Episode 32 Paya
Steph Rhodes is giving us that coy grin again and The Summit has only just started.
Everyone, especially Celeste, feels a million miles away.
I rub my sweaty palms against my thighs.
They all know about the production plant now and I can hardly stand to sit here and wait for my demise.
I went from having allies to being public enemy number one in a matter of hours, and everyone on these benches is ready to write my name down.
“Before we get started and discuss the game so far.” Steph’s voice breaks through the silence as she gestures toward the side entrance. “Let’s bring out the first two members of our jury. Bo and Jeida.”
From the benches I watch as the two women enter and sit off to the side. Relaxed and rested, Jeida’s wearing a burgundy thigh slit dress the same color as her lip stick. Her hair is in two puffs. I blink twice. Bo looks almost unrecognizable in a neatly pressed button down, jeans and loafers.
Steph clears her throat, drawing our eyes back to the center floor. “Since there was a twist for the merger, we are doing something different for the jury.” She shifts her attention toward the previous direction and shouts, “Blair. Raina. Come on in!”
Oh my god. On top of everything else, now this?
Steph motions toward the two freshly showered, well-dressed women.
Blair’s smile seems more sinister than I remember.
She pushes her lush hair to one side, wearing a deep plum dress, knee high boots, natural lipstick, and heels.
I know Saffron’s heart is in her throat, given Raina’s vengeful smirk pointed in her direction, wearing a tight military uniform, her gorgeous pitch black hair flowing down her shoulders.
“Blair. Raina.” Steph urges them to join Jeida and Bo on the benches. “Your climbs ended right before the merge. Tonight, you have a voice again. Welcome to the jury.”
“What in the actual hell, Steph?” Saffron blurts out.
Steph catches Raina’s death glares at Saffron. “Looks like The Final Summit will be eventful.”
“I don’t have enough eyes to roll.” I hear Saffron mutters, arms crossed over her chest.
I haven’t seen her this jittery since the day we set Raina up. She’s been distracted since; squirming in her seat, stealing glances at Raina. And we haven’t even voted yet.
Steph rests her hands on her Summit stick, letting the heavy silence simmer for a beat, then turns to Saffron. “Saffron, with new jury members, both blindsides, the game has just fundamentally shifted behind you. How does that reality affect your mindset going into tonight’s vote?”
Saffron grips the edge of the wooden bench, her knuckles turning white as her panicked gaze swerves away from the jury and drops right onto me.
“It means the stakes are too high for secrets, Steph,” she says, her voice trembling as she frantically tries to deflect the target off her own back.
“We’re supposed to be playing a fair game, but some people out here are getting an entirely different experience.
” She stands up, her finger flying up to point directly at my face.
A curious smile plasters across Steph’s face. “Why do you say that?”
“Steph, is Paya a production plant?” Saffron demands. “We really don’t need anymore surprises.”
I peep the jury’s bewilderment, then focus back on the host.
Steph doesn’t flinch. She calmly leans forward in her seat. “You tell me. You’ve played side by side with Paya for almost forty days. Does she play like a plant?”
“Omission. I take it that’s a yes.”
Steph doesn’t blink. “All I’m saying is to review the evidence you have of your game together so far. What you’re insinuating right now is that since day one Paya had additional clues to relics, tips on how to win challenges, and strategy to manipulate everyone.”
I shrink to the size of that island bug that crawled on my leg on Exile Isle, silent as they continue talking about me as if I’m not sitting right here.
Steph points her Summit stick in my direction. “Saffron, based on what you just said, do you believe Paya has played the game like someone who has inside data?”
Saffron struggles to respond. “No, but—” She pauses. “Someone saw her speaking with production in private. She could’ve been reviewing footage or getting extra food.”
Steph lifts a finger. “Did you not eat cake at the camp wedding?”
Maybe Steph Rhodes was a defense attorney in her past life because the level of gaslighting has me questioning whether I actually am a plant.
At that Saffron crosses her arms over her chest and shifts her attention to the jury. “I wouldn’t take any chances on her.” She sits down.
“Lex.” Steph moves on to the next person. “The face you’re making is telling. What are your thoughts going into tonight’s vote?”
