MYLA ISLAND: Blankface, one of the most anticipated bands to play the Solstice Festival, the $10,000-a-ticket music festival where elite Gen-Z-ers could hobnob with celebs, influencers, and models, has canceled their performance. Timothy Cornish, Blankface lead singer and front man, could not be reached for comment, but he tweeted the following statement: “It’s to my great disappointment that Blankface will not be able to perform in Myla this weekend. We were really looking forward to it, but we’ve assessed that the infrastructure isn’t up to par, and we want everyone to have the best experience possible. Stay safe, everyone.”
Reports say that over 6,000 concertgoers have descended on Myla Island this weekend for the concert despite news of rough seas and storms in the area. Internet access and cell phone connectivity is limited to none—though it’s unclear why, exactly—so reports on the conditions are scarce, but aerial footage shows what seems to be “a football-field-size gravel pit” of a concert area, “Gen Z swampland,” and then “about sixty yachts” on the water. News of strange circling shapes in the water is concerning as well—a jellyfish bloom has affected the Myla shores in the last month, but these shapes seem a little … different from jellyfish. We’re thinking a really big shark. With … a lot of eyes?
(This is a developing story.)
Comments:
@H1990K
The entire festival was a scam. Of course Blankface pulled out.
@BMittenBoy
Smart move, Blankface! You wouldn’t get ANY infrastructure … not even toilets!
@SSSKJ12
Shame, Zack Frazier. SHAME!
@HaydenATL
Anyone there at the festival? Trying to find out if anyone’s seen a friend of mine. Adrianna. Is there seriously NO cell service?
8
STEVE’S FLASHLIGHT MADE A WAVY BEAM down a sandy path toward the water. As I slapped at the bugs—they thought my skin was made of ice cream, even with loads of bug spray—Elena sidled up next to me. “I was really worried,” she scolded. “Running off with no cell service? Not cool.”
I felt a flare of anger. Was she really trying to make me feel guilty when she drove me away? “I just wanted to check things out. And I figured you were busy with Steve.”
I tried not to make Steve’s name sound like a synonym for toxic waste, but Elena caught my disdain anyway. “I’m sorry about that, Adri. Really and truly. I meant to tell you before we came, but…” Elena pushed a low-hanging branch out of our way. In the distance, I could see a break in the forest and what looked like the edge of a cliff. “Like I said, he came to me sobbing. I’ve never seen him cry before. And it was over me!”
“Wow,” I said sarcastically. “Very heartrending.”
Elena sighed. “Are you angry?”
I kicked up some sand—I no longer cared that my shoes were totally ruined. “No,” I mumbled. “Whatever.”
I glared at Steve, who was loping up ahead. I remembered how excited Elena had been when they met—and how excited I’d been for her. Elena was funny. Smart. Creative. Wry. Introspective. She deserved a great boyfriend. And then, when I’d seen Steve flirting with that girl in the diner, my heart had broken for her. But as I’d watched Steve shoveling in his omelet and home fries, his whole personality had seemed different. He was blunter. Brasher. Not the polite, sweet, caring guy he portrayed to Elena. It was all an act, I realized. He was being for Elena what she wanted to see. But that wasn’t who he really was. Of course he’d come to her crying—he knew she’d melt. But had he really been sad?
We pushed past the last set of trees and came to a rocky edge. About ten feet below us, a frothy sea swirled. Beyond the shore, a dozen enormous boats bobbed, each lit by romantic, twinkling lights. I drew in a breath, startled. So there were yachts here.
I gazed in wonderment. They looked like floating castles: smaller than cruise ships, but somehow even more luxurious. I squinted hard, wondering if I could make out celebrities on board, but the light was too dim, and the distances to them were too great. Still.
“Come on.” Steve started down at the natural rock stairway to the shore. I wasn’t a fan of descending a slippery rock wall at dusk, but Elena was already climbing down, and I didn’t want to get separated. The rocks were slick, but there were handholds by each step. At the bottom, I looked up at the rock face, wondering if this was where Eric, the guy I’d met outside the convenience shop, had gone climbing today. It was certainly beautiful here. He was right—this island was special.
