Revenge of the Island

Aftermath: 3/3

The episode opens in Chef’s kitchen with Julia, Chef, and Axel gathered around the counter. The tension is palpable.

“Maybe you should just apologize…” Julia mutters, her voice low but deliberate, as she glances at Axel. It’s clear she’s referring to Axel scaring MK off the previous night.

Axel, defensive, sits up straight in her chair. “I do not need to apologize to Caleb. How is it my fault he had MK untied?” she snaps back, crossing her arms.

Chef, sensing the situation escalating, intervenes, his voice calm but firm. “Okay, calm down. We’ve got bigger problems to focus on.”

The scene transitions to the lounge room, where Caleb, Wayne, and Bowie sit. Caleb is slumped on Chef’s worn-out couch, his head buried in his hands. Wayne sits beside him, his presence comforting but unsure of what to say.

“It’s fine, Caleb,” Wayne says gently, his tone reassuring as he pats Caleb on the shoulder.

“Seriously, it’s all good,” Bowie adds, standing nearby with his arms crossed, trying to sound confident even as his face betrays concern.

Caleb lifts his head slightly, his eyes rimmed with guilt. “I just feel like it’s my fault,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“We’ll find her, man,” Wayne says, trying to inject optimism into his voice, but Caleb only shakes his head.

“I shouldn’t have untied her to begin with,” Caleb responds, his voice cracking with regret.

The camera cuts to Damien in the bathroom, his hat in hand as he sets it down on the edge of the sink. He turns on the faucet, cold water rushing out, and splashes it onto his face. The chill jolts him, but it’s grounding.

He leans forward, gripping the sides of the sink, and stares at himself in the mirror. He feels ashamed. But not in the same way Caleb feels for freeing MK from her restraints, not the same way Axel secretly feels deep down.

His reflection feels foreign—this isn’t the person he used to be. Once, he was just an ordinary teenager with big dreams, signing up for a reality show to make some quick cash and maybe find fame. But that innocent cash-strapped teen is gone now.
His gaze narrows, and he smiles faintly, a hollow attempt at self-reassurance. It’s all he has left to keep himself moving forward. The truth is, he had considered ending it all during their time on the island. When the bodies started falling. The weight of the deaths, the suffocating dread, it had all felt unbearable.

But every time he’d come close, he stopped himself. He knew his death would only add to the grief and despair of the others. It would be one more loss, one more hole in the already shattered group.

When they were finally rescued, he thought the guilt would lift, but it hadn’t. Survivor’s guilt clung to him like a shadow, a constant reminder of everyone they’d lost. It was constantly there, gnawing at the back of his skull—reminding him of how he didn't deserve to live, how he deserved to die far more than anyone else who died on the island. It was him who should've had his head bashed against a rock. It was him who should've been hung high in the trees. It was him who should've been exiled from the cabin on a cold dark night, running for his undeserving life through the woods.

He’d tried to end it after they returned, unable to carry the weight any longer, but Caleb found him just in time.

Maybe that’s why Caleb is so kind to him now, why he always seems to give Damien—and everyone else—the benefit of the doubt. Caleb had seen Damien at his lowest, his most vulnerable, and never said a word to anyone else.

Damien takes a deep breath and pulls his hat back on, adjusting it as though it might shield him from the world. He exits the bathroom, his expression calm but his mind a whirlwind.

He knows how much the group despises Scary Girl, their collective hatred for her palpable.

That's why they can never know what he's done.