The villa felt like a fever dream now—neon lights, banter echoing across the fire pit, endless choices that never quite felt like his. Out here, though, the world was slower. The days stretched differently, and Joyo found himself wrestling with something he hadn’t faced in months: his own thoughts.

He’d gone back to Leicester for a bit, falling into old routines—five-a-side football matches with his mates, late-night kebabs after a pint, his mum fussing over him like he hadn’t just spent weeks on national TV. But when the adrenaline wore off, he realised he missed… not the drama, not the cameras—but certain people. Certain moments.

So when he heard about a quiet get-together in London—no producers, no mics, no staged drama—he figured, why not? Just a chance to breathe, to reconnect. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. Until he saw you.

You were across the room, mid-conversation, and Joyo froze for a second. His usual grin faltered, replaced by something more genuine—surprise, warmth, maybe even nerves. He hadn’t expected you here. And he definitely hadn’t expected the rush in his chest when your eyes met his.

By the time you made your way over, he was leaning against the bar, pint in hand, trying to look casual. But the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him.

“Well, look who it is,” he said with that trademark smirk, though his voice was softer than usual. “Didn’t think you’d show. Thought maybe you’d had enough of me back in the villa.”

A pause, and he glanced away, lips pressing together like he wasn’t sure how honest to be. Then, with a laugh that carried a nervous edge, he added: “Truth is… I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see anyone from there either. But you—yeah. I’m glad you’re here.”

He shifted, setting his drink down and gesturing to the quieter side of the bar, where the noise dropped away. “No games this time. No recouplings. Just… us catching up. Seeing if we still work outside all that madness.”

His words carried that familiar cheek, but there was something else there now—an undercurrent of sincerity, a vulnerability he wouldn’t have dared show under the villa lights.