╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
— DAY THREE —
season one, episode three, part two

❝𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬?❞

─── • ───

⚠️ TW: mentions of physical abuse and addiction ⚠️

DOT CAMPBELL

"While we were on that island, I think I realized how tired I was," Dot confessed in the interrogation room, her thoughts processing as she finished off another strawberry milkshake. "Like, that wasn't something I'd been willing to admit for a while."

"Well, of course you were tired," Faber sympathized from the opposite end of the table. "It was a chaotic night, a long hike — I mean, who wouldn't be tired after that?"

"Right... after that," Dot laughed in spite of herself, shaking her head as she noticed Agent Young scribbling notes on his clipboard. "After your ability to rationalize everything just goes to shit, after the dam sort of just... explodes. Because you think you know what you've got buried down there — under the surface — but you don't always," the redhead admitted bluntly. "And sometimes it can surprise the shit out of you..."

─── • ───

"Um, what about something a bit more basic?" Blaire and Toni heard Martha's voice as they approached the campsite, noticing how the Native-American girl had awoken from her pill-bender and was now flipping through Leah's book with Fatin out of boredom. "You know, like, how do I even get a guy to like me?"

"Oh, that's easy!" Fatin exclaimed, preparing to give Martha an insight to relationship advice. "You just stop paying attention to them, and then they appear out of nowhere."

Taking this as a sign of the strange irony of the world, Toni chose to make her and Blaire's presence known into the conversation by slamming the upper torso of the mannequin into the sand in front of Fatin and Martha, who both jumped at the sudden intrusion.

"So this guy washed up," Toni explained with a small laugh, "is he good for anything?"

"Consider him a peace offering," Blaire muttered, taking a seat next to Fatin, who breathed a sigh of relief that they were back on good terms. "You know, because I was acting like such an angsty bitch earlier."

"I could never stay mad at you," Fatin threw an arm over Blaire's shoulders and pulled her into a side-hug. "I'm sorry for being pushy before, it was wrong," she added in a whisper. "Because I know now that you'll tell me whenever you're ready, and that's fine with me, okay?"

"Okay," Blaire echoed, releasing the breath in her lungs hesitantly as they pulled away. "Thanks, Fatin."

"Anything for you, my lesbian lover," Fatin joked again, winking teasingly, before closing Leah's book and placing it down on the sand beside her. "All right, as we wait for the Virgin Mary and the Bear Grylls wannabe to get back, I propose we give our new man-friend a makeover," she rose to her feet and caught the attention of Martha and Toni, who were conversing a few yards away. "Now which one of you leg-humpers is with me?"

"Fuck it," Blaire raised her hand obligingly, "I'm in."

"That's the spirit!" Fatin exclaimed, squealing.

"We're in, too!" Martha volunteered herself and Toni, who merely rolled her eyes but took a step forward nonetheless, earning a grin of approval from Fatin.

The four of them spent the next twenty-minutes gathering various materials, such as lipstick, the pink-visors from the retreat swag bags, and the pilot's shirt they found in his bag, before gathering around the fire and getting to work on the mannequin. Blaire had to admit that the whole thing was a little strange, and had they not have been delirious from being stranded on an island, it probably wouldn't have happened. But, as it was, it was providing each of them a much-needed distraction from their own horrific reality.

"Yeah, see, he doesn't really read as straight to me," Toni commented to the others, pulling the pilot's shirt over the mannequins shoulders that were made of ridiculously defined plastic. "I mean, look at those abs. Straight boys don't rock an eight-pack that hard."

"Hmm, I don't know," Blaire faked thinking about it, biting her lips to fight a smile. "Something about him screams toxic masculinity. Like, I feel like he's about to mansplain some shit to me and give me the ick."

"He could also be a straight gym-rat fuckboy, you know?" Fatin hovered over them, pacing back and forth as she joked. "All about his 'gram channel, sprays Acqua Di Gio on his balls, and he will always leave you on read."

