DeathXDesign

“Aloha designers. And welcome to Niihau, Hawaii! AKA “Paradise!” This island is the most sparsely inhabited private island in Hawaii. Very few live here or have access.

“This is why the island has come to be known as Forbidden Island. No other visitors will be here while we film this new season of our award-winning show, “Planet Fashion.” Niihau is all ours while we’re here, and each one of you will have a private luxury villa on the beach as your accommodations.”

Riley. The supermodel co-host continued, ”Congratulations on making it to the final 4. You have beat out all your competitors to get here, and Jim and I will be your guides as you navigate this stunning island. Of course, as you all know, there is a million-dollar prize package for the winner of this competition.”

Jim said, “For your next design challenge, you will use the mythology of the island for your inspiration. Local legend has it, that this island was named after a famous ancient Hawaiian hero named Hawaiiloa. Residents here say he discovered these beautiful islands. And now, you’ll use his story as inspiration. Use discovery as the theme of this challenge and design a new type of little black dress. One that hasn’t been “discovered” yet.” Your design needs to titillate!”

Riley hesitates briefly, then continues.

“The winning look will be sold online at the Planet Fashion webstore, where your pieces will ship all over the world! You’ll get a full spread in Cyber Looks magazine, the largest online publication on the planet. Plus, you will receive immunity for the next challenge, and cannot be eliminated.”

“And what better way to design your new little black dress than with a new little black book?” All designers will now receive a brand-new Art Collection sketchbook by designer Moleskine. Please come up to get your books.”

The designers lined up to get their little black books. “There is gorgeous and lush inspiration all over this island, sketch your designs for this challenge as you take in the sights, sounds, and the grounds of “Forbidden” Island. Invent!” “We’ll be back to check on you later designers. Good luck!”

With the breath-taking beach as a backdrop, Jim and Riley walked off down the amazing stretch of tan sand as the sun set.

The next day we were given a $200 budget to “make it vacation” the opposite of “make it work,” by Jim Gunn who looks almost identical to his grandfather, the original host of the show when it first started over 20 years ago. His sharp tortoise shell glasses shined as he passed us our money. I had never seen Hawaiian currency before. Fascinating.

The island’s fabric store had us all in awe of the available selection. Once I finished shopping, I went to the register and clutched my sketchbook. My new Moleskine, which was quickly becoming a prized possession, was knocked out of my hand forcefully.

“Hey, I’m-

“An asshole.” I snapped. Why are you waving your arms around? Don’t you see me standing here?” I said as I picked up my book from the floor.

“I honestly didn’t I’m really sorry.”

“I’m Jazz, and you are?”

“Evoni” I answered.

“Nice name! It’s like Yvonne with an extra E! So, listen, I just spoke to the clerk here. Did you know this island has a weird history of supernatural stuff happening for years?”

“I didn’t” I said flatly. “But I’ll have to look more into that.” I had no intentions on looking up anything this weird goth woman was saying. She was so androgynous, and kind of creepy. Just the type to try and take some silly folklore and run with it. Everything she had on was black, even her lipstick and nail polish. Her eyebrows were dark, highly arched, and extremely thick. But her voice was airy and light, almost like a high-pitched whisper.

“I’ll look into it after this challenge is over,” I said hoping she would be satisfied enough to stop talking to me.

As we returned to our Cabanas, I heard people arguing. Most of the other designers continued to the work room to cut their fabrics. But, I had to get closer to the action. I walked towards the raised voices and peeked around the corner. It was Jim and Riley.

“You always use those big words, trying to be so smart!” You went to such a long way to say “titillate” You know I don’t know what that means!”

“How am I supposed to know you don’t know a word I learned in the third grade? Either way, it’s not my fault I come from a long line of savants and you come from a long line of SERvants!” He laughed hysterically.

“Oooh, I hate you Jim! Can’t wait until I start my new spin-off show. I don’t need a co-host, and the world is about to see that.”

“Is that so? Well good luck reading those “big” words on the teleprompter.” The words he uttered held disdain and dripped with a signature snark that he himself seemed to have branded. Just as the fight was heating up, I pulled out my phone and said softly “Siri, open my camera.” But, a producer came out and pulled Jim and Riley back on set, and I knew that was my cue to start getting ready.

There was a huge projector screen right on the beach, with chairs for the audience and judges around the perimeter. A stage in the shape of an infinity sign was constructed on the waterfront. The beat pulsated, as we all diverted our eyes to the gorgeous stage, and visually stunning surroundings. The moonlight added to the magic. The models stomped around the stage to the beat. We all looked on in awe, as our fashions strutted down that stage. Incredible. I felt such pride. Last year this time, I was almost homeless.

After the show, the judges chose to call us all to the stage.

The most outspoken judge Geena Paltria was ripping my cast mate a new one, “What look were you going for here Patrick?”

