Page 6 of Hawaii Can Suck It

I bite back a laugh at Gordon’s self-given nickname. The truth is, he’s not wrong. It’s influencer economics 101. YouTube views might pay for some fancy dinners, but the real money? That’s in products and sponsorship deals. Reece isn’t just a person; he’s an all-out brand. DareWear. DareFuel. DareProductions. It’s a giant empire with employees, offices, and overhead. And Gordon? That guy’s been running the show for five years, calling himself the “architect of Reece Dare.”

“Woo-hoo! Bro wifey’d up!” The shout echoes off the vaulted ceilings.

I look up to see the internet’s second favorite prankster zooming down the mirrored aisle like it’s his own personal Slip ‘N Slide.

THWUMP.

He crashes into Reece at the end, nearly taking them both out. “Bro! Hug tackle!” Blaze says, popping up as if nothing happened, “We gotta do that again for the fans—straight fire!”

And there it is—Reece’s smile appears like magic. The one that’s launched a gazillion thirst posts and convinced millions of subscribers that he’s sunshine incarnate instead of a daily black hole of joy.

Blake “Blaze” Tate is Reece’s best friend and perpetual partner-in-chaos. Girls love his bleach blonde hair, blue eyes, surfer bod, and sleeve of random tattoos(seriously, a fire-breathing gremlin riding a pizza?). I imagine he’s what would happen if you asked AI to design a dudebro. Sure, the man’s got muscles for days and a grin that causes pregnancy scares, but he’s no Reece Dare.

The thing about Blaze? Not the sharpest tool in the shed. But he’s harmless and perpetually excited about everything. More importantly, he is the only one who can get Mr. Grumpy Pants to laugh.

“Blaze, my man!” Gordon holds his hand up for a high-five.

“G-Thorne! Looking shiny, my dude!” He smacks his hand so hard that Gordon winces.

“Camera girl! Let’s shoot the intro like he said. Set it up.”

Blaze drags Reece back down the aisle, shouting, “Cam! Get low. For a sick crash angle!”

“That’s too risky—” Reece starts.

“Cam’s chill, right?” Blaze asks me.

And there I am, once again choosing between common sense and the shot. “Yup.” I drop into position. “Anything for the content.”

Reece’s scowl could frighten a demon back to hell.

“Action!” Gordon shouts.

They take off running. “It’s my wedding day!” Reece yells as they hit the shiny runway.

When Astrid proposed a center aisle made entirely of mirrors, I knew it was going to be a filming nightmare. But not gonna lie, this is a fucking epic shot. The boys running, their reflections filling the frame in an echoing blur.

I hold tight as they slide closer, closer, closer—

WHAM.

Suddenly I’m flat on my back with six feet of pure muscle crushing me into the floor. But my footage? Steady as a surgeon. I didn’t spend two years filming parkour stunts to fumble the shot.

Reece’s weight pins me to the ground, our eyes lock, and for a moment, we freeze. His heart hammers against mine, and I see the flecks of darker blue in his gaze. I can feel his breath on my lips—

“Cut!” Gordon breaks the spell. “Perfect! Now let’s get some product placement in there. I want DareFuel cans front and center on the altar. Make Jesus proud!”

I scramble up, refusing to acknowledge my buzzing skin. Through my viewfinder, I watch Reece transform into the charming goofball. It’s a magic trick worthy of Vegas—the way he can flip that switch and become the guy everyone thinks they know.

“Hey, DareSquad!” he says with a grin. “Smash thatLikebutton if you’re pumped to see me get married today!”

“That’s right, fam!” Blaze says, beaming. “DareDuo’s gettin’ married. I mean, we’re not, but my boy is. He’s gonna be Mr. Astrid.”

He looks at Reece, blinking like it just hit him.

“Bro… we still buds after you’re married? I can come over, right?”

“Always, bro.” Reece throws an arm around him. “This is only the start of our next epic adventure—”

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