Chapter Text
Shane Hollander stood gripping his suitcase, in denial that he was really in Fiji. This was possibly the stupidest thing he had ever agreed to. Yes, he had bruised his ribs in a way that may benefit from more rest than he usually got during the off-season. Yes, he wanted to distract from the nonstop gay rumors that had been swirling online, no matter what his agent did to try to smother the flames. Yes, there was a small part of him that even thought what if - what if he did find love on Love Island?
But standing in Fiji, the reality sunk in. He was not going to find love on a dumb reality TV show that his mother watched to “numb her brain.” He was going to be miserable, and his absence would traumatize his sweet cat Pork Belly, and Chexy and the team were going to give him absolute shit when it was all over. They had already promised they wouldn't miss a single episode - which was more of a threat really.
Already, Shane was damp and sweaty. He couldn’t tell if it was from the high humidity or the stress finally hitting with full force. His mom would never massage Pork the way he needed for his sphynx skin, and his dad would give him too many treats. Shane didn’t want to bodyshame Pork, but the vet had said he needed to lose some pounds to live a long, happy life. And Shane needed Pork to live a long, happy life.
And then there was his hockey. It had been a disappointing end to the season. He’d love to pretend the online chatter hadn’t impacted his game, but it had gotten into his head like smoke, slow and suffocating. With every blink of his eyes, there was another tweet he couldn’t stop himself from looking at or interview questions irritating reporters wouldn’t stop asking, playing in his head on repeat.
dude has only stepped out with one girl the whole time he’s been famous? and it turned out it was just his cousin visiting?! lmao gay for SURE
And, What do you say to the rumors online, care to confirm or deny? Fans are desperate to know!
Yes. Yes, Shane did care.
He wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for any of it. True, he hadn’t had many girlfriends. None, technically, if he was going off strict definitions. And Shane definitely didn’t like hooking up the way his teammates seemed to. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Shane wasn’t like his teammates in other ways either. He had more pressure on his shoulders than they did, the perfect diversity ambassador, bland, nonoffensive, striking the right balance of belonging everywhere and nowhere. He was more dedicated to the game, watching tapes back obsessively while everyone else seemed able to call it a night. He was ridiculously picky about the fabric of his undershirts and needed certain brands of socks so his skin wouldn't crawl for god’s sake - of course he was going to be picky about whose tongue was in his mouth.
It was true that Shane had considered…experimenting…recently. It wasn’t like he could talk about it with anyone. Couldn’t ask Chexy, hey, do you ever stare at guys and think they’re kinda…beautiful? Or, what is the appropriate amount of time you can look at another dude in the gym before it crosses from admiration to…gay?
So he had thought about it. Driving somewhere far, far away. Finding some dark bar. Locating some guy, any guy, and just…seeing.
But of course, he was Shane Hollander. If the internet was on fire because of his years-long lack of a girlfriend, he could only imagine what would happen if some random hookup decided to blab.
So here he was. His mom said the show was “fun.” That it would be good for his sometimes too-good boy image, roughen him up a bit. Show his humanity. He had winced when she said that, though he tried not to show it. He knew what she meant. He always knew what people meant, when they told him to loosen up, or just relax. As if it was that easy. As if he didn’t also hate feeling like a robot that was constantly one beat off script. He tried to make it easier for others, for himself. Played the part. Being gay, possibly being gay, was not part of the part.
His mom had asked. After a particularly bad call with the agent, where Shane got a bit too heated and raised his voice, asked if she wouldn’t mind not sending him each text that implied he sucked cock? His mom had just asked. Simple, eyes open, watching him. Are you, Shane? He hadn’t been able to look at her. Maybe if it was his dad who had asked - their relationship slightly less nuanced. Simpler. But it was Yuna Hollander. His role model. Her model son. So he said nothing. He stared at the carpet until she cleared her throat and said his agent had sent over an interesting opportunity he could consider, if he wanted. And that she would stop forwarding the tweets for comment.
If Shane was lucky, his ribs would recover while at least one woman kissed him on camera, the show broadcasting into endless households, and everyone would leave him the fuck alone. It was six weeks of filming, at most, if he didn’t get eliminated immediately.
How bad could it be?
Ariana swept into the hotel lobby, Shane stumbling to his feet as she approached.
“Shane! It’s so lovely to meet you! I wanted to swing by in person to say hello. We’re so excited to do a celebrity edition of Love Island. I think it’s gonna be great.”
Shane gave her a tight smile, nodding.
“Anyway, I know you have your intro to record so I’ll leave you to the crew. You’re in good hands.” She squeezed his shoulder once. “Car’s ready out front.”
Her head tilted and her voice dropped a bit, softening.
“And Shane? I think you’re going to have a good time. Really. It means a lot to have you here.”
Shane’s smile widened by a millimeter. “Thanks. I hope so.”
Then her show smile was back and she was striding away from him with a wave, leaving Shane to the cameras.