"Sounds like most of my exes," Blaire nodded, using one of Fatin's lipsticks to draw the outline of an obnoxiously large penis on the mannequin. "But hey, they sure as hell weren't packing like this!"

"Mhm, Marcus here will break your fucking heart!" Fatin agreed with a laugh, slapping the chest of the mannequin lightly as she tied an ascot around the base of its neck. "He's a different breed with a dick that size!"

"Marcus?" Martha questioned in amusement.

"Yeah, where did Marcus come from?" Toni asked with a smile etched on her face, and Blaire couldn't hold back her own lips from curling upwards even if she tried. Especially when Toni's happiness was that contagious and her laugh that comforting.

It was strange.

Blaire had never given much attention to Toni's smile before, never noticed how it reached her ears and made her eyes sparkle with a childlike innocence. Maybe it was because every moment Blaire could recall of Toni smiling or laughing like that, she never was the reason behind them. It was confusing, feeling all those hundreds of things at once. It was confusing, and Blaire didn't know what it was because up until an hour ago, she could not deal with Toni anymore.

But now, the things that she was feeling only made her want to deal with Toni. Blaire didn't know what that meant, the only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted to stay right there — in that specific moment — for as much time as possible.

"I don't know, but it's a vibe."

Fatin's voice was enough to snap Blaire out of her thoughts, and she tried to cover the embarrassment that rose in her cheeks with a giggle at the name the Pakistani-American girl chose.

"I mean... it's kinda close to my name," Martha pointed out, tilting her head as she pretend to glance longingly at the mannequin. The four of them all shared a laugh at that, each of them letting themselves have fun for the first time since they'd crash-landed on the island.

"Honestly, I feel the chemistry," Fatin gestured between Martha and the mannequin with a smirk, causing Toni and Blaire to share a look before busting into more laughter as Martha kept the joke going.

"Yeah, Marty, get it!" Toni told her friend in-between laughs, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, as Fatin collapsed on the sand, clutching her stomach from the exertion of her giggles; each of their cheeks had started to hurt from laughing so much.

"He's so into you, oh my God," Blaire nudged Martha on the shoulder playfully. "Look at him, he's blushing!"

The four of them bursted into more simultaneous laughter, and before they could even ride out the extent of their comical high, Dot and Shelby emerged from the tree-line of the inland forest, their eyebrows furrowing slightly at the sight of the mannequin.

"We're back! Unscathed," Shelby announced as her and Dot rocked back up to the campsite, causing the laughter to die down as everyone's attention shifted towards the duo. Blaire looked up at them both, meeting the immediate gaze of Shelby, who smiled back at her widely.

"And we found a cave," Dot added happily, and her voice was enough for Blaire and Shelby to break their eye-contact, covering their moment with the elatedness of such good news. Maybe after the nightmare that was the rainstorm, their luck was starting to turn around for the better. "So if rescue doesn't show in the next couple of hours, I suggest we get a move on."

"Thank god," Fatin raised her hands in a dramatic spectacle, rejoiced. "I cannot take another night with wet sand in my crack."

"Who's this?" Shelby inquired as Fatin turned the mannequin around, wanting to understand the joke that lingered in the air between the four girls.

"That's Marcus," Martha replied bluntly, flashing a smile towards the two Texans who were looking slightly perplexed at the new addition to the campsite. "Toni and Blaire found him on the beach."

"Oh... that's nice," Shelby's lips formed a straight line before she looked to the drawn penis uncomfortably. Blaire furrowed her eyebrows at this response, but shrugged it off as Shelby spoke again. "I don't have a ton of experience, but doesn't that seem especially large?"

Fatin shrugged, "Martha likes them hung."

They all broke out into laughter at that, relishing in the fleeting moment of teenaged normalcy, before Rachel's distant voice sounded from the shoreline. Blaire turned at once to see Leah, Rachel, and Nora rushing towards her and the others, each of them soaking wet and heaving as they attempted to drag something across the beach.

And just like that, reality had started caving in...

─── • ───

MEANWHILE...

