As soon as we got in the van, Grill started talking about how sexy Anya was, and how much he wanted to bone her, and it took all of my considerable self-control not to dive across the seat and strangle him right there. Max is sitting next to me, and he squeezes my arm when he sees the look on my face every time Grill opens his mouth.

“Daniel, it’s not worth it. You’ll get kicked off the show if you start a fight with this douche, and then you won’t be here to make sure he doesn’t get near her,” he whispers out of the corner of his mouth so the camera guy can’t hear him. I force down a growl and nod.

“You’re right. If I get my hands on him, the cameras won’t be around.”

Max chuckles, and I try to tune out Grill and his posturing. The rest of the guys chat for the rest of the drive, and I just look out the window and watch the scenery as it passes by. Everything is beautiful, but I have a hard time enjoying it, mostly because I can’t stop thinking about Anya in the other car, or what nonsense they’re about to make us do for the show. The van pulls to a stop in front of a scenic beach, with a beach shop on one side and a surf shack on the other. It’s like a shot from a postcard, and even in my surly mood, I can’t help but be in awe of it.

For a minute anyway.

We crawl out of the van, and the first thing I notice, way out on the water, is some sort of bouncy trampoline apparatus, connected to a series of wires and pulleys. Max grabs my arm, nervous.

“Dude, do we have do stunts or something? I’m afraid of heights. Like, deathly afraid. Do you think she can just send me home now? If I ask? I bet she can. I’m just going to leave now. I’ll just wait in the van. I’m going to get back in the van.” He’s babbling faster than his mouth can keep up with him and he’s basically mumbling now. I have to give him a little shake.

“Max! Get ahold of yourself, man! They’re not going to have you do anything dangerous, or that you can’t handle. I’ll stay with you the whole time. But you can’t come this far just be a wimp now,” I say as Carrie starts corralling us toward the sand. I can see in his eyes that he isn’t buying it, but I’m not going to let him wuss out and leave me. He’s the only sane guy here at the moment, and for whatever reason, the only one I trust not to go after Anya.

Speaking of, the car that Anya arrived in is just idling in front of the van, but she hasn’t gotten out yet. Carrie starts directing the camera operators around, and then turns to us with her giant grin. “Okay, fellas! As you can see, your first challenge has been set up out on the water. This is fairly low key compared to some of the things we have planned later, so start getting used to the idea that you’re going to be doing some physical stuff, and remember… you signed a medical waiver. Just FYI!”

Her tone is so cheery, it almost hides the implication that if any of us get injured, we can’t sue the production company. Or that there is a chance we may get injured. Paul raises his hand.

“Excuse me, but has anyone ever actually been injured or… you know… on this show?”

Carrie waves a dismissive hand at Paul. “You’re big strong men! You can handle anything we throw at you, right? Darius should be here any minute, and then we’ll get started. In the meantime, I want to get some B-roll of you milling around, while I do some one-on-ones with you. Daniel, I want to start with you.”

I look around at the other guys, then point at myself. “Me? What do you want to talk to me about?”

“This is going to be a long six weeks if you argue with me every time I ask you to do something,” she says impatiently. So, I relent.

“Fine, all right. Where do you want me?”

“Over by the surf shack,” Carrie answers as she points behind her. The other guys follow the camera crew over the beach, and I walk with Carrie to the surf shack, grabbing a bench in front of a row of surf boards. I run my finger along a long board. “I’d so rather be surfing right now,” I sigh as I plop down on the wooden bench. Carrie waves over one of the camera guys and gives me a curious raise of her eyebrow.

“You really don’t want to be here, do you, Daniel?”

I look up at her from my lap, and shrug. “I mean, it’s not how I’d choose to spend my downtime from recording, no. I should be back in LA, working with the guys. Not getting ready to perform acrobatics on a beach in Mexico.”

“We covered how you ended up here in your earlier interview. But what we didn’t ask you was, do you regret your behavior?”

“What kind of a silly question is that? Of course, I do,” I answer, trying to stifle the urge to just get up and walk away. But I know Carrie and her cameras would just follow me.

“Okay, you regret it. But why did you do it to begin with?”

I’m about to answer with more snark, but then I stop and really think about what she asked me. Why did I do something so stupid and selfish? Why would I do that?

“Because I was lonely. Because we’d been on the road for months pushing the album, and I hadn’t felt connected to anyone in a really long time. In years. Because I drink too much to dull the pain of how lonely I’ve been, since…”

“Since you and Anya broke up?”

