Chapter 4 #2
“The other teams will be arriving within the next few hours,” Penny continues.
“As for now, Benji, our drone manager and tech specialist, will run-through all you need to know about the individual lapel mics and cameras you’ll each be wearing throughout the show.
And then, tonight, you’ll do your opening interviews with Niall Bose. ”
Missy lets out a little squeak beside me, then covers her mouth.
Penny chuckles at her response. “Yes, Niall Bose tends to get that reaction from a lot of contestants. You must be a big fan.”
Missy nods, still looking a little dumbfounded by simply hearing the name Niall Bose. I know Missy has been a long-time fan of the show, but I haven’t seen her this excited since she thrifted a sparkly ’80s prom dress right before Homecoming our sophomore year.
“So is the game set on this island?” I ask.
“No, it will be on our sister island.” Penny points to a lush green island separated from us by a ribbon of glittering ocean. “We’ll take you there by boat tomorrow morning so you can get a feel for your new island home before the cameras start rolling in the afternoon.”
Penny takes a moment to open the heavy-looking door to the hangar, and I join in, pulling it wide so both Penny and Missy can step through.
As I enter behind them, I’m met with the humming noise of the extra-large fans set up around the circumference of the interior.
The inside is lit with bright fluorescent lights hanging from the metal building’s arched ceiling.
Foldable tables are set up in segmented sections across the expansive space.
Some of the tables are topped with camera equipment, others with little ID badges, and some with rows and rows of bagged chips, veggie trays, and sumptuous sandwiches that make my mouth water. My stomach grumbles at the sight.
“Sounds like the pretzels on the plane didn’t quite tide you over,” Penny says. “We’ll get you some food soon, but first, paperwork.”
For the next several minutes, Missy and I sign paper after paper of legal forms and liability waivers in which we practically sign away our safety, health, and sanity.
Despite how much I need to be on this show, I hesitate before signing my name next to each X at the bottom of the legally binding documents.
Being on a show with sabotage in its name doesn’t exactly bode well for the safety of its players, especially when one of the only rules contestants are bound to is that we can’t “intentionally” hurt another player—everything else is practically fair game.
Not to mention the hunger, fatigue, accidental injuries, and manipulation that happen as a natural product of being on Sabotage Island.
Though the show is required to have a medical team on standby and provide a scant amount of basic necessities, that’s about our only safety net. Other than that, the show is very hands-off.
I hold my breath and pass Penny my signed papers. This is going to be one wild ride.
After Penny files our documents into a binder, she leads us to a table in the corner of the hangar. “Let me introduce you to Benji.”
A man with chestnut hair and a mustard-stained polo swivels to face us from where he sits behind a table of camera equipment. He drops a half-eaten cheese-and-turkey sandwich onto a paper plate and dusts crumbs off his hands while standing. “Hey, I’m Benji. Welcome to the Big Brother station.”
I smile.
Penny rolls her eyes at the George Orwell’s 1984 comment. “Benji thinks he’s funny. But despite his dark dystopian humor, he’s good at what he does. So, with that, I’ll leave you two in his hands.”
“Thanks, Pen,” Benji says, oblivious to the way Penny blushes.
“Okay, well, when you two are done, just head on over to the lounge area until Shannon comes and gets you.” Penny points to a section of the hangar just behind the food table decorated with vibrant rugs and several soft-looking couches that are just being vacated by two people.
“Oh, it looks like Legend and Silver will be joining your mic-and-camera tutorial.”
Penny leaves us as the two other contestants in the room stride over to Benji’s table.
If I had to guess, I’d say the tall, thin young woman with plump lined lips and hair that looks like a second-place Olympic medal is Silver, which makes the tall lean-muscled man walking beside her with bleached-tipped hair Legend.
They both look to be in their mid-twenties, like Missy and me, and glancing between the two of them with their high cheekbones, widow’s peaks, and perfectly symmetrical faces, there is no doubt that they share a familial relation.
And whatever family they are part of must come from someplace cold and unfeeling, if their stony stares have anything to say about it.
Missy leans over to me and whispers, “I don’t mean for this to come out the wrong way, but if those two said they were part of the Mafia and pulled out silencers right now, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
I huff out a laugh. My thoughts exactly. Whoever gave those two fuchsia as their team color had obviously never met them.
“I see the competition has arrived,” the silver-haired girl says, staring Missy down.
“Oh, it looks like the humidity has too.” The girl reaches out and gives Missy’s hair a pat as if she’s smoothing down some wild frizz.
Missy blushes, and I have a sudden urge to step between Missy and this overly made-up newcomer.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, no one’s hair looks good on this show.
” The girl’s mouth widens into a Cheshire grin.
“I’m Legend, and this is my sister, Silver,” Legend says as he slings an arm around Silver’s shoulder, only for her to shrug it off. “I’m sure you already know our names from our socials … or maybe you’ve even worn our brand.”