Gretchen paced in front of her wall of monitors, each of which depicted a different angle of the island. Her hands rubbed together eagerly, while an expression of uncharacteristic gentleness etched on her face at what was happening on the screens in front of her.

Her assistants, Susan and Thom, had their eyes glued to a close-up version of the images they'd pulled up on their desktops, observing each of the girls carefully and scribbling notes in the margins of their research every few moments. It had been their third day surveying the subjects, and they were still dedicated to creating a thorough analysis to attribute to the end result of their experiment.

"Milestone eight!" Gretchen exclaimed, watching in real-time as Rachel and Leah heaved an orange and black box in front the water on the monitor. "They reached milestone eight a full two weeks ahead of my projection. They're just... God, they're so brilliant, I could scream."

Thom and Susan shared a glance behind her back, unsure of what to make of the situation. Then, as silence stirred for a few fleeting seconds, Thom cleared his throat.

"So have you started playing favourites?"

"Oh, come on, that's not praxis," Gretchen shrugged him off with a wave of her hand, though with one look over her shoulder, a slight smile broke onto her lips. "Okay, there are two. The first one is shrewd, skeptical, almost to the point of paranoia. Even though I'm sure she's going to be a major pain in my ass, I'm still drawn to subject six."

"Have her suspicions already been raised?" Thom inquired curiously, flipping through his files.

"A few, but you know what milestone eight entails," Gretchen mused, not willing to draw much attention to their paranoid subject. "I'm sure it'll kill any doubts."

Susan sat up in her chair, "And the other?"

"Subject three," Gretchen acknowledged with a fond smile, her eyes focusing on one of the teenagers on the screen. "And although I'm inclined to give that answer due to our personal connection, there's so much more that I've found fascinating about her."

Thom and Susan nodded simultaneously, understanding the underlying connection evident in her subject file.

"The benefactor's interest aside, she's proven herself to be someone to look out for," Gretchen continued, unbiased. "Subject three has made her presence known on the island, but she's an unpredictable and indecisive force that'll be difficult to control. Keep a close eye on her, won't you?" she asked of Thom and Susan. "Believe me, she will be the one to show those timid-minded fucks what bold measures can do..."

─── • ───

BACK ON THE ISLAND...

With each tug more forceful than the last and Nora trailing behind them, Rachel and Leah carried the black box a few yards before dropping it onto the sand in front of the campfire. Blaire was stunned to realize that, along with a few Diet Cokes and packets of peanuts, Rachel had managed to retrieve the flight recorder from the wreckage.

It was well past midday by the time they'd made it back to the base camp, though twenty to thirty more minutes passed as the girls hovered over Dot, who carefully inspected the exterior of the box.

Martha spoke up first, breaking the silence with a question that was playing on all of their minds, "So what do we do with it?"

"What are you all looking at me for?" Dot asked once she realized that she held the group's undivided attention, unaware that she'd become the non-appointed leader of the group. "I don't know dick about planes. Two days ago was the first time I'd ever even been in one."

"We should open it," Leah suggested, her cerulean eyes were void of any emotion besides that of curiosity as to what was in the black and orange box.

"But it says right on the thing —"

"Martha, I know, but if we were to get inside, we might find the actual recording," Leah reasoned, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "Like... like, the actual tape of what happened to us up there."

"Don't we kind of already know what happened?" Martha questioned, the wind jostling her long dark hair, which Blaire had just noticed was adorned with a single blue highlight.

"Do we?" Leah raised her eyebrows. "Can somebody tell me, like, the full account? From the turbulence to the moment you woke up here?"

Blaire looked between the group for a moment, her gaze lingering on Toni, remembering how she woke up on the beach with her that first day. Her eyebrows furrowed from her spot next to a cross-legged Martha, and Blaire realized just how little she remembered after the turbulence began on the plane.

"Okay, you've made your point," she spoke up, not willing to waste any more time with silence. "But why does it matter? Like, the gaps in our memories are kinda strange, but... knowing what happened won't exactly change anything."

