Chapter Text
Dr. Mel King climbs aboard the catamaran in Fiji and topples into the lap of the single most attractive man she’d ever seen in her life.
“I’m so sorry,” she says as the boat rocks wildly in the turquoise surf. The man grips her arm and helps her to the railing. He wears red swim trunks, a matching rash guard and a lifeguard’s long float. For a second, Mel thinks he’s part of the crew of Marooned to Millions, but as she studies him she notices in small print: Frank Langdon, Miami Ocean Rescue. He dons the color of the opposing tribe: purple Mataka. She’ll need to stay clear of him.
“No problem,” he says. He hasn’t let go of her arm and his eyes search her face. “You can sit there.” He nods to the seat next to him.
Mel glances at the rest of his tribe. Her team sits on the other side of the boat: green Yakavi. But Mel takes the seat he offers and politely nods as a slim Hispanic woman who introduces herself as Garcia.
Last to climb the gleaming catamaran is Maverick Von Lichtenstein, the eccentric billionaire who pioneered Marooned to Millions for NBC. Maverick dresses like a Las Vegas performer who trains Bengal tigers. He angles his long, spindly body up and into boat. His family had made their fortune through mining precious metals in Tanzania and he had created the reality show primarily as a way to entertain himself. The fact that his program had become a global smash hit was merely a delightful bonus.
“Welcome castaways!” Maverick says. A cameraman pans to him. “We’re starting the adventure of a lifetime together. One of you will be ten million dollars richer at the end of the game.” He grins and turns his face into the sun, tossing his hair against the wind. “Yes. Let’s depart.” He keeps smiling until he realizes the boat isn’t actually moving forward. “That’s your cue,” he says to the captain. “Let’s go.”
The boat lurches into motion and Frank grabs Mel as she tips forward from the burst of speed.
“Sorry,” she says. “I don’t spend a lot of time on boats.”
Frank nods. He has electric blue eyes and Mel swallows a lump in her throat. Attractive men like Frank have never paid her any attention before, but perhaps that’s because she’d never signed up for a cutthroat survival show where anyone could be an enemy. Or a friend, Mel thinks as she glances at Frank only to see his eyes still locked on her.
She clears her throat and wonders what she should say.
“I like your braids,” Frank says.
She’d done her hair in two simple dutch plaits. “Oh, thanks.”
“I could do them for you sometime,” Frank says. Garcia snorts and rolls her eyes. “What? I’m good at it,” Frank shoots back. “I have a daughter.”
“Oh, that’s so nice,” Mel says. “Is she your only child?”
“Two,” Frank says. He clenches his jaw. “Just the two.”
Mel wonders if she’d said something wrong. Coming into a social strategy game, she’d known she’d be at a disadvantage for being neurodivergent but she hadn’t thought it would start as soon as the first boat ride.
“We’ll be on opposing tribes so that might be difficult,” she says finally.
“Hello!” Maverick says as he whipped around the side of the boat to join them. “Did I hear someone’s in need of some Maverick magic?”
“Uh,” Mel says. The host wears a long caftan of shimmering gold fabric. The sleeves billow in the wind like a wizard’s robe as the soft scent of pachouli wafts off him. In person his presence is incredibly overwhelming. The TV cameras can't capture even a fraction of his oozing charm. “No?”
Maverick studies the three of them. “Very well,” he says and shoos one Mel’s tribe members so he can sit opposite her and Frank. “Carry on.”
“I assume that’s your luxury item?” Mel asks as she pointed at Frank’s float.
“Yeah.” It’s a long baton-like life preservers with MIAMI BEACH OCEAN RESCUE written in huge white font. “I thought it could be useful for fishing.”
“Smart,” Mel says.
“What did you bring?” Frank asks.
Garcia snorts again and leans into her. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“Oh.” Mel says. “No it’s fine,” she reaches into the pocket of her cargo pants and pulls out a deck of cards. “I thought it would be useful for getting to know people.” She blushes as she puts it back in her pocket. It isn’t useful for survival in the least. Most people bring something of value that would make them a smaller target for being eliminated: a knife or wool blanket or iron pot. Once someone gets voted out, their luxury item goes with them. Remove the castaway with a waterproof tarp -- good luck disassembling the shelter in the night.
“Interesting,” Frank says as he peered at her. “You’re a— what?”
“Nurse,” Mel says, a small white lie.
“Really? Me too!” A weasel-like contestant pipes up. “EM.”
“What are the odds?” Maverick says. “Two nurses. One big island.” His words imply that one of them is lying because Maverick has never repeated a profession before. But then again, he hasn't ever cast an entire season of first responders so Mel hopes everyone won't question her too deeply.
“Opposite tribes,” she says. Weasel-guy is purple, part of Frank’s tribe. “That makes sense.”