The intro video could have been worse. Shane was so media-trained, he could’ve done half of this in his sleep. The background section was a breeze, him sitting wide-legged on a stool in some freakishly neon room, acting like the lights weren’t burning his eyes out. He didn't bother interrogating why he was in his swim trunks, topless, and swinging hockey skates over his shoulder that weren't even his correct size. He simply hit his beats:
Hi. I’m Shane Hollander. If you know hockey, you know me. If you don’t…well…get ready to. Cut to him putting on a lopsided grin, not too cocky, but confident enough. Relaxed. A normal guy.
The motivation part got a bit tricker, but was manageable:
I’m here to find love, like everyone else, I hope. There’s been a lot of rumors going around, and it is true… an attempt at a cheeky smile…I don’t have a lot of free time to date! Hockey will always be my number one love, but I hope to find someone to share that love with.
Then lots of clips of him being ‘hot,’ which would’ve been unbearable if his past campaigns hadn’t already trained the embarrassment out of him. He knew how to flex by this point, how to angle his chest to catch the light. How to relax his jaw and raise his eyebrows just slightly, so he looked both bored and intrigued. He knew how to stretch his arms over his head and look off into the distance, lips parting. He knew to laugh with a wide smile that showed off his white teeth when they dumped Gatorade over his head, shaking his hair out in what would be edited into slow-motion when the episode aired, camera zooming in on beads of liquid dripping down his abs. Shane knew how to package himself.
What he couldn’t nail, no matter how many takes, was what he was looking for.
Yeah, I’d love to meet um, just…a nice girl…really.
My last relationship? Oh, that, yeah, it was a while ago. Or, not a while while, just. Do you factcheck this? Because I don’t know the exact year, if that’s important.
Ah, physically? I like…sure, yeah, I mean. I guess I go for what’s…inside a woman? No, sorry, don’t use that, give me a moment.
Eventually, they got the briefest of clips of Shane saying he’d love to meet someone who knew a bit about hockey and who had a big heart. Vomit-inducing.
He could barely sleep that night, his eyes memorizing the ceiling of his hotel room. He had placed his last calls out to family and friends earlier that morning before his phone was confiscated. There would be no more check-ins from his mom, grounding him through his rough media performance in her logical and reassuring way. No more warm, short sentences from his dad, saying he missed him, saying he was proud. No updates from Chexy about the latest hockey news or inappropriate Russian words he'd try to trick Shane into saying. And absolutely no adorable pictures of Pork in cute sweaters to get Shane through the six-week separation. He exhaled, closing his eyes and honing in on the tightness in his chest.
I do not know the future. He exhaled. The future can be what I make it. Inhale. I am manifesting positive things for me. Exhale. I am kissing a beautiful woman. Women even.
Shane sat up, chest seizing tighter. This was going to be a disaster.
Ariana stood in front of the camera, the glam team having done a fantastic job. Her hair swayed down one shoulder, mermaid-like, her silver dress sparkling in the afternoon sun. Shane shifted off-camera, trying his hardest not to eye up his fellow contestants more than he already had. He hadn’t recognized anyone. Why was he always out of the loop when it came to celebrities, general human knowledge, the common chitchat everyone else seemed to get memos about?
“Welcome to this season of Love Island!” Ariana beamed, arms spread wide. “And this year, we’re changing things up a bit.” She winked at the camera.
“We’ll have our usual selection of delectable contestants, but for the first time ever, we’re also having…celebrities! That’s right, you will be recognizing more than a few of these faces. And since we didn’t want anyone getting starstuck, our contestants are meeting for the very first time…right…now.”
The camera panned over to the five contestants standing in a line. Shane tried to imagine how they would edit this. He had binged as many seasons as he could squeeze in between agreeing to appear and landing in Fiji, but he still felt underprepared. He wanted to know every season, every reference, every angle of how to play. Because he was still playing, even though this wasn’t a rink. It was still a sport. There were still winners. And there were definitely losers.
“Now, to keep this fair, I’m going to have our handsome men draw straws to see who gets to choose first. No celebrity advantage, I promise!”
Shane reached forward, his hand skimming the guy next to him. It was another Asian dude, dressed in a very tiny, very leopard print speedo. His face had drawn-on whiskers for some reason. What the fuck had Shane gotten into.
Thankfully, the other men seemed more like typical guys, though all of their swim trunks seemed to be cropped rather short. Shane had packed his usual baggy pair that he'd worn for years now, given how rarely he went swimming, not realizing that tight and tiny seemed to be more in fashion now. His eyes skimmed the circle of muscular thighs and he swallowed, forcing his eyes down to the artifical turf lawn.
Ariana cued the men to open their hands and clapped happily.
“Well, look at that! Javi, our humble personal trainer, you will have the first pick. Come stand here. Followed by…Zac, I loved your latest comedy special, you’ll be next. Follow Javi over there. Connie you’re next, currently a waiter but hey- maybe this will be your big break! Leo, you wild Youtuber, follow Connie please, and sweet Shane, hockey icon, you are last but not least!”
