"Wait, the cameraman..." Debra said.

"Forget about him," Juan responded.

Debra was baffled. "Where did you get the money?"

Since the first day of filming the show, their phones had been handed in. The only phone Juan had now was issued by the production team, and it only had a few emergency contacts. "This car is owned by my family. We don't need to pay."

His explanation sent Debra into a deep spiral of thought. 'Since when did the Nichols family have anything to do with taxi service?'

Not long after, the taxi pulled up to the beach. The moment it arrived, the production team members stared, bewildered.

The director hurried forward, confused.

"Did we send a car for them?"

"Nope."

Debra and Juan stepped out, one after the other, onto the sand.

The director ruffled his hair. 'Why aren't these two following the rules of the show?'

the camera guy following

them. He

director rubbed his

them, "Ms. Frazier, Mr. Nichols, how did your first

Debra replied,

lie. They had at least spoken a

said coolly, which in his language meant, "She didn't

still distant from each other, the director

the thing. Our show

memories and sorting out old issues. That's our main draw. So

in the

cameraman gets here, we

next part of the filming. Just a heads-up. We would appreciate it if you avoided taking taxis. Instead, maybe use public transport, walk, or even ride

hopeful. "Does that sound

Debra quickly nodded. "Sure."

Juan replied, "Me too."

director clapped his hands, relieved that they weren't difficult to deal

out-of-breath cameraman finally arrived. When he saw the director, his face lit up

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