“No, no,” Maverick says. He snaps his fingers and glances around the boat. He points to a petite woman with straight brown hair. “Kim. You, switch buffs please.” The woman takes off her purple buff and offers it to Mel.
They trade and Mel wraps the Mataka buff around her wrist. Mataka means “morning” in Fijian. Yakavi: “dusk” or “night.” Mel is secretly pleased at the reassignment to the day tribe. So many terrible things happen at night and Maverick has a reputation for surprising contestants with unusual twists.
“Nice,” Frank says as he jiggles his foot in excitement. “I can do your hair now.”
Garcia covers her face with her hands. “Oh God,” she says. “Really?” She glances at the competitor on her right, a man with a warm smile and salt and pepper beard. “Tell me you’re getting this.”
He laughs. “Loud and clear.”
“You should ask to switch back,” Garcia tells Mel. “Or it’s going to be twenty-four seven of Captain Obvious until someone votes him off the island.”
“Hey!” Frank says. He holds up his left hand and his gold wedding ring glimmers in the sunlight. “I’m married. I’m just being nice.”
“Sure,” Garcia says. “You keep telling yourself that.”
Confession cam: “I thought he was three seconds away from leaning over and licking Mel,” Garcia says. “But supposedly he’s married? Something’s up with that lifeguard.”
When they arrive at the first beach, Maverick directs the Makata tribe through the waves onto the shore. The Yakavi castaways watch from the boat. As Mel gets up, Frank shakes his head.
“I’ll go first and I’ll catch you,” he says. He jumps over the edge of the boat and got firm footing in the waist-deep water.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Mel says as she climbs down the metal ladder and hits the surf.
“Me please!” Garcia says as she leaps into Frank’s open arms. He scowls but catches her.
As they unload, Maverick directs them up onto the soft white beach.
“You’ll notice your campsite is different from years past.” Maverick says to Makata. He snaps his fingers. “Lawrence? Where’s my Lawrence?”
“Here!” A slim twenty-something guy wearing thick aviator goggles raises his hand. He wades through the water to reach Maverick.
“Yes, Lawrence, please explain.”
“I’ve got retinitis pigmentos which causes a loss of vision,” the guy says.
Some of Mel’s cast members groan. Maverick insists on good sportsmanship and goes out of his way to recruit some of the strangest players ever encountered in reality television.
“Yes so we’ve made accommodations,” Maverick says as he gestures to the jungle. “There are colored ropes and special lights.” He snaps his fingers again. “Abbot, where’s my Abbot?”
“Present,” A grumpy man says from the boat. He reluctantly salutes.
Maverick claps. “Please explain.”
“Lost my leg in Iraq,” Abbot says as he lifts his pant leg to reveal a prosthetic. “I didn’t request any accommodations.”
“Yet here we are!” Maverick says with glee. “Yakavi will have a mountainside campsite for firmer terrain. Very well!” He indicates for the boat to leave. “See you shortly my dears.”
Firmer terrain, Mel thinks. Abbot probably wouldn’t do very well with a prosthetic in the sand. How smart. She wonders if there could be any accommodations for her neurodivergence but decides probably not in a social strategy game.
Maverick helps Lawrence up the shore and explains the rope system. Rainbow cords extend in every direction.
“This goes to the creekside,” he explains as he touches a blue rope. “This one goes to the fire pit,” as he handles a red cable. “This one to the main sleeping structure,” an orange one. And on and on.
"I don't think that's very fair," one of the tribe members shouts. "How come these two get special treatment?"
Maverick's eyes narrow. "Richard." He snaps his fingers. "You're off the island." He straightens and claps Lawrence on the shoulder. "I won't tolerate poor sportsmanship. Bring in the alternate."
"Oh come on," Richard says. "It's not fair."
Bad idea, Mel thinks. Everything on the show is ultimately at Maverick's discretion. He once gave a million dollars to someone who refused to leave a teammate behind during a rock climbing challenge.
Snapping his fingers, Maverick gestures to the producers. "Bring the goggles." With a flurry of activity, the producers search their backpacks until one of them pulls out a pair of white goggles.
"Here!"
Maverick takes the contraption and hands it to Mel. "We have stimulated the level of Lawrence's vision. Go ahead, put it on."
Reluctantly, Mel fastens them and her head instantly spins with vertigo. "Whoa." The glasses give her binocular tunnel vision - two small pinholes. Around the sides of the glasses, small mirrors reflect the light. Taking the pair off, she hands them to Frank.
"Should you wish to receive one of Lawrence's accommodations, you may don the goggles and have the same advantages," Maverick say with a hardness in his voice. "Or we will provide a boot to offer Abbot's."
"Or a splint," one of the producers chimes in and gestures to her foot. "We could splint it."
