The sun was high when you reached the shoreline, the air warm and thick with salt. The boat had barely been tied down when Cassandra clapped her hands like a tour guide.

“Swimming first, filming later! Come on, we deserve it,” she said, already peeling off her dress to reveal a designer bikini.

It didn’t take much convincing—Caleb was shirtless before she even finished her sentence, and Lea followed, laughing as she ran toward the water. River was already filming from the side, camera strapped to his chest, muttering something about “authentic shots.”

You stood back, just slipping off your sandals, until Matthew came up behind you and hooked a finger in your top strap.

“You’re not going in like that, are you?” he smirked, eyes sliding over your figure.

You glared. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re hot,” he replied, before tugging your shirt up and off without warning. You yelped, slapping his chest, but he was already laughing and jogging toward the water.

“Matthew!” you shouted, chasing after him. He was fast—but not faster than your irritation. You tackled him waist-deep, and he pulled you down with him.

The two of you resurfaced, laughing—just a little too close, his hands skimming your sides under the water. You meant to pull away. You didn’t.

“You know,” he said, brushing wet strands from your face, “I like you better when you’re not pretending to hate me.”

“I’m not pretending,” you said, but your voice was softer than you wanted it to be.

The swim ended with everyone soaked, laughing, and dragging themselves toward the forest path. The sun dipped lower as the group followed an old, hunched man up the narrow trail—one of the last workers Cassandra’s family still kept on the island.

“It’s a bit of a walk,” he warned, holding a lantern. “House sits deeper in. No one’s lived there in years.”

“Great,” Dantes muttered. “Perfect place to die.”

“Stop,” River said, but his tone wasn’t amused “Did you hear that?”

Everyone paused. It was just leaves rustling. Probably. Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Guys, please. I’ve been here before. The house is creepy, yeah, but it’s not haunted.”

River and Dantes stayed close to each other, whispering theories about old ghosts and family curses. You walked just ahead, when Matthew fell into step beside you, brushing shoulders with you intentionally.

“Scared yet?” he asked teasingly.

“No.”

“You will be,” he said, smirking again.

When you tripped slightly on a root, he caught your hand quickly—and didn’t let go. You glanced down, then up at him.

He was still smirking. “Told you. I got you.”

That night, the group gathered in the grand living room of the old house—lit only by battery lanterns and candles. The walls were peeling, the mirrors dusty, the furniture covered in white sheets like ghosts resting.

Dantes plopped down on a creaky couch and grabbed a wine bottle. “Alright, group activity time. Truth or Dare?”

Kiko shook his head. “We’re here to film, not play games.”

“This’ll get us in the mood,” Dantes said “Besides—crayon rules. Remember that viral thing?”

He pulled a pouch from his bag and spilled out eight broken crayons, each with a different color.

“Here’s how it works,” he said, shuffling them. “Everyone draws a crayon. Each one means something different: Truth, Dare, Secret, Kiss, Confess, Skip, Punish, or Kill.”

“‘Kill?’” River blinked. “Why is that even in there?”

“It’s symbolic,” Dantes said, winking. “Or... maybe not.”

You hesitated, about to take a seat, when Matthew grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. You stayed there. You didn’t have to—but you didn’t move.

Caleb sat between Lea and Cassandra. You caught Lea glance at him, quickly looking away when Cassandra leaned into his side, possessive.

Kiko sat stiffly beside Dantes and River, watching the crayons with a suspicious glare. One by one, everyone reached in and took a crayon. Matthew’s hand slid around your waist, holding you still on his lap.