpone our upcoming tour while we collaborate with investigators and allow this matter to be settled in the proper manner.
@MeeraAWrites
@RiotParadeOfficial you’re really gonna try the “they’re false” card when those underage girls literally have photos of the party in your hotel room? With the three of you in?? Theo Newman was right to cut ties with you, you’re disgusting #TeamTheo #Iconic
Yesterday, Jerome had been keen to help, to tell them anything he could. But this morning he glowers as Kennard enters, his nostrils flaring.
“So you weren’t going to tell us they’re airing the final episode tomorrow?” he snaps. “We all just had to find that out ourselves from our hotel TVs?”
“We’re the police, not AHX. Informing you of scheduling decisions is on them,” Kennard says. He tries not to look at the mirror, where Cloutier stands watching him. He can’t be in the same room without being distracted, but without him he has no counterbalance, no one to even out his harsh edges.
“That’s not fair—it’s disgraceful, actually. Rhys deserves better than his death to become a finale.”
“I agree, and if we can prove a crime occurred, then that won’t happen. So I’d like to bring us onto why you spent an exorbitant amount of time in the smoking area the day he died.”
“I was smoking.”
“For so long? And you actually spent a while in there most days, twice as long as the others. What would make you cling to a space without cameras like that? Our forensics teams are scouring it, so perhaps the more appropriate question is what were you doing?”
Jerome pales. “It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t the cameras; it was them. When you’re there, you can’t escape them. There was always someone wherever you wanted to go. We all kind of respected each other’s privacy in the smoking area—sometimes you’d go and someone would be there, so you’d head back later.”
“So you were avoiding your fellow contestants? Why?”
“Why?” he scoffs. “Have you not seen everything that happened those last few days? Jesus, what are you doing here talking to me—go watch the footage.”
“Would you really like us to do that when we know you messed with the cameras?”
“I didn’t do a thing to the cameras.”
“Then what did you do when you hacked into AHX?”
Jerome glares and says nothing.
“You know, Mr. Frances,” Kennard says, leaning forward. “I can’t help but feel you want that episode aired.”
Jerome locks eyes with Kennard, lip curling up in a sneer. “Maybe it wouldn’t be fair on Rhys, but maybe I trust the public to get justice more than I trust the detectives wasting time talking to me when they should be interviewing whoever murdered him.”
Another knock at the door, Maes summoning them out again.
“The lawyer’s finally here,” she says. “You can talk to Araminta.”