𝐔𝐩 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝙎𝙊𝙎𝙎 𝙊𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙨

Dangerous Moves (Part 3)

The sun rose slowly over Sulphur Springs, Louisiana, painting the sleepy town in shades of gold and pink. While most kids enjoyed a rare morning to sleep in, the cast of Netflix's newest reality series, Spill, gathered inside a buzzing production building.

The studio was sleek and cold, its polished floors gleaming under the harsh studio lights. The group sat around a long, sharp U-shaped table, with branded Starbucks cups scattered across its glossy surface like lifelines.

Glasses perched on tired faces. Pimple patches gleamed under the lights. Slouching bodies hinted at exhaustion. It was barely sunrise, but this was the reality now-early call times, endless prep, and long days. Being part of a TV show meant glamour came after the grind, and they were just starting to feel the weight of it.

The door creaked open, and Quay strolled in, his signature confident grin lighting up the room.

"Good morning, sleepyheads," he said, his tone chipper enough to make a few heads groan in response.

Without missing a beat, he made his way to the front of the room. But before reaching his mark, he slammed his binder down-hard-right next to Tristan's head, where it rested on the desk.

Tristan jolted upright, his hair a mess, his expression caught between confusion and pure exhaustion.

"How are we feeling today?" Quay asked, looking entirely too energized for this early in the morning.

"Do we have to do this every week?" Griffin asked, leaning back in his chair with a dramatic sigh.

"Do what?" Quay asked, raising an eyebrow like he didn't already know the answer.

"Wake up this damn early," Ariana mumbled, her face buried in her arms.

"Unfortunately for you, yes. Just about every week," Quay replied with a smirk. "But we get it-early mornings suck. That's why there's an IHOP bar being set up in the lobby."

That earned some attention. Heads lifted.

"Wake me up when the foods ready," Cici muttered, letting her head drop back onto the table.

Quay shrugged, amused. "Tempting, but nah. Anyway-wait, hold on. Where's Trusty and Cole?"

"Nyrie said she had a waxing appointment this morning," Griffin said casually, almost too casually. "No clue about Sydnee."

Silence. Every head at the table turned toward him, a mix of shock and suspicion in their eyes.

"And how the hell do you know Nyrie's getting waxed?" Bailey asked, narrowing her eyes.

Griffin hesitated. "She told me," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Player," Cici muttered under her breath.

"Right," Harper whispered, though her tone wasn't as quiet as she thought.

Griffin's eyes snapped to her, his glare sharp. "The hell does that mean, Harper?"

She shrugged, feigning innocence, but the tension in the room was impossible to miss. Quay watched the exchange with interest, a small smile tugging at his lips before he clapped his hands, breaking the moment.

"Ay, ay, ay, save it for the cameras," Quay said, holding up his hands like he was trying to calm a storm.

Harper rolled her eyes.

"Okay, everyone," Quay said, opening his binder with a dramatic flair. He flipped through the pages, looking for something before finally tapping the paper with a satisfied nod. "Got it. Big announcement time."