Chapter 5: Announcements: Cabin 4 of 6
The mildew smell in Emerald Cabin clung like wet laundry. Briv sat rigid on the bunk edge, Alya pressed against his side, her fingers digging into his thigh. Revan’s low chuckle echoed from his bunk, a sound like stones grinding together. Dariana methodically folded clothes, her face unreadable.
Downstairs, Chris McLean’s amplified voice sliced through the tense quiet again, bouncing off the glass walls of the main house. "Alright, lovebirds and lone wolves! Settle those fluttering hearts. Time for… Ruby Cabin! Step into the fire… metaphorically speaking, unless someone smuggled in matches!" His laugh crackled over the speakers. "First… Thomas!"
A figure near the bar unfolded. Thomas was tall, skinny, with messy dark hair falling into dark eyes. He moved with an unnerving fluidity, hips swaying slightly as he stepped forward. He offered Chris a dazzling, almost shy smile, clasping his hands together. "Oh, Chris," he breathed, his voice soft, melodic. "Such drama! I adore it." He fluttered his fingers towards the remaining contestants.
Briv, watching from the upper deck railing where he’d drifted for air, felt a prickle of unease. Thomas’s eyes swept the room, lingering on the women clustered near Diletta with an intensity that felt… practiced. Like a hunter scanning prey.
"Joaquin!" Chris announced next.
A broad-shouldered man shoved past Kofi near the drinks table. Joaquin. Dark green eyes flashed under thick brows, a short-trimmed beard framing a confident smirk. He wore a tight black tee showcasing muscular arms. "¡Finalmente!" he boomed, clapping Thomas hard on the back, making the slimmer man stumble slightly. Joaquin didn't seem to notice, scanning the women with undisguised appreciation. "Ruby, eh? Hot like the ladies, sí?" He winked broadly at no one in particular, his gaze lingering on Fatima’s curves.
"Carmen!" Chris called.
Carmen unfolded herself from a sofa near Nicola. Tall, incredibly tall, pale skin stark against her long brown hair. She moved with a deliberate grace, trying to mask the nervous energy radiating from her. A bright, slightly forced smile lit her face. "Ruby! Sounds… intense!" Her voice was loud, cheerful, echoing slightly. She glanced quickly at Nicola, seeking reassurance.
"And rounding out our fiery quartet… Nicola!" Chris finished with a flourish.
Nicola stepped forward smoothly. Blonde hair catching the light, brown eyes sharp and observant. She offered Chris a polite nod, her expression calm, almost detached. Her fitted dress accentuated her narrow waist and the firm curve of her small breasts and round ass. She moved to stand beside Carmen, a silent pillar of composure next to her friend’s vibrating energy.
"Ruby Cabin!" Chris spread his arms wide. "Your crimson retreat awaits down the south path. Look for the… slightly redder door? Honestly, paint fumes are getting to me. Go! Ignite some sparks!" He waved them towards the deck doors facing the dense jungle canopy.
Joaquin didn't hesitate. He strode forward, throwing an arm around Thomas’s shoulders. "Vámonos, amigos! Time to see our new palace!" Thomas flinched almost imperceptibly but covered it with another dazzling smile, patting Joaquin’s muscular forearm.
Carmen linked her arm through Nicola’s. "Okay, Rubies! Let’s do this!" Her voice was bright, but Nicola felt the tremor in her friend’s arm. Nicola squeezed back gently, her sharp eyes already assessing the two men leading the way.
The south path plunged deeper into the jungle than Emerald’s. Vines hung thick, brushing their shoulders, the air thick and humid, smelling of damp earth and rotting fruit. Sunlight filtered weakly through the dense canopy. Joaquin led the charge, hacking impatiently at low branches with a large hand. Thomas walked just behind him, his movements fluid, almost gliding, occasionally glancing back at the women with a soft, encouraging smile.
"Quite the adventure, isn't it?" Thomas murmured, his voice carrying easily over the jungle sounds. "Feels like we're explorers."
"Explorers looking for a bed, hermano," Joaquin laughed, shoving aside a large fern. "And maybe a drink. McLean better have stocked the mini-bar." He glanced back, his gaze deliberately raking over Nicola’s figure. "You ladies thirsty?"
Carmen giggled nervously. "Always! This humidity!" She fanned herself dramatically.
