Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
╭━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━━✶━━ ⋅𖥔⋅ ━╮
𝐸𝑅𝐸𝑁 ━━━━
Due to History's sudden departure, Bridget stopped by last night and informed everyone that there would be a recoupling soon. Given that the boys picked the first time and the public voted off someone, then that means it's most likely the girls' turn to choose.
And the guys are beyond nervous.
I'm not sure why they would be though; now that History is gone, the ratio of guys to girls is equal.
Hmmm...How long has it been since we first arrived...?
Time moves at a seemingly different pace on the island. I'm not even sure what day of the week it is. But it appears that way for everyone. Some say we've only been here for two weeks, others say three—I couldn't care less. All I know is that I need to solidify things with Y/n before I get voted off or something.
But there is only one problem: Violet.
This bitch will never let me be free.
8 billion people in the world, and she finds me on a remote island filming a reality show. My guess is that she's been keeping tabs on me since we called the engagement off.
Is she beautiful?
Yes.
Did I love her?
Yes.
Do I still want to be with her?
Absolutely not.
Being apart from her for all these years has been so refreshing. She was my first love, but not my last.
Earlier yesterday, she pulled me into her room to chat about the past and all of the memories we shared, but I was not giving her the time of day. Long story short, it sparked a massive argument between us, leaving me panting and out of breath from all the yelling, and her face the color of a tomato after being rejected.
But that's not even the worst part.
Y/n ran into us as we were leaving the room and now she's been ignoring me all day. I've explained to everyone else what happened, but the only person I can't get through to is Y/n, the person I want to speak to the most.
Violet always has to go and spoil something good.
In an attempt to push past the creeping memories of us together, I shrug off the blanket and head toward the kitchen. Y/n wasn't in bed when I woke up and she didn't get me my morning coffee like she usually does. I guess that means she's pretty pissed off. Did she even sleep in here last night?
"Hey there Princess," Connie's irritating voice says. "It is so nice of you to finally grace us with your presence."
When I look up, I see all of the guys sitting in a circle near the pool—probably feeding into another one of Connie's delusions.