“I wasn’t going for a look. I was making a statement!” He answered indignantly. Peering through his glasses.

“Oh yes!”, she snapped. You were making a statement with this look. You know what that statement is? “I’m hideous”

A slim red-haired judge chimed in, “I hate when you critique people like that!” “This is supposed to be constructive!

“What I’m saying is definitely constructive!” said Geena.

Our heads turned back and forth to each of their faces.

A short silence filled the room as though it had been there before. A minute passed, and a loud shriek filled the air, then more screaming. “Ahhhhhhhh!” “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

We all looked up in horror.

A woman’s body flung down quickly, and then stopped. Suspended in air. Just then, as if someone had cut a cord, her heavy corpse crashed to the stage. A collective gasp washed over the crowd, as confused and frightened looks filled the space.

A closer look revealed a measuring tape around the woman’s neck. I stood shocked as I realized. It was Riley, our supermodel cohost.

Her body hung there limp as if hanging from a tree by a noose. The gravity caused her to swing slightly in all directions like a pendulum answering a clarifying question.

We all looked away, disgusted. Stunned and wondering, what the hell just happened? HOW did this happen?

Cutting the silence, a deadpan Jim says, “I know it hurts when someone has to go, but I already told you guys that anyone can go at any time.”

“Yes but go as in go home not die. “The hell is wrong with you?”

Excuse me?

“Nothing.” I muttered softly. In disbelief over the insensitive remarks, and bad timing. I saw some of the other contestants giving Jim the side-eye. And they hadn’t even witnessed the argument earlier. Or did they? An eternity seemed to pass.

“Everyone leave the set now!” A stern sounding overweight man was approaching us with quick heavy steps. His cheeks flushed. He was the security guard on set, Stanley, and had the nerve to take over the investigation of Riley’s death. I thought that was interesting because prior to taping he was telling me about his failed attempts to become a cop. I was sympathetic to his story until he started asking us a series of dumb questions.

So, did you know the victim?

“Uh, I think you know we all worked together on this show."

“Do you know anyone who would have wanted her dead?”

“Uh ok Deputy Dummy, I think I just told you I don’t know the bit- I mean, the lady like that. How would I know if anyone wanted her dead? Now can I please leave and get some food? I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“Fine,” he replied. “ But stay close I might be giving you a polygraph.” He sat up straight and stared in my eyes with a strange expression.

I thought to myself, “What a joke this guy is knowing good and damn well, he doesn’t have a polygraph!” I scoffed. “Ole renta-cop FACE lookin’-ass”. “Ole flashlight and a dream lookin’ boy.” I giggled to myself remembering the one time I was arrested by a “rent-a-cop.” It’s that experience, that makes me have a special type of hate in my heart for them to this day.

I went to the break room to get some food, and the spread was amazing. Fitting for a repast I suppose. The table was decorated with a colorful Hawaiian flower tablecloth. Food was beautiful, vibrant, and traditional. Poke’, pork, pipikaula.

As I internalized what happened, I saw a few designers huddled together and crying. I don’t do crowd crying.

Soon, we were all called into a conference room where the “cop” sat at the head of the table. “Okay everyone, no need for alarm.” “I am ruling Riley’s death a suicide.” There were a few posts on her social media talking about getting a new lease on life. But I will still be administering each of you a polygraph test as documentation. I’m thinking. “Is that all it takes? “A new lease on life” could’ve meant anything. But hey, if rent-a-cop says he knows what happened, then it must be true. Right? Maybe now the show can go on, as it should. The worse part of that whole ordeal was that we never found out who won the challenge. And after all I’ve done to get on this show. I deserve to know.

Deputy Dummy started calling us individually. But his “polygraph” machine was a mishmash monstrosity of machinery. Duct tape, legos, and rubber bands held it all together.

“Ha! I scoffed, a bootleg machine for a bootleg detective.”

He didn’t respond, only pretended not to hear me and then

he strapped me in and attached the leads. The machine looked like a disaster, but it was operational.

My heart raced, as I let the trauma of the situation affect my vitals. I inhaled deeply and tried to relax. My phone beeped. It was a notification from my bank account app. Just got a deposit. 25,000? But we only agreed to $5,000. I sat confused, thinking what could the other 20K be for.

“Your phone should be off!” said Deputy Douchebag. “Or at least silent!”

“Okayyyy!” I said. Pressing to power my phone off just as a new text came in.

DON’T THINK YOUR JOB IS DONE

I PAID YOU FOR 2 MORE JOBS.

I’ll SEND THE NAMES TOMORROW.

Oh! Hell no! I can’t keep doing this. I’ll get caught! I don’t have it in me. I thought about the deposit. “Or do I?” I know that I’m now 20,000 richer, and I really need the money.

I took out my Moleskine and began to sketch Riley’s last moments.