Shane nodded, trailing to the end of the line. His stomach was clenching. He hated coming in last, even when it was a matter of luck.
“Now let’s bring out the ladies!” Ariana grinned again. Shane figured this was when some pop music would start blasting post-production, but right now, it was awkwardly silent as five women filed out to line up next to Ariana.
Shane straightened. Rose Landry was in line. Rose Landry. His lips twitched up and he looked down at his sandals before she could notice, trying to keep his cool despite the smile spreading on his face. Maybe this hadn’t been such a terrible idea.
The first couplings went by in a blur. Javi chose Lexi I., who had apparently been on The Bachelor. Zac chose Hannah, who worked as a nurse. Connie picked Shawna, who did medical sales. Then Leo tried to steal Lexi I., but she chose to stay with Javi. Leo didn’t seem bothered in the least, despite Shane flushing with secondhand embarrassment on his behalf.
Ariana tsked. “Sorry about that, Leo. We still have two celebrities up here - Cici is a huge beauty influencer and Rose Landry has been on a movie-making streak lately. I’m shocked by you boys - too intimidated? I hope we're not too insecure to handle a successful woman." She cocked an eyebrow as the women let out some cheers. "Okay, Shane, your turn.”
Shane nodded, stepping forward. “Um, I would be honored to choose Rose Landry.”
Ariana smiled at him and Shane dipped his head, feeling he had done right.
“And why Rose, Shane?”
“Well, I love her movies. She’s incredibly talented.”
He looked up. Ariana’s eyebrows were slightly raised.
“And, yes, also gorgeous. Of course.” He choked out a laugh. Ariana smiled, nodding her head.
“Wise man, Hollander. Rose, you are free to join your new man!”
Rose walked to his side with an endearingly goofy smile. She intertwined her arm with Shane’s, squeezing his hand once.
“Thanks for choosing me.”
Shane grinned. “Easiest choice ever.”
“Now, Cici. These boys are clearly blind, but don’t worry, you won’t be single for long. Leo is still available. Or…you can steal any of the men here before you.”
Ariana gestured along the line of couples. Shane’s grip tightened on Rose, willing Cici not to pick him. Rose looked at him, putting on an exaggerated panicked face that almost made Shane laugh out loud.
Cici threw her long hair over her shoulders, placing her hands on her hips.
“You know, while I’m offended Leo didn’t choose me first, I have to admit, I think his Land Leopard videos are fucking hilarious. So Leo, let's see if you can make me purr.”
Leo laughed as he bent forward, clapping, and then waved her over. She flounced to his side and he let out a growl before dipping her alarmingly close to Shane’s personal space, their lips meeting in an audible wet smack.
“All right, we’re not wasting any time at all!” Ariana laughed, her face slightly shocked as she turned back to the camera. “Let’s celebrate our new couples, shall we!”
Rose smiled up at Shane, giving him another squeeze, and he tore his face away from Leo and Cici, hoping his face didn’t look too judgemental.
She leaned in closer, whispering. “Way too much tongue. Maybe that’s why they call him the Land Leopard. He’s practically grooming her whole face.”
Shane snorted, trying to hide his smile with cameras so close. “Hope he doesn’t get a hairball.”
Then the couple cam arrived in front of them, and they cut their conversation short. Rose slipped her arm around his waist, drawing in her stomach a bit. Shane squared his shoulders, plastering a wide smile to his face. He could already see what they would look like when the episode premiered: sun making them golden, Rose nestled beneath Shane’s broad shoulders, happily matching by accident in Rose’s baby blue bikini and Shane’s blue trunks, Rose and Shane scripting cutely in the lower corner of the screen. They’d look happy, and beautiful, and good.
The camera moved away. Shane let his face relax, smile falling. He cleared his throat, turning to Rose.
“Shall I…pull you for a chat?”
Rose blinked at him. “Um, sure?”
Shane tilted his head. “Rose Landry. Have you watched this show?”
She grimaced, hiding her face into his chest for a moment.
“Shh! Okay, so I’ve only seen a few episodes? And I was texting through half of them. But being on here is such good exposure for my movie coming out, my agent said I should just say yes!" She made another face. "Am I messing up already?”
Shane smiled, shaking his head. “No. I’ll teach you everything I know.”
They walked side-by-side into the villa, her kind eyes watching him as he said things about firepits and recoupling and something called Soul Ties. Their hands swung together as they walked. Rose Landry, in person. With him. Shane blinked, trying not to fixate on the circular cameras spinning from every corner of the villa, then found himself smiling a bit wider. If he had to be under a microscope, it couldn’t get much better than with Rose Landry at his side. Let them all talk about that.
Voiceover:
TOMORROW NIGHT…There’s already trouble in paradise. Get ready…for two…new…BOMBSHELLS!!! They’re Russian…they’re bisexual…and they’re going to step on evvverybody’s toes!
(sound of a whip cracking; fade to black.)