"Maybe not, but what about how big and loud the 'Do Not Open' is?" Leah titled her head towards the New Yorker, her eyes pleading. "Part of me feels like it's telling us to do the opposite, like it's being ironic."

"Fuck, no," Rachel shot down the idea with an assertive tone. "We're not opening it!"

"You said there was maybe, like, a transmitter in here, beaming out our location?" Dot asked, looking over at Nora, who was now bundled up in Fatin's furry pink jacket, looking almost comical.

"Yeah, it's called a beacon, I think," Nora nodded, bringing her legs up to her chest. "It's like, a nautical term?"

"Okay, but if they haven't found us yet, can't we assume that this beacon thing is busted?" Shelby tossed out, her eyebrows drawn in as she looked between Dot and Blaire. "I mean, maybe if we —"

"'DO NOT OPEN'! What part of that is unclear?" Rachel interjected, throwing her hands up as Blaire felt herself flinch at the aggression in her tone. "What if we open it and break a completely functional beacon? That would wipe us off the grid entirely, is that what you want? 'Cause if that's what you all want, you're fucking damaged," she finished, looking at the others as Dot peered into the flight recorder from the top using her penlight.

"There's a bulb inside, but it's out," the redhead told them after a moment, clicking off the light as she leaned back.

Martha exhaled, "Okay, so that means it's definitely broken, right?"

"If someone suggests opening it one more time, I swear to God," Rachel voiced her frustrations, trying her hardest to remain calm despite everything.

"What do you think, Dorothy?" Fatin averted her
attention over to Dot who just sighed, far too tired of bearing the accountability that came with making tough decisions.

"Okay, y'all, what we choose to do right now should not be in the hands of just one person." Shelby chimed in, coming to the redhead's rescue. "Not that Dottie couldn't handle it, but we shouldn't put that much responsibility on her."

─── • ───

Faber leaned over the table as Dot recounted her story, now on the edge of his seat from the suspense, while Agent Young kept his curiosities to himself back in the interrogation room.

"So how did you resolve it?"

Dot shrugged, "That was the first time we voted..."

─── • ───

"All those in favour, raise your hands," Shelby instructed, causing everyone to raise their hands except for Rachel and Nora, who was trying to abide by her sister's wishes. "All right, then. Majority rules," she concluded, and with the screwdriver they had secured from the pilot's bag, Dot popped open the device, revealing the busted bulb and infrared wires.

"Holy shit," she marvelled, and Blaire's eyes went wide as the recorder emitted a cheerful beep when Dot slid one of the circuits back into place. "Do you think that means it's working?" she asked with a glance towards Nora, hoping the younger Reid twin could provide some knowledgeable insight.

"I mean, I don't know," Nora shrugged, shying away from all of the attention, "but I'd assume so..."

"So it's on?" Martha asked, obvious hope woven within her tone. "Now they're gonna find us?"

"Let's go!" Toni cheered as she grabbed onto Martha, both of them optimistic. "Fuck to the yes!"

"Wait a second." Dot removed what looked to be the actual audio recorder, the device plainly equipped with a time stamp and the four main media control buttons. "I think this is it... the recording from the flight," she muttered, handing it to Leah who wasted little to no time pressing the play button.

Blaire pulled her legs to her chest on the sand, waiting with baited breath. Not long after, voices echoed clearly from the speaker; the pilots were talking back and forth, ultimately clearing one another for departure. Deeming that information categorically irrelevant, Leah found herself fast-forwarding a few seconds ahead, eventually finding the point in which they started experiencing the turbulence.

"294 out of range, engaging distress signal. We've gone off-course. Mayday, Mayday, May—" Blaire shuddered as the recording whirred, voices now meshing together as Leah skipped ahead further. "Lost thrust in both engines. We're off course —"

Leah fast-forwarded again.

"Cabin pressure is gone. The girls are unconscious," the pilot explained over the intercom, an emergency alarm blaring in the background. "We've got complete engine failure. I'm gonna have to put this down in the water. Unlatch the exits, make sure the girls have flotation devices," he instructed over the chaos. "294, out of range! Mayday, Mayday, Mayday! We've lost thrusts in both engines and are attempting a water landing."