Lex rubs a hand down her jaw. “This is The Final Summit. The stress of the unknown is trauma-inducing, Steph. One minute I’m thinking I’m going home, then next thing I know, alliances are crumbling.”
Steph cackles. “Beya, you just made a face. What’s that about?”
“I was just thinking that this Summit feels like my kitchen during morning feeding time. Noisy, chaotic and full of cats meowing like they haven’t been fed for months.
Running a cat cafe, I’ve learned that the loudest cats are usually the ones making a mess because they’re afraid to get left behind.
The ones you really have to watch out for are the quiet ones who slip right under your feet, grab what they want, and leave everyone else scratching at the clean tuna can. ”
Somehow, that makes zero sense, and all the sense at the same time.
“Arlie, you’re more talkative than usual.” The joke lands, but my mood only lifts for a millisecond. “What do you make of these accusations? And how does that impact your vote tonight?”
“I’m voting for Paya. Collateral damage happens.” Arlie shifts her focus to my partner. “No offense, Celeste.”
Celeste shrugs. “None taken.”
Steph’s attention shifts to Celeste with a well-played smile. “Celeste. You’re probably thinking, who the bleep did I marry?”
“Be glad you don’t have children together. Divorce court would be a nightmare.” Lex huffs a laugh.
Celeste straightens in her seat. “I know my partnership is on the front page of the tabloids.” She keeps her gaze locked on Steph, her arms crossed.
“Ultimately, I’ve learned to not make decisions based on camp gossip.
I make them based on my gut. That’s what got me this far.
Sounds like that won’t be enough tonight. ”
“Let’s put your intuition to the test, soon then.” Steph smiles. “Does anyone want to play anything that might change their odds?”
Silence.
I peer toward Celeste hoping for a sign of who to vote for.
A hail mary pass. Not that voting for Beya matters anymore.
Our plan exploded the moment Claudia leaked my role somehow.
Out of habit, I glance at Saffron, then Arlie, and then Beya.
No subtle nods of agreement today. Not when the vote is me.
When it’s my turn at the voting table, I stare at the blank parchment, rubbing my forehead.
Claudia did this to me. In hindsight, she probably wanted me gone the instant I questioned her soft exit on the boat.
Now she gets her way. She won. She ruined not only my game, but Celeste’s too.
The woman I love doesn’t deserve to get eliminated because of me.
I might as well vote for myself tonight.
Whose name do I write down if not my own?
I blink, struggling to calm my mind as I think for a moment, the pressure mounting of standing here for what feels like hours, instead of three minutes.
Being a production plant doesn’t change the fact that I’m a human with real feelings too.
That Saffron was my alliance from the beginning.
A friend. Why didn’t she pull me aside instead of attacking me in front of the entire camp, then humiliate me a second time at The Summit?
Not that I would’ve known what to say if she had asked privately, but still.
This is why I can’t have friends. They always treat me like shit in the end.
Unsure of what else to do, I scribble down Saffron’s name, drawing a frowning face next to it.
My heart breaks when I drop my vote into the chest. Defeated, I exhale, then return to my seat.
Taking a shot in the dark, I glance toward Celeste.
The coldness in her dark eyes is almost unrecognizable compared to their loving warmth this morning when I woke up in her arms. I hate what this game has done to us.
Was coming on a reality TV show for some shallow redemption worth the heartache?
She hasn’t looked at me once since we entered The Summit.
Our agreement doesn’t matter. How can I go back to working for her after everything we’ve done out here on this island?
Once everyone’s finished voting and seated, Steph rises. “Time to count the votes.” She stabs the ground with her Summit staff and disappears. Later she returns from the voting area and opens the lid of the gold chest with my fate inside. “Does anyone have anything to add before I read the votes?”
Seconds of silence feel like hours. I clamp my eyes shut, waiting for my demise. So much for a soft exit. I’m sure Claudia is loving this shit show.
There’s shuffling at the opposite end. Celeste rises to her feet. “I do. I’d like to play my Sappho’s Super Secret Relic.”
I gasp. My eyes snap open. What the—
“Holy shit, Celeste.” Someone from the jury says a little too loudly.
My mind races. When did she get a relic? What the hell is Sappho’s Super Secret? Why didn’t Celeste tell me?