"I don't recommend longterm use of an unnecessary orthopedic constraint," Mel says automatically, kicking into doctor mode. Then she realizes her mistake and closes her mouth.
Maverick winks at her. "We'll keep that in mind Miss King."
Mel doesn't think any of the other cast mates caught it so thankfully Maverick releases them to explore the beach. Richard is dragged away, eliminated instantly. As he leaves, Mel takes stock of her tribe: a formidable group of first responders. Great, Mel thinks. Getting to the ten million dollar prize will be harder than she'd thought.
“We’re going to look fabulous,” Garcia says as she surveys the campsite with her hands on her hips.
“What do you mean?” the white-blonde asks.
Garcia points to all the extra lights for Lawrence. “We’re going to be lit like a Hollywood movie. Have you seen some of the footage from last year? They looked like cave dwellers.”
“They were cave dwellers,” Frank reminds her. Last season took place in a rocky cove in Tunisia.
Already Mel feels out of place as everyone introduced themselves. Garcia is a helicopter pilot. Robby a Chief Fireman. Mateo an EMT. Even the rest of the tribe, like Lawrence, have impressive careers in nonprofits and disaster relief. Even the replacement for Richard is a biglaw attorney fighting for emergency political asylum cases.
“I’m a nurse,” Mel says as she re-introduces herself formally to the camera. Whitaker, the weasel-boy, watches her. Maverick never casts two of the same profession. She’d simply hoped he wouldn't pick a RN. She’d thought lying about her career might make her seem like less of a target, but now it seems so utterly ridiculous in a tribe full of accomplished people.
“Did you see Parker Ellis on the way over?” Garcia asks excitedly. “Do you think she’ll sign something for me?”
“Who?” Frank asks.
“Olympic skier. She won three golds at Sochi. I think she’s Mountain Rescue now.”
“Great, a professional athlete,” Frank says. “Just what we need on the opposing tribe.”
“Good thing there’s no snow in Fiji,” Robby quips. “Or we’d be toast.”
Confession cam: Maverick tosses his golden-blonde shoulder length hair and preens to camera. "Oh yes, Dr. King? She can have the lifeguard that wants to bang her. That's her accommodation." He made a switching motion with his fingers. "I swapped her to this tribe. More fair. One ally built right in."
🌸
During the first day on the island Mel realizes she’ll be the first voted off. Everyone breaks into groups and starts working on various chores around the campsite. Robby uses his luxury item, a hatchet, to cut down bamboo for the shelter. Others go to the watering hole. Frank and Garcia work on a fire. Mel sits alone on the shoreline.
Everyone twists around her. Working and busy, they say when she tries to speak with them. Each person seems to have a buddy or a pack. Mateo has brought an iron pot and tries figuring out a way to cook the rice with weasel boy.
At the end of the day as dusk settled, Mel decides nothing substantial has been accomplished: Robby has cut the bamboo in a neat pile but hadn’t built anything. Only one water jug is full. No fire glimmers in the hearth. Only Mateo has done something meaningful: grinding the rice into a powder and mixing it with water to make a gruel.
Mel’s going to be voted out anyway. She’s an R4, a senior resident. She needs to start acting like one.
The next morning as the sun rose, Mel bangs on Mateo’s pot with a stick. “Get up. It’s time to work,” she says. “We’re all focusing on the shelter today.”
“What about the water?” someone asks.
“When it’s empty someone can go fill it,” Mel says. They stare at her. They remind her of the summer interns who circled the hospital like headless chickens. “Everyone works on the shelter until it’s finished and then everyone works on getting the fire going.”
“But I want to sleep in,” Lawrence says. “Isn’t that the point of not having a job while on this show?”
“Do you want to sleep in the rain?” Mel asks. They’d been lucky not to get showers the night before.
Lawrence stills. “No,” he admits.
“Robby, what do you need?” Mel asks.
“We’ve got enough bamboo but we need something to thatch the roof.”
“Great,” Mel says. “Let’s get going.”
🌸
By the end of the second day Mel knows she’s still going home but at least she’ll do so dry. They’ve built a bamboo platform for sleeping with a thick thatched roof. Tomorrow they’ll figure out the fire. As they all circle what would soon become the hearth, Mateo leans in as he scoops her gruel into a broken coconut.
“Nice work,” he whispers, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear.
Confession cam: “Nurse lady’s got us all moving in the right direction,” Robby says. “Can’t say I blame her for snapping at the young ones. They’re just standing around yapping about alliances when they should be getting things done.”
Confession cam: “Mel’s a nice girl,” Frank says. His expression is hard and he furrows his brow. “Can’t say I’m going to enjoy voting her off but that’s what the group decided.”