An inflatable motorized raft roared up to us, and a man in a white sailor outfit ushered us aboard. Elena, Steve, and I climbed on. “Sit over here, Adri,” Elena said, patting a spot next to her. But I mumbled an excuse about not wanting to get splashed, opting for one of the seats in the middle. Elena was making an effort, but I couldn’t quite forgive her yet.
The motorboat wove around anchored yachts, each one larger and grander than the last. I peered up at them, awestruck … and then a little disgusted. They were almost too opulent. I couldn’t help but think about all of those stranded people on the concert grounds. What would happen to them tonight?
Finally, we approached a boat that was so modern, so sleek, and so huge, it probably could be a country all its own. I gaped as the boat jetted up to it and was tethered to the side. There were four levels of decks and glass. The boat’s name, Lady Luck, was painted along the hull in letters at least six feet tall. Through a window, I could see a bar, a spiral staircase, a huge table seemingly set for twenty, and paintings on the walls. I’d never seen a house this grand, not even Elena’s.
She met my eyes and grinned excitedly. Her smile said, Told ya it would be amazing! The smile I returned was uneasy. This boat was great and all, but I was only here to keep her safe.
A few men stood at the pool’s edge, watching us arrive. One of them was Zack Frazier; he was dressed in a beige jacket, jeans, and sunglasses. The other guy was heavier, had a dark beard, and carried a martini glass in his hand.
“Welcome!” Zack called out as we docked.
“Ahoy!” the second guy bellowed.
The boat driver helped us off the raft. It took me a moment to get my sea legs, but I stumbled up a flight of stairs to an upper deck. Once there, I took in a huge, sparkling pool with little bubbling hot tubs in alcoves. Multicolored tile work glittered like diamonds. A beautiful woman in a bikini, seemingly straight out of the Solstice promotional video, lay on one of the chaises listening to something through a pair of headphones. Two other bikini-clad girls danced together to music a DJ was playing near a rock wall planted with an array of succulents. On the other side of the pool, a long table held a spread of every type of food imaginable: lobster, crab cakes, a sizzling pile of chicken wings, salads, fruit, desserts, and even the sushi Elena was desperately craving. Who was all that for? Besides the girls, the yacht appeared empty.
Elena shivered with glee. “This is like something out of a James Bond movie. I’m like, pinch me!”
“It’s … something,” I said quietly, eyeing the mounds of sushi.
“Welcome, ladies.” Zack kissed Elena on the cheeks, and then, to my surprise, kissed me, too. I awkwardly moved away, a little skeeved out by his intimacy. “I’d like to introduce you to my very good friend, and the owner of this yacht, Mr. James Marx.”
The bearded guy propped his sunglasses on his head and shook our hands, looking straight into our eyes.
“Hello,” I said shakily, realizing I recognized him. Was this Captain Marx, aka one of the biggest music producers on the planet? He’d been on tons of singing competition shows. He was best friends with Jay-Z. He’d discovered Lavender, too. So did that mean if he was here, her performance was still on?
Butterflies swarmed my stomach. I was ready to ask him gushing questions about Lavender … but then I noticed the cavalier expressions on Steve’s and even Elena’s faces. Maybe I should play it cool. “Nice to meet you,” I added.
“Welcome to my yacht.” Marx had a booming, everyon
e-stop-talking-and-pay-attention-to-me sort of voice. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Any friend of Zack’s is a friend of mine. Drinks, everyone?”
“Yes, please!” Elena piped up. “And maybe some of that food over there?”
“Absolutely. Be my guest.”
Elena filled her plate, and, reluctantly, I did, too. Everything was beyond delicious, and I ate ravenously. Next, we moved to the chaises set up around a marble firepit. The bikini-clad girls were still dancing, paying no attention to us; I wondered if Marx had hired them just for decoration. I noticed Steve sneaking them flirty glances. My heart lifted when Elena followed his gaze and frowned. Steve’s attention snapped back to her. He took her hand, leaned into Elena lovingly. I gritted my teeth.