Silver scoffs as she sizes Missy up. “Or maybe not.”
“Regardless,” Legend says, “I always like to introduce us just in case. As fashion influencers, we’re often so knee-deep in our designs and posts that sometimes we don’t recognize who’s been living under a rock.”
Wow. What a humble guy.
“Well, I’m Benji, and it’s time for your mic-and-camera tutorial,” Benji says from behind the tech table. “I just thought I’d tell you that in case you’ve been living under a rock.”
I stifle a laugh. I knew I liked Benji. For the next fifteen minutes, Benji gives me, Missy, Legend, and Silver the rundown on how our lapel mics and cameras will work for the entirety of the show.
Each season of Sunsets and Sabotage is broadcast live.
From the opening interview until we leave Sabotage Island, all contestants will be filmed and mic’d twenty-four seven.
This footage will be aired online, in real time, so that viewers can hop on anytime they want to see what their favorite team is up to.
But to make the day’s worth of live footage more digestible for the general audience, the show also takes the best clips from the live feed and curates them into episodes.
Typically, there are six episodes per season—one episode for opening interviews, four episodes for Sunsets and Sabotage Black Box Meetings, and one episode for highlights of the final challenge and the winners’ interview.
All of these episodes are aired throughout the eighteen days of the season, keeping the nation up to date on what’s happening on the island.
Benji hands each of us a lapel camera to practice with and tells us where to put it on our shirts to get the best live footage, as well as how to turn the mic and camera off before bathroom visits, to which we all pay close attention.
I look at the black lapel camera that I’ve just clipped onto my shirt.
It’s tiny, yet the weight of it already tugs me down.
This one small piece of equipment represents the millions of eyes that will be following me.
A million eyes that will be judging and scrutinizing my every move.
And it’s those viewers and their impressions that will make or break this game for me.
If the viewers like what they see, then your team is one step closer to winning.
And if they don’t, well, then your team might have seen its last sunset.
Because in the end, it’s America’s votes that will rank each team before every Black Box Meeting and during the final challenge, which could potentially lead to a team’s elimination.
Benji’s voice breaks through my thoughts as he explains what we should expect on the island as far as filming is concerned, telling us how each team will be closely followed by either a cameraman and boom-mic operator or a camera-and-mic drone, depending on our whereabouts and accessibility.
I’m just straightening the camera on my shirt when a woman’s voice bursts through the room, drawing the attention of everyone around our table.
“There they are.” Shannon Pierce, whom I remember from my video call with Missy, walks toward our small group with purpose, her arms open and a catered smile plastered on her face. “There’s my dream team.”
My brows rise. I’m almost positive the team she’s referring to is Legend and Silver, but when she reaches the group, her hands come up to clasp my shoulder and Missy’s.
Oh, she’s referring to us. Dream Team? Huh. Not the words I would have chosen.
Missy smiles cordially, but the slight lift of her brow tells me she’s just as curious as I am.
“Shannon, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” Missy says.
Capitalizing on the moment, Silver inserts herself, stepping into Shannon’s view. She sticks her hand out for the showrunner to shake. “Shannon, we’ve been looking forwa—”
Shannon’s cold eyes and sharp nod sever the words from Silver’s mouth, leaving Silver’s jaw open and hand empty.
Looking confused, Silver steps to the side, and Shannon flicks her gaze back to me and Missy. Her eyes reignite with a forced brightness. “And it’s wonderful to meet you in person, too, Missy.”
In my peripheral, I catch a glimpse of Silver and Legend, who look about as docile as two sharks in a feeding frenzy.
Apparently, they’re not so happy to see Shannon’s attention focused on us.
And as nice as it is to see the pompous influencers knocked down a peg, my muscles tighten, uneasy with the vastly different responses our two teams receive from Shannon.
Shannon steps back, waving a finger between me and Missy. “I just have to let you guys know that you two were our number one choices for casting. We’re just thrilled to have you on the show. I have no doubt your team will be a great success.”
With that, Shannon claps her hands, finally turning to acknowledge Team Fuchsia, who are as bright in the face as their team name. “Now, time to get you all familiar with the makeup-and-hair hangar before tonight’s opening interviews. Follow me.”
Shannon turns and starts walking to a door at the opposite side of the hangar, leaving us all scrambling to unhook the tech from our shirts and follow after her.
Legend and Silver quickly wrench off their cameras and hurry after Shannon, but I don’t miss the way they look back at us like they’re two mountain lions who’ve decided we’re their next meal.
Missy carefully unclips her lapel camera and hands it to a grateful Benji who places it in a foam insert. “Is it just me, or did Shannon just put a target on our backs?” Missy asks him.
Benji shoots us an apologetic look. “Welcome to Season Twenty-Three.”