Nicola remained silent, her gaze fixed ahead. She noted the faded ruby-colored conch shell nailed crookedly to a weathered wooden door nestled amongst giant ferns. Ruby Cabin. Identical layout, same cheap furniture, same faint scent of decay beneath the pine cleaner. Joaquin shoved the door open.
Inside was a carbon copy of Emerald – cramped bunk room, flimsy table, single bathroom door. The air felt heavier, damper. Joaquin immediately claimed the lower bunk nearest the door, throwing his bag down with a thud. "King position," he declared, sprawling onto the thin mattress. He patted the space beside him, grinning at Nicola. "Plenty of room, princesa."
Nicola ignored him, placing her bag neatly at the foot of the other lower bunk. "This one’s fine," she stated calmly.
Thomas moved with surprising speed, sliding onto the top bunk above Nicola’s chosen spot before Carmen could react. "Oh, I adore heights!" he chirped, swinging his legs. "Feels… commanding." He smiled down at Carmen. "You don’t mind the bottom, darling? Easier access?" His tone was solicitous, but the phrasing felt deliberate.
Carmen blinked, momentarily flustered. "Uh, sure! Bottom’s great! Stable!" She laughed too loudly, dropping her bag onto the remaining lower bunk opposite Joaquin’s. She avoided looking directly at him.
Thomas leaned over the edge of his bunk, his dark eyes fixed on Carmen. "You seemed a little tense on the walk, sweetheart. Everything alright? This whole thing… it’s overwhelming, isn’t it?" His voice was soft, dripping with concern. "You can talk to me. I’m a good listener."
Carmen looked up, surprised, then touched. "Oh, Thomas, that’s… really sweet. Yeah, it’s a lot. Just… trying to keep it together, you know?" She offered a shaky smile.
Joaquin snorted, sitting up. "Keep it together? Relax, chica! It’s paradise! Sun, sand, beautiful people…" His gaze slid pointedly to Nicola, who was meticulously unpacking a toiletry bag. "What’s not to love?" He stretched, muscles flexing. "So, Rubies. Why are we here? Besides the obvious." He smirked, echoing Dariana’s earlier words but twisting them into something crude. "Me? I’m here to experience… everything." His eyes locked onto Nicola again. "All the flavors."
Thomas shot Joaquin a look that was momentarily sharp before melting back into gentle concern. He focused intently on Carmen. "For me, it’s about connection. Real connection. Cutting through the noise of the world, you know? Finding someone who sees you." He placed a hand over his heart dramatically. "Authenticity."
Carmen nodded vigorously, her eyes wide. "Yes! Exactly! That’s so beautiful, Thomas. Connection. Realness." She sighed, leaning against her bunk post. "I just want to find someone who… gets me. Who loves me for me." Her voice softened, revealing the vulnerability beneath the prom queen act.
Nicola zipped her bag shut with a sharp sound. She turned, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Her gaze was cool, analytical, sweeping over Thomas’s performative sincerity, Joaquin’s predatory leer, Carmen’s hopeful naivete. "I’m here for the challenge," she stated simply. Her voice was calm, cutting through Thomas’s syrup. "To see how people behave when the rules are off. When temptation isn’t just a word on a banner." Her brown eyes met Thomas’s, holding them for a beat longer than comfortable. "It’s fascinating. What masks slip first."
Thomas’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He recovered quickly, tilting his head. "Masks? Oh, Nicola, darling, that sounds so cynical! We’re all just being ourselves, aren’t we?" He gestured expansively, including Joaquin’s blatant ogling.
Joaquin laughed, a harsh bark. "Damn right! What you see is what you get with me, rubia." He pushed himself off the bunk, standing close to Nicola, invading her space. He smelled of cheap cologne and sweat. "No masks. Just… appetite." He reached out, almost touching a strand of her blonde hair before she subtly shifted away. "You’ll see."
Carmen watched, her earlier relief at Thomas’s kindness fading into fresh anxiety. She glanced at Nicola, seeking solidarity, but Nicola’s expression was unreadable, her sharp eyes cataloging every micro-expression, every shift in power. Outside, the jungle hummed, thick and alive. Inside Ruby Cabin, the air crackled with unspoken agendas – Thomas’s calculated empathy, Joaquin’s aggressive desire, Carmen’s desperate hope, and Nicola’s cold, watchful intelligence. The pressure cooker lid had just been clamped shut.