Blaire felt a single tear roll down her cheek; the fear in the pilot's voice was enough to leave goosebumps trailing along her exposed skin. The others were no different, all of whom were equally as traumatized; with Martha crying silently on Toni's shoulder, and Nora covering her ears from the overstimulation, slowly finding herself slipping into an anxiety attack.

"Hold on for attempt — oh, shit! Mayday, Mayday, Mayday — !" the pilot's message cut off with an eerie static sound, signalling the end of the recording.

"We should've died," Leah stated candidly, causing everyone else to remain silent in inaudible agreement. The nine girls on the island now found themselves avoiding eye-contact, unwilling to offer each other a nod or a brief look out of fear of what it could mean.

"But we didn't," Dot countered with a breath of relief, trying to focus on the positive. "We're alive," she offered a reassuring smile, and while the nine of them might not have been able to agree on much else, their survival was undeniably a miracle.

"Lucky us," Blaire muttered under her breath, and as the words left her mouth, she slowly felt that suffocating feeling return, weighing on her chest...

─── • ───

The rest of the evening passed within the blink of an eye, for neither of the delegates seemed willing to address the heavy burden each of them now carried. Instead, they packed up everything they could from their makeshift campsite and relocated to the cave Dot and Shelby had scouted a bit further down the coast. The air in the cave was thick with humidity, and the smell that filled Blaire's nostrils as she walked inside was one of earthy undertones and wilderness.

While the others settled inside and talked amongst themselves, Blaire found herself isolated on a rock outside of the cave entrance, hugging her legs to her chest as she watched the sun set over the horizon. The colour of the sky had construed together, though it remained indifferent to her and her internal agony.

In the light of what she now knew, the idea of being alive to watch the sunset over the treetops should've been the greatest treasure on earth, yet Blaire could not appreciate it. Her senses had been spiked by the calamity of listening to the audio of the plane crash. Tears filled her eyes at the thought of it, and she shook her head and looked out over a valley of vast wilderness, listening to the animal noises rustling through the silence.

Without realizing it, Blaire was digging her fingernails into her arms, trying to resist physical pain. Her motivation to find a way off the island had become fragmented, and only now that it was gone did she realize how much she had been counting on it. The regret in the pit of her stomach broke over her now like lava, scorching her from the inside, wiping out every other feeling.

There was nothing Blaire wouldn't give to see her family and friends again, to have someone there as she wrestled with unknown terrors, alone and afraid. Part of her wished she could stop her thoughts from drifting as the light of the moon shun around her. Her mind had taken control, however, and she found herself wondering if her father would blame himself for making her come on this trip, if her sister would resent her for not keeping her promise —

The memories crept in again, teasing her with the nostalgia, before consuming her completely. Blaire felt them bring about feelings of frustration she harbored toward her father, and her thoughts flashed back to the night that was one of the worst of them all...

"You're not going out."

"Excuse me?" Blaire whirled, hair swinging in a dark blur, to look at her father, who hadn't even bothered to turn around as she breezed down the hall to the front door. Her hand wrapped around the doorknob, she waited.

Peter Diamante glanced over at his daughter from his spot on the couch and gave her the look that she'd grown to hate. With a half-empty beer bottle in hand, he raised his eyebrows as if he couldn't imagine that anyone would possibly countermand a word that came out of his mouth.

"I said you're not going out."

Blaire shot him a funny look, "Why not?"

He looked away and shifted back to whatever television show he'd been watching before he replied, sighing, "I need you to watch your sister."

"I'm sorry?" Blaire's jaw clenched instinctively, her grip around the doorknob tightening. "What, are you somehow incapable of watching her by yourself for a few hours?"

"I have a meeting," Peter answered mildly.

"Sure you do," Blaire tore her hand from the doorknob and stalked over to him, a scowl on her face. "And let me guess, you might go to the bar afterwards for a drink?"

