Episode 29 Paya
The stay at Sapphire Isle flew by and now we’re back.
I walk down the secluded path away from camp, arriving at the usual interview spot hidden behind a wall of dense palms. No one on my team can see me out here.
It’s a private pocket of space, set up with just a couple of production crates and the main camera rig.
Ollie offers a warm, reassuring smile as I approach, adjusting the camera lens. They look up, their expression softening, though there’s a slight tightness around their eyes today.
“Misty is finishing up an equipment check,” Ollie says, keeping their tone friendly and low. “She left her notes on the back crate for you.”
“Thanks, Ollie.” I step past the camera, turning toward the crate to grab the sheet. “Hey, Misty, about that pineapple upside-down cake from earlier—”
“Misty isn’t here.”
I recognize the irritating voice immediately, freezing me mid-sentence. I turn around. Claudia sits on the boulder. Her pristine boots are scuffed at the toe, the only sign the island has touched her at all. She doesn’t look up at me. She’s examining her wrist instead.
“My stupid bracelet broke,” Claudia mutters. “I’ll have Misty order me another one for next season. Another ‘A’ for amateurs.”
“Where’s Misty?”
Claudia finally raises her head. Her eyes drag across my dirt-stained clothes. “Misty is doing her job. Right now, I’m doing mine.” She rests her hands on her knees. “We had an agreement, Paya. Misty delivered the terms. You are supposed to take a soft exit.”
I look her dead in the eye. “Well, we’re at the top six, and I’m still here.”
“You’re a producer’s plant. My plant. You do what you’re told.” Her voice goes flat. “You are here to generate ratings, not to rewrite my script. You’ve outlived your usefulness to this production.”
Ollie keeps their eyes fixed on the camera monitor. They don’t move. They don’t speak. This isn’t a standard interview. It’s an ambush.
“I’m playing the game by the rules,” I say, keeping my voice level. “If the viewers like me, that’s on them. I’m not quitting.”
Claudia lets out a short, humorless laugh. “You think you’re untouchable because the cameras are rolling? This industry is small, Paya. Very small. Opportunities disappear overnight for people who don’t know how to take direction.”
She stands, closing the distance between us. She’s threatening the only thing I came here for. My career. The future I’m trying to rebuild.
“I read your contract,” I retort, holding my ground. “I haven’t breached a single clause. You can’t legally force me off the show.”
Claudia stills. Her eyes narrow. She doesn’t argue the legalities. She doesn’t have to.
“You’re going to regret coming onto my show,” she says quietly. “You’ll never step foot on a stage again.”