A waiter in a Hawaiian shirt passed around martinis, and I took a glass, thinking it would be rude to decline. I set it on the table, watching as some of the liquid sloshed over the side. Then I noticed that Marx was looking at me. My skin began to prickle. “Oh,” I said quickly, mopping up the spilled martini. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I was looking at you because I know who you are.”
“Me?” I let out an incredulous laugh. “Uh, I don’t think so!”
“You’re the person who’s been asking questions about the festival all day.” His tone was playful, but something about the statement seemed accusatory. “Checking up on security, food, medical staff…”
Steve looked startled. “That’s where you were today?”
I felt my shoulders draw in, but I made an effort not to wilt under their intense gazes. “Shouldn’t we have the right to ask questions?” I said calmly. “And, well, the festival does seem a little disorganized.” I glanced at Zack. “With all due respect.”
Zack waved his hand. “It’s fine. A few things came in later than we expected, but by morning, everything will be ready. Almost all of the geodesic domes have been built, and they’re very comfortable. And catering should show up tomorrow.”
Elena made a face. “I don’t want to sleep in a geodesic dome.”
Steve pulled her close. “You won’t have to, baby.”
Then Zack added, “And as for security, don’t worry. Everyone will be safe. Today was a rough start, but it’s truly going to be an event worth waiting for. You’ll see.”
“You have to trust Mr. Frazier,” Marx added, clapping a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “He is a master. He leaves no stone unturned.”
“And what about all those people back at the festival site right now?” I asked. “Are they okay? Do they have shelter?”
Steve looked at me with surprise. “Are you sure you should care about them, Adri? Elena said some of the girls were rude to you.”
“I still want them to be safe,” I said. “Especially if it rains. People are people.”
“It’s all good,” Zack said. “Everyone’s in domes or tents. Not ideal, but this is our first go-round—and like I said, it’ll all be worked out by tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. Maybe they were right—it would all come together. Despite myself, I began to relax. I even reached for my drink and sipped, staring out at the other yachts twinkling on the water. They were filled with celebrities, or influencers, and wealthy moguls—and they hadn’t bailed yet. They must have confidence in Zack, too.
I looked up, realizing something. “Do you have Wi-Fi on this boat, Captain Marx?”
“Call me James,” Marx said, and then nodded, gesturing to the doors that led to the yacht’s interior. “It’s spotty—the closer you get to the router, the better chance you’ll have of picking up a signal. Go right ahead. The password is Lady Luck, all one word, ninety-five.”
I thanked him and excused myself. Through a set of glass doors was a sleek seating area. A grand piano stood in one corner, and a giant head of an elephant—no joke—hung in the other. I recoiled at the thing, horrified that someone had killed and mounted something so beautiful. I took a few steps away from it, almost feeling like it was casting a negative energy into the room.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone. I only had 9 percent battery remaining, but a window popped up listing that a Wi-Fi connection was available. I clicked on it, then typed in the password Marx had given me. His signal must have been stronger than the one at the convenience store, because texts started to flood in immediately. There were so many from my parents that I couldn’t read all of them, but they grew increasingly fraught as the day wore on. Guilt tugged at me. Strict and irrational my parents might be, but I didn’t want to worry them. Hayden had texted, too, along with a few other concerned friends. Even my sister had texted me—definitely a first.
I’m okay, I wrote back again, even though I’d alerted them earlier, too. No cell service, but all is safe. Be home in a few days.
I sent them off with a bloop. Then I noticed that Hayden had replied earlier to the text I’d sent him. Call me when you can! he wrote.
I hastily dialed. Hayden picked up on the first ring. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” he cried. “I’ve been trolling message boards all day, asking festivalgoers if they’ve seen you!”
“Wait, really?” I felt flattered that he cared enough. Then I realized that we lived in an age where a whole day of no cell service was call for alarm. “Everyone’s fine. Things were hot and confusing when we got to the site, but it’s all been worked out now.” I explained I was on a yacht—a real yacht! And that the other festivalgoers had shelter, food, the works.