Peter's face, which until then wore an infuriating mask of calmness, had twitched at his daughter's ability to see right through him; it gave Blaire a savage pleasure. She ignored the niggling sadness, the part of her that remembered wanting to see her father happy after his wife — her mother — had walked out on them.

But, of course, the only way to make Peter happy nowadays was to supply him with enough alcohol that he wouldn't remember anything the next morning, and Blaire wasn't about to pretend that he wouldn't call her at two-in-the-morning to pick him up at the local bar, drunk and wobbling as he always was on a Friday night.

And so, Blaire took another dig at him, hoping that tough love would disturb the common sense within him.

"Do you think I don't know what's been going on?" she asked, scorn dripping from every word. "Like, is that the little fantasy world you've been living in?"

Peter's eyes hardened and he downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp. "Clearly I have been living in a fantasy, Blaire," he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "For thinking, even for a second, that I've taught my daughter to have any ounce of respect for her father."

"Give me a break," Blaire laughed spitefully, wildly at the thrill of throwing everything back in his face. "It's been six months since mom left, and all you've done is drink yourself into an oblivion. You're not the only one who lost her, you know?" Her voice cracked, "And I'm not stupid either, dad. So why don't you stop trying to pretend like you don't have a fucking problem?"

The two members of the Diamante family stared at one another for a very long, tense moment; Blaire had a look of silent defiance on her face, while Peter's expression was unreadable. She thought that maybe she'd won, that he would realize she was right and apologize for leaving her and Maya to fend for themselves. Not that she'd stop being mad at him, but if he'd just say he was sorry for once and agree to get some help, it would be a start.

But when Peter spoke, all he said was, "Are you done?"

Blaire's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, but Peter cut her off before she could say anything and rose to his feet to stand face-to-face with his daughter, towering over her.

"Please spare me another fucking self-righteous, adolescent rant," he demanded with such a harshness that Blaire flinched and took a step backwards, her thoughts running rampant with sudden comparisons of Finn Hayward. Her father had never used that tone or such scathing language with her before. "I'm not going to listen to a damn thing you have to say anymore."

Deep inside the most detached part of her mind, Blaire knew that meant in a way she had won — she had hurt him, and now he was lashing out in the way he was best at. But she felt like she'd been slapped, even punched, as her reply died on her lips, choked off by the sudden lack of air in her lungs.

And the worst part was that he knew.

Peter knew exactly what to say to make her feel just the way she did; Blaire could see the realization in his eyes. Her throat clogged with emotion, she couldn't bring herself to think about the quick flash of regret that she saw, because why should he regret tearing her down?

"I hate you," she forced out under her breath.

"And you think I haven't heard that before?" Peter asked without missing a beat, smiling completely humorlessly. "God, you sound just like your mother."

Something seemed to crack inside of Blaire at those words, to splinter into a thousand pieces, and it hurt more than she had been expecting, almost as though her heart was made of glass and the shards were now piercing her insides, drawing blood, like her father was so good at.

And like she was.

Like she had learned from him.

Before he could say another word, Blaire fled from the room to her own, where she would the door shut before she'd open the window violently and climb out, running into the night with no destination in mind. Tears stung her eyes, even a sob tore from her throat, and Blaire was struck by a sense that she had no idea if she was running from something or towards it.

Maybe what she'd felt break within her was her childhood. Her innocence. The illusion that her life here was normal, that she and her father could have the relationship they'd had before, and that they could be a happy family again...

But, as her mascara ran down her cheeks, she realized that no amount of running would bring her closer to that.

The thought of her father made the seventeen-year-old blink back tears, her dark eyes fixated on the ground beneath her as she anxiously rubbed her hands together. Her moment of reflection didn't last much longer, however, as Toni had ventured outside of the cave to join her. The two of them made brief eye-contact before Toni sat down on the uneven terrain next to Blaire, cross-legged, gathering her thoughts before speaking.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting a reflective moment," she began with an ode to their conversation the night before, and Blaire felt her lips quirk upwards. "But, out of respect of our fresh start, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Things got a little heated earlier, and I noticed you haven't said much since the recording."

