Stuck On An Island

I had dreamed about that girl again. I honestly thought it had stopped. The dreams had become less frequent, but there she was again.

I woke up because apparently, my alarm clock was trying to kill me with nothing but sound. It was so shrill I actually felt like crying.

I lay completely still for a few seconds, staring up at the ceiling, before slowly lifting a hand to feel the mess on top of my head.

Way too curly and tangled. Fuck.

I just knew this was going to be one of those days when I’d have to fight with my hair, and Mom was going to complain about how fucking awful I looked.

I couldn’t go to the hairdresser. That would mean spending my savings, which would mean I wouldn’t have enough left for the newest game coming out next week.

And there were priorities in life.

I closed my eyes again and decided to give up on life for a little while. Unfortunately, my phone alarm started screaming again.

I blindly slapped at my phone until the noise finally stopped. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling again. Monday… Of course it was Monday, as if my life didn’t hate me enough already.

As I sat up, I pushed my hair back, only for it to fall into my eyes again. “Seriously?”

I stared at myself in the mirror across the room. “Why do I even bother?”

There was a knock on the door. “Trym! Mom says you have to get up!”

That was my little brother Lars, and by the way… fucking annoying.

I glanced at the clock. 7:05. “I’m up!”

“Mom says you’re late!”

I could feel my frustration building. “Fuck. Can’t I just take a shit in peace?”

There was a brief silence. “Ehm… In your bedroom?”

I stared at the door. “It was a metaphor, Lars! For fuck’s sake!”

I grabbed a hoodie from the chair and pulled it over my head.

My name? Yeah, it’s Trym. And before you laugh, it’s actually a pretty normal name where I live. A little too normal for my taste. If I could have chosen my own name, I would’ve picked something much cooler... Like Blade, Dante, or maybe Cloud.

Or something truly powerful: Lord Trymington the Third. Or Batman, because then I wouldn’t even need a last name.

But enough about that.

There had actually been rumors at school that I was adopted. That was until I called my mom on speakerphone in the middle of lunch break and yelled,

“Tell them I came out of you!”

Her response? “Trym, I’m at work.”

The entire class nearly died laughing, but after that, no one ever teased me about being adopted again.

I took long strides down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen, where Mom was standing and eating breakfast, clearly in a hurry.

She turned around, and her eyes widened when she saw me.

“Trym, your hair looks absolutely awful!” she sighed. “You really need to get it cut!”

As usual, I completely ignored her. I grabbed an apple from the counter and headed straight for the hallway to put on my shoes. I knew Inge was waiting for me.

But of course, Mom followed me into the hallway. “You’re going to scare all the girls away with hair like that,” she sighed.

“That’s the point!” I shot back.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to rely on Lars for grandchildren, then,” she replied.

I slammed the door behind me.

And now you’re probably wondering who Inge is. What can I say?

He’s everything I’m not, and I’m everything he’s not. We’re complete opposites, and I guess we’re best friends because we grew up together. We have one thing in common: gaming. If we’re not talking about games, our conversations usually go straight to hell.

We were sitting on opposite sides of a desk in the hallway outside our classroom, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Inge was scrolling through his phone when he suddenly looked up at me.

“So… what’s going on with you and June?”

I looked at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You keep avoiding her.”

“I avoid everyone.”

“Not me.”

“You’re different.”

“That was almost touching.” He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “But seriously. She likes you.”

“That’s her problem.”

Inge raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never thought about getting a girlfriend?” He gave me a mischievous look. “Or maybe you’re secretly in love with me?”

I stared at him as if he’d just suggested we voluntarily hand over our gaming PCs.

“No. I’m as straight as they come,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Unfortunately. But think about it: a girlfriend would require time I could be spending gaming. I’m going to live alone forever.”

“You’re hopeless, man,” Inge said.

We fell silent for a moment before he continued. “I signed up for Reality Island, by the way. I hope they pick me.”

I froze. For a second, I genuinely thought I’d heard him wrong.

“You’re too young.”

“Yeah, by one year,” Inge replied enthusiastically, as if that wasn’t a problem at all.

I frowned. “Wait. Isn’t the age limit eighteen?”

“Yep.”

“Then you’re too young.”

“They’ll probably make an exception.”

I stared at him. “Why the hell would they make an exception for you?”

“Because I’m interesting.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“An interesting idiot.”

Reality Island had been all over the media for what felt like forever. A new reality show was being filmed on an island in Greece, and it seemed like absolutely everyone was talking about it.

The concept was simple…

Young people would live alone on the island while cameras filmed them around the clock. There wouldn’t be a single blind spot. Everything they did would be broadcast live through an app.

What could go wrong when you put a bunch of young people on a deserted island and give them cameras instead of adults to keep an eye on them? Apparently, someone had decided to find out.

To me, the whole thing sounded like a suicide mission with sponsors.

I looked at him. “If they pick you, I don’t want you to go.”

Inge kept staring at me, clearly surprised by my reaction. He probably knew I cared about him more than I was willing to admit.

“Trym, you know how much this means to me. I need to find a way out of this boring town, and Reality Island could be my chance,” he said seriously.

Inge had always been the one who wanted out. He wanted to experience things, meet people, travel, do something that actually mattered.

I was the complete opposite. I just wanted things to stay quiet. Gaming. My house. My family. Inge. That was pretty much all I needed.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid if they actually pick you,” I said.

Inge grinned. “You know that’s impossible to promise.”

I sighed. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of.”