I didn’t expect Carrie to pick up on that but she’s more perceptive than I thought. I also can’t believe I just spilled my guts on camera like a total fool. I keep forgetting that all of this is going to end up on television, and I’m going to have to answer for every dumbass thing I say once the show airs. I try to regain my composure.

“Something like that. I’d take back every stupid thing I’ve ever done if I could, especially the ones that hurt the people I love. But I can’t. All I can do is move forward, and try to live a better life, and leave the world better than I found it.”

I look up from the ground, and suddenly, Anya is standing behind Carrie and the camera guy, watching me like a hawk. I stop talking, and Carrie turns around, surprised when she sees Anya.

“Cut the tape, Roger. Anya, I thought you were waiting in the car with Rose until we started shooting the physical challenge scene. Can you meet us over by the van?”

Anya nods, and turns away hesitantly, keeping her eyes on me until the absolute last minute. Carrie spins back to me, and shakes her head with a smile. “You two…”

“What?” I ask, defensively.

“Forget it. Nothing. Let’s join the others before we lose the sunlight. The day is going to get away from us and I don’t want to have to pay for the six extra guys any longer than I have to.”

Everything Mara told me about the show had already slipped from my mind. But she had mentioned that the first six guys to get sent home go rather quickly, leave one guy to go a week after that, with a three-week long finale episode where the “single lady” picked the winner. The top two guys were even supposed to take Anya home to meet their families, which would be really uncomfortable for both of us, since our families were pretty well acquainted with one another. I’m fairly confident her father would punch me in the face if he saw me again, and I’m not sure I’m down for that kind of reintroduction.

I jump up from the bench and follow Carrie to where the guys are milling around. Stuart, the red-haired guy with an accent that makes him sound like he should be at the helm of a viking ship, is showing Anya how to properly stand on a surfboard, and I feel myself get instinctively jealous. I know I shouldn’t, and I know I have no right to, but I do. So, I take a few steps back, and over to where Max is standing with one of the guys I haven’t been properly introduced to yet. I join them by a patch of palm trees.

“How did your interview go, man?” Max asks as I walk up.

“As well as you’d expect,” I answer as I hold out my hand. “I’m Daniel. We haven’t met.”

“Alex,” he says with a thousand-watt smile and dimples that could melt a glacier. His eyes are the color of spring grass, and I get the feeling he’s super popular with the ladies. We shake hands, and suddenly, I think I see that look in Max’s eyes that I had when I saw Stuart with Anya a minute earlier.

Ohhhh, got it, I think to myself. I pat Max on the shoulder and am just grateful that there are two more guys I don’t have to worry about fighting over Anya for the next six weeks, especially if she keeps them.

“So, Alex, what do you do?” I ask, hoping I can make another friend to ease the stress of the next six weeks.

“I work at a coffee shop in LA, but I DJ at night. I do a pretty good business at… clubs.” He stumbles as he tries to cover his words, and I just laugh.

“Uh-huh. Well, you’ll have to give me your card. We can always use to DJs to spin before our shows when we’re in the area. I can have our tour manager give you a call when this whole insanity is over.”

Alex lights up. “Hey! No shit? That’s awesome, thanks!”

We chat for a few minutes more before another sparkling black town car pulls up, and Darius gets out, dressed in khaki board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. His sunglasses are hiding his eyes, but he looks as annoyed and disinterested in being here as I am. Once the cameras turn on him, however, his charming smile is back, and he’s ready to host.

Carrie pushes us into a corner by a huge banner while Darius talks to the cameras out of earshot. She lowers her voice so no one can hear her but us.

“Okay, guys. You’re going to get strapped into harnesses and climb up to the top of the apparatus. Then your goal is jump from the top, hit the middle of trampoline, get the best air, and crash back down in the water with the biggest splash.”

Oscar pushes his glasses back up his nose, then clears his throat. “Pardon me for asking, but what exactly does this have to do with Anya picking a suitor?”

“It’s a points-based system,” Carrie answers. “So, the guy with the most points is guaranteed to move forward to the next round. You’ll get points for the height and the splash.”

Everyone turns and looks at Grill, who is already smirking.

“Right, because that’s not fixing the game,” Stuart mutters under his breath. Apparently, Carrie has exceptional hearing because she turns to him and scowls.

“Okay, that’s enough of that. Just get in line under the banner. Darius will be over with the cameras and Anya in a second.”

We get into a single-file line, and Max inches as close to me as he possibly can. He’s a solid six-inches taller than me, and somehow, he has still shrunk down so he’s hiding behind my shoulder. I turn and look at him with a laugh.