Chatter scurries in the night sky. The jury members are falling all over one another in disbelief at the sheer chaos this game brings.
Hands are covering mouths. People are gripping their hair.
Maniac laughter sounds from the jury. I’m holding my breath as Steph unravels the crinkled up scroll paper that Celeste handed her.
Steph inspects the relic close to her face, flipping it over three times, then holds it up to the light as we all hold our breath, waiting for the verdict.
“This is no ordinary immunity relic. This is the real Sappho’s Super Secret Relic.
There’s only one in the history of the entire show and Celeste has just played it. ”
Steph reads the relic details out loud and tells us it can be played right before the votes are read and nullifies votes against herself and another player of choice. I’m in such shock, I think I’m going to pass out.
“Celeste.” Steph’s voice cuts through the stunned silence. “Who are you saving tonight?”
My heart hammers against my chest. She’s had a relic this entire time?
Celeste doesn’t make eye contact with anyone but Steph. She doesn’t even look at me. “I’m nullifying every vote against Paya.” She stands calm and composed, despite the commotion all around us.
Steph nods. “All votes against Paya no longer count. That leaves two votes remaining.”
It feels like the entire island stills at hearing the name written on the paper Steph is displaying.
“The fifth person voted out of The Final Summit is Saffron. Lex, you being Saffron’s partner means you must leave as well, being the tenth person eliminated on The Final Summit.
Please bring me your fire one at a time. ”
My stomach drops.
Saffron’s “wow” is silent. Her hands form tight fists. She’s yelling through gritted teeth before anyone says anything. “I can’t fucking believe this. What the hell was that?” she demands.
“Seriously?” Lex glances over in disbelief. “I thought we were friends, Celeste.”
I grab Saffron’s hand, but she yanks it away. “Saffron, I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t—”
Saffron faces Celeste. “You should’ve taken the L. You’re just as bad as your traitorous, production plant girlfriend. She doesn’t deserve to win and you’d be stupid to think she would do the same thing for you.”
Everyone on the jury’s mouths drops. They all look at each other in utter shock.
Celeste only sits there and doesn’t say a word.
Lex’s expression is unreadable as her torch gets flung over The Summit first. She offers a limp wave goodbye, then vanishes.
My heart aches when Saffron rises from her seat beside me.
I want to wrap my arms around her in a tight hug, but based on the flushed skin on her neck and how her usual vibrant emerald eyes are now slits, that’s probably not a wise idea.
“Saffron.” Steph’s voice cuts through the crashing waves below the cliff. Saffron stands in front of her. “Your team has chosen. Your climb ends here.”
Saffron slowly scans each of us, this time with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Someone please take care of Cluck,” she chokes out.
“I will,” Beya says, voice small, eyes full of sadness. “Love you Saffron.”
I’m still too stunned in my seat to speak, my chest heaving, staring at the empty space where my closest ally in this game used to be.
On the opposite end, Celeste sits with her spine perfectly straight, not a single hair out of place after executing one of the most iconic blindsides possibly in the history of The Final Summit.
I’d be a fool to think she did that for me.
I can’t believe the events that just transpired.
I’m not going home tonight? Although relieved I get to stay another day, my heart’s broken in a million pieces for Saffron.
My friend and alliance from day one—until my secret got out, anyway.
I don’t even want to think about how miserable the tension back at camp will be.
Saffron stands at the edge of the platform, the heavy shape of her unplayed immunity relic, now a useless paper weight in her pocket. She doesn’t make a scene. Only stares at Celeste with a look of furious, bewildered respect, then turns to make her exit down the wooden bridge.
But before she disappears down the jungle path, Saffron’s gaze flickers over to the jury. I track her line of sight.
A smug grin on her lips, Raina’s slowly tapping her thigh. Her message is clear. Come sit down. I’ve been waiting. Based on Saffron’s squinting glare response, Raina’s air kisses weren’t appreciated one bit.
Steph looks back at the remaining four players.
“Just when you start to think you have this game figured out, rumors fly, a historic relic gets played, and old flames from the past visit.” She flashes a smile and gestures out toward the dark jungle path with her stick.
“All that remains is the final four. Paya and Celeste, Beya and Arlie. Grab your torches. The trail back to camp is waiting.”