The journey starts with a first class night flight to Brasil, arriving in Fernando de Noronha. A car awaits to take them to their oceanfront bungalow at Pousada Maravihla. The first day will be spent settling in, enjoying the privacy of the suite, and relaxing by the pool just outside the bedroom. Five-star dishes prepared fresh, a menu left out for them to choose for their entire visit. As well, dinners timed perfectly with the sunset, overlooking the ocean.
The second day will be spent on the sea. There will be a boat excursion along the coastline to explore nearby beaches and caves, allowing time for swimming, snorkeling, and being out on the water before returning in the late afternoon. After some down time to refresh, night time entertainment will be decided then.
The third day will be spent on land exploring the island by buggy. This allows the freedom to stop at scenic viewpoints and different beaches along the way. The pace is at our disposal, offering the chance of a mix of light adventure and relaxation before heading back to the pousada for dinner at sunset.
The final day will end with breakfast overlooking the ocean before the transfer to the airport, returning back to dreary London.
"Yeah." Some air was definitely needed, this evening had exhausted her and, really, all she wanted to do was curl into her blankets and forget it ever happened. "Maybe a drink, too." Because, fuck, she needed one. Or the ten, too. But something told her she should at least have somewhat of a clear head when they leave.
"Why don’t we grab the drinks on our way out." He pulled out his phone, pressing his thumb to unlock it, already searching for her contact. "Here, do we want to share locations?" David wanting to ease some of her anxiety. He would lose his shit if something happened to her.
"Yeah." If it wasn't for the fact she had recently received texts from his ex situationship, Leyla would have wholeheartedly agreed. Even if she knew Lara was trying to get under her skin, she still managed to every damn time. "Of course he will, I'm not worried." In all honesty, she was just ready to leave. She made a mistake, and so she was going to have to live with it, but being in this space with everyone was putting her in a chokehold.
It's fine, she could just cry on the plane to Paris with Kosta by her side.
David didn't quite believe her. He could understand the fear with her date, but something else seemed off. "Do you want to get some air?" The least he could do, considering all of them were supposed to leave with their dates.
David at least wanted to make sure she was in better spirits.
LOCATION — The Barbican Centre.
DATE — Friday, February 13th, 2026.
STARTER — Closed for @david-pavoncello
He's just left Leyla out on the balcony, hoping his absence has gone unnoticed.
Although she had calmed, he can't shake the passive worry that there's more going on beneath the surface than she'd been willing to admit to him in a fleeting conversation.
He often gets that feeling with Leyla.
It's serendipitous, then, that another of her new 'buds' catches his eye as he strolls back inside. He'd seen him chatting to her on a number of occasions, even though right now he looks more likely to fall into his glass out of sheer boredom.
"Hey, Leaning Tower of Pisa." He can't be expected to remember the names of every one of Vincenzo's lackeys. "You're friends with Leyla Yil-... St. Pierre, I take it?"
A spot had been acquired, giving him a view of all those around him, focused on the ones that mattered. The event was exactly what he expected, keeping track of those bidding against him.
His head turned at a voice. A Rutherford. "David," he corrected. "I am. Something wrong?"
"well, that is kinda the point of the anonymity. we'd rather see each other with a bullet between the eyes and yet – will put it all aside for a lucky dip in romance... or maybe both, depending on who you win." she paused, taking stock of the room, "its no wonder half these fuckers don't have kids with like, three arms and six eyeballs honestly."