“Max, you’ve got to be kidding me? Are you really that scared?”

He shivers. “I wanna go home.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, for the love of… Fuck it. We’re going to go up there together. I can see from here there are multiple harnesses. When you get sent up, I’ll run out and follow you, hook myself up, and we’ll jump together. What are they going to do? Throw me off into the water? I don’t think so.”

Max looks at me like I’m a superhero, and mouths “thank you,” before squeezing my arm. I just shake my head as Darius walks over to us with the cameras, and Anya at his side.

“So, Anya! Which of these handsome gentlemen do you believe will be your high-flying hero?”

She taps a finger to her chin and surveys the row of us. “I think Alex is going to be the dark horse of this race.”

“Oh, really?” Darius answers with a laugh. “Why don’t you give a kiss to your champion?”

Anya hesitates, then crosses over to give Alex a kiss on the cheek. He blushes, and everyone eggs him on. Once Anya is clear of us, Darius starts sending us one after the other to the trampoline out on the water. And it’s more of an arduous process than we expected. First, we have to swim out to the contraption, and given not all of us are great swimmers, it takes longer for some than others. Then, the cameras have to set-up, and follow the contestant across. Once the guy is clear, the cameras have to re-set all over again, and the process starts from the beginning. It feels like an eternity of standing around before Darius announces that it’s Max’s turn.

Max turns and looks at me, panicked. I whisper, “Just start swimming. I’ll be out there in a second.” He nods, and walks away from me like he’s being lead to the executioner. I wait for Darius to start narrating Max’s approach, and for Carrie to be distracted, and for Max to be most of the way out there, before I bolt for the water. I swim as fast I can, ignoring Carrie’s voice shouting at me from the beach, and end up reaching the ladder next to Max at the same time as him. I break the surface, and after wiping the salt water from my eyes, the first thing I see is his grateful grin.

“Seriously, Daniel, thank you.”

I shrug as I yank myself out of the water. “Whatever, man. You’d do the same for me.”

“If it involved jumping off something, no, I probably wouldn’t,” he says shaking his head. I laugh as a guy standing at the top of the tower leans over, squinting.

“Hey! Tattoos! Carrie says to get back on the beach!” he screams down at us. I scowl and square my shoulders as Max and I hang off the ladder.

“Nope. Tell her we jump together or we don’t jump at all. No negotiations. And of story.”

He sighs and leans back, and we can hear him muttering into his headset. A second later he leans back.

“Why are you going together?”

I roll my eyes. “Mind your business, that’s why!”

We hear him call me some names as he disappears again, and Max chuckles. “Are you trying to get sent home?”

“Not directly, but if it’s a happy accident…”

The guy returns. “Come up. But if you smash into each other and break your faces, don’t come crying to me about it, you hear? Carrie wants me to remind you again about those medical releases.”

“Fine!” Max and I yell as we start up the ladder together. When we get to the top, the guy who was yelling us starts strapping us into harnesses without making eye contact, while camera men hanging from the sides record everything that is happening. Suddenly, we hear Darius’ voice through a loudspeaker on either side of us.

“On my mark, you’re both going to jump for height and splash points! Ready, and three… two… one… JUMP!”

I hear Max scream as he basically just flails off the edge of the tower. As he goes, his arms jerk outwards, and he grabs my ankle, pulling me down with a thud, then dragging me off the edge behind him. I barely have time to register that we’re falling, not jumping, We tumble through the air, Max screaming like a banshee the whole way, until I feel my body collide with the trampoline. But because Max and I both hit at the same time, our weight levels out the bounce and instead, the tension goes hard, and we both go rolling off the side and into the water.

It takes me a minute to swim back to the surface, but when I get there, I see that Max is nowhere to be found. I groan and dive back under, only to see that Max is stunned, and having trouble kicking himself back to the surface of the water. So I kick back down, grab him by his shorts, and then swim both of us back up, even though the muscles in my legs are burning to hell now. I’m almost at the top when two of the camera men grab my shoulders and yank me out of the ocean, pulling Max up behind me. He coughs and sputters, and reach down and rub the cramps my calf muscles.

“What the hell is wrong with you two idiots?” one of the camera guys yells at me.

I don’t have time to answer. Darius’ voice comes over the loudspeaker again.

“A boat is coming to pick you two up. Stay where you are.”

I look over at Max and furrow my brown. “Well, that’s another fine mess you’ve gotten me into.”