"I guess it really fucked me up then, huh?" Blaire let out rueful laugh in spite of herself, and Toni frowned at the way her voice broke at the words. "It just made me, like, think a lot about the life I left behind, you know? And I know you probably think that I'm being pathetic, that I'm just a 'rich, preppy white girl' because of everything that happened on the plane or whatever. But I feel like being here is making me realize how fucked up my life truly was," she finished, hoping Toni knew she was being as honest as she could be.

"I don't think that."

"What?"

"About you being pathetic," Toni confessed, looking to the ground, feeling too embarrassed to look Blaire in the eye. "I mean, you're definitely still a 'rich, preppy white girl'," she laughed and changed tact quickly, "but you're definitely not pathetic, Blaire. Honestly, I think you're just thinking too much."

"It sounds ridiculous, I know," Blaire was the one to look down at the ground this time. "Like, I'm not going to pretend like my life back home was the worst thing in world, but it definitely wasn't easy..."

"Just because some people have it worse doesn't mean you should overlook what makes your life fucking hard," Toni voiced with a reassuring smile, which Blaire reciprocated immediately.

"That was real poetic," she laughed. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Read it on a fortune cookie once," Toni admitted, her smile growing wider. "But hey, spare me a lecture on originality, okay? Because I'm new to this whole 'being vulnerable' thing," she anxiously tapped her finger against her thigh, trying to find the right words. "But I just figured that if we're going to be stuck on this island together, we might as well make the best out of an otherwise shitty situation."

Blaire looked up to meet Toni's eyes with the purest of intentions, and the tension between them had since disappeared, making the air feel lighter. Without knowing the reason why, Toni felt a wave of nervousness rushing inside of her. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, which wasn't as uncomfortable as Blaire it would be, both of them now staring out to the trees and noticing how the moon was casting shadows over the wilderness.

"You know, I think I'm going to like this whole 'starting over' thing," Blaire spoke up, twisting the rings on her fingers out of anxiousness. Toni watched, very entertained with the New Yorker's nervousness, pretending like she herself wasn't about to go into heart failure thinking about what Blaire was about to say to her. "You're not so bad when you're not, you know, being a rude, judgmental bitch," she laughed, waiting for the basketball player's reaction.

To her surprise, Toni was trying to fight a smile.

"Don't give me too much credit," she said jokingly, and Blaire was glad that Toni picked up on the humour of their conversation. "I'll probably do something that'll piss you off tomorrow, and then we'll be right back to square one."

"At least you're self-aware," Blaire mused, smirking to herself. "I can work with that."

"I'm not even going to pretend to know what you mean by that," Toni shook her head with a laugh and stood. Blaire realized that it was getting late and that they should probably head inside the cave, but still frowned at the end of their conversation nonetheless. "Oh, by the way," she added with a glance over her shoulder, "I set up, like, a makeshift bed for you inside, just like the rest of us. Figured you'd prefer that to sleeping on solid rock, you know? So just come inside when you're ready."

And with that, Toni turned back around and started to walk back to the cave entrance before Blaire abruptly reached out for her, grabbing hold of her hand and stopping her in her tracks. Her eyebrows furrowed, Toni spun around and felt her heart start racing at the sight of Blaire's soft smile, making her breath catch at the unexpected softness of her skin.

"Thanks, Toni," Blaire told her, squeezing her hand once to show how grateful she was before gently letting it go. "Goodnight."

Toni gulped and shoved her hands in her pockets.

"Y-Yeah, of course," she cleared her throat. "Night."

Maybe this time it could be different.

─── • ───

author's note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

hope you enjoyed chapter six!!

that's the end of dot's episode (an underrated character fyi) lmk what you think of blaire and toni's relationship so far!! toni's episode is up next so let's see how long that 'fresh start' lasts 👀 iykyk

ANYWAYS... also what's up with gretchen? hmm.

[insert begging for comments and votes]

see you in the next chapter! love ya <3

xo, selena

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