Hayden was quiet. “I guess those reports I saw were wrong.”
“Why?” I asked, feeling a prickle of concern.
“No—it’s fine. There was a broadcast saying that the festival organizers left everyone high and dry tonight, but again, barely any news is coming out of Myla. It’s probably a rumor.”
“Probably,” I said, feeling shaky. Zack and Marx wouldn’t lie to us, would they?
Hayden said something I couldn’t make out. “You’re breaking up!” I called, pressing the phone closer to my ear. “What’s that?” But then the call went dead. I stared despondently at my phone. The Wi-Fi icon disappeared. I guess the service was spotty after all.
Wind pressed up against the windows, and all at once I felt the barometric pressure drop. The dancing models rushed inside, squealing, just as the first raindrops started to fall. I looked at my phone again. Searching, the Wi-Fi bar read. I wished I’d had a few more minutes to talk to Hayden. I knew he’d be on my side about all of this—Elena, Steve, the terrible conditions here, my investigating. But even when I turned Wi-Fi off and then on again, retyping the password and reconnecting to the router, I kept getting the same message: Cannot Connect to Internet. I settled on videoing a panoramic shot around the ridiculously plushy living area, figuring I’d send it to Hayden when I again found a connection.
The rain was still pelting the deck, but my group was safe under an awning. I peered outside, noticing that Elena was curled up in Steve’s lap. She leaped up when she saw me coming toward them. “James said we could sleep here, Adri,” she said. “Isn’t that awesome?”
“There’s plenty of room.” Marx folded his hands over his ample stomach. “I don’t want to send you back out to shore in this weather.”
I couldn’t help but look at Zack. “Are you sure everyone on land is safe?”
“It’s being handled,” Zack said. “I talked to my crew before coming back to the boat. There should be enough shelter for all of those who reserved lodging.”
I really wanted this to be true. It would mean that there was shelter for us as well, which we’d need tomorrow. At the same time, I got Marx’s point about not heading back in a storm. I looked at Elena again. I couldn’t leave her. I doubted anyone would take me back in this storm, anyway. “Okay,” I said.
“I’m relieved we’re not going back across that water again tonight.” Steve stretched out his legs. “Those rumors I heard about that thing surrounding Myla—it gives me the creeps.”
Zack glanced
at Marx, then rolled his eyes. “Those rumors aren’t true, dude. Don’t be stupid.”
“What rumors?” Elena asked innocently.
Steve turned to her. “You didn’t hear? There’s a local legend that talks about a spirit that lives on the island. The spirit’s been around for years—disrupting the crops, conjuring up storms, and eating the natives.”
“The Mylans,” I corrected him. “And what do you mean eating? Some kind of monster?”
“A big sandworm, they say,” Zack said. “With shark teeth. And a thousand eyes. And two tongues! The locals do a human sacrifice every so often to keep the thing happy. The monster is attracted to glowing objects, so the sacrifice is strapped with phosphorescent items and thrown into its lair.”
I cocked my head. “That sounds a little insensitive. The Mylans seem smarter than to make ritual sacrifices.” I thought about how Plantain Girl’s buddy in the convenience store said the Mylans rode goats to work. And then how Paul thought I was questioning his staff as some sort of judgment against this island and its people.
“No, I’ve heard that rumor, too,” Marx said. “Some of the people around here are quite backward. It’s remarkable.”
Backward? I hated the way they were talking. “None of the Mylans told me about a monster thing that eats people. Or human sacrifices.”
“Of course they didn’t.” Steve looked worried for me. “They’re probably hoping Solstice guests will be the sacrifice.”
My mouth fell open in shock. I thought of the woman in the convenience store who’d given me the Wi-Fi password. Did the Mylans really think that?
But then Marx hooted with laughter. “He’s kidding, Adri! About all of it!”
“The creature isn’t real!” Zack cried.
“You should see your face!” Steve added. “Oh, Adri, it was like you saw a ghost!”
And then everyone started laughing—even Elena. I turned away, angry and defensive and humiliated. I was the butt of a joke to them. The loser.
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