Confession cam: Brenda laughs as she cracks open a coconut and drinks from it. “You know I’m rethinking this whole power-five alliance.” She shakes her head. “Some of these kids are going to wilt under the pressure. I don’t think Mel’s one of them.”
🌸
On day three mouse-man Dennis gets a fire going and Mateo cooks a celebratory meal of rice with his iron pot.
What a smart luxury item, Mel thinks. Her deck of cards seems so pathetic in comparison. Plus, no one has time to play with all the staggering amount of chores to get their campsite up and running. But she really needs the ten million dollars and she knows she’ll have to start strategizing within her own tribe eventually.
“Frank?” she says. Her voice sounds so small to her own ears and she reminds herself that she’d once saved the life of a woman half-flayed open from a car accident to give her some self-confidence. “Will you braid my hair? You said you would.”
Frank glances up at her. “Sure,” he says.
They walk down to the shoreline and a cameraman follows them. Mel undoes her messy bun.
“I washed it in the ocean this morning but I’m sure it’s a mess.”
“I’ll make do,” Frank says as he parts her hair down the middle. “Probably no worse than my toddler.”
“Is that why you’re doing this? For your family?”
Frank is quiet for a long time and Mel wonders if she’d overstepped. Most contestants want to talk about how they’ll spend the money. Before the filming started a skinny producer told her to talk about it so it would make her seem more human and relatable to the audience.
“Yes,” he says after a long moment.
His fingers scratch her scalp as he work and Mel has to suppress the urge to shudder in delight.
“You know you remind me of my wife,” he says.
“Really?” Mel brightens. There must be something he likes about her after all. Friendship demands some kind of common ground.
“She’s very bossy like you,” he says. His voice is muffled from the hair tie in his mouth. “She’s a surgeon, not a nurse.”
Busted. As she watches the waves Mel realizes she had nothing left to lose. “What a coincidence. Can you keep a secret?”
He laughs. “Not much of one to keep but sure.”
“R4. Emergency Medicine.”
“Ah,” he says. He’s midway down her scalp. “I’m sure you’re constantly harassed with medical questions.”
“It’s not that,” Mel says. She didn’t know how to articulate it. It’s not like first responders have a set hierarchy but some people think her being a doctor makes her a leader automatically. It's just part of the job.
Frank lets out a breath as he finishes the braid. “I know what you mean.”
Confession cam: Frank scratches his calf as he watches the waves. “I don’t— I don’t know what to make of Mel to be honest.”
Confession cam: “Smart girl,” Garcia croons. “Get the guy. Smart girl, go get him.”
Confession cam: “I think Frank and I can be friends,” Mel says to the camera. Her smile lights up the screen. “I need at least one friend to have half a chance at staying.”
🌸
As the tribes march to the first challenge Mel glimpses Yakavi as they hike. Their posture is bent. Abbot is pale. The tribe doesn’t speak as they snake to the podium single file. Water clings to their clothing. Mel imagines the peaks of their mountain campsite: fog curling around the rocks each morning. Rainfall too. Perhaps they weren’t as lucky as Mataka with a clear first night.
Frank notices it too.
Maverick explains the challenge. “You may be thinking dear castaways that all that matters out here is brute strength.” He opens his palm in a sweeping motion towards Robby. “Who can chop the most bamboo?” Then he focuses his attention on a tall Asian man on the opposing tribe. “Who can clear the most rock?” The man straightens. “But what you’ll soon discover is that strength alone won’t sustain a tribe. It’s strategy that wins the prize.”
He unveils a giant puzzle.
Mel trembles with excitement. She loves puzzles.
The Mataka tribe sails through the challenge. Robby climbs and cuts down the pieces with his hatchet. Frank and Mel work side by side assembling the pieces. Every time he grabs a piece Mel can see where it needs to go in her mind’s eye. As they work in tandem, it reminds Mel of a surgery: the precision, clear communication, direct and focused work.
They win easily.
Confession cam: “That’s why she didn’t want everyone knowing she’s a doctor,” Frank says. “She’s probably got more brainpower than all of us combined.”
🌸
After their first victory Mel heads back to camp jubilant. The win means they’ll avoid voting someone off the island at tribal council and she’s three days closer to winning the jackpot.
🌸
But the next morning, Mel still doesn’t have a pack. Frank braids her hair but everyone else is focused on the campsite. There’s no time to play cards.
Confession cam: “I wouldn’t mind breaking up the power-5,” Robby says. “I think there are smarter kids out here than Lawrence and Brenda.”
Confession cam: “I think everyone’s circling Mel,” Lawrence says. “Her and Frank are the puzzle masters. Robby’s got the brawn. I need to re-do this alliance quickly before the others suspect.”
Confession cam: “My tribe’s full of fucking